A CRUSHING DEFEAT
The two young knights were both pleased to hear Sir Ralph's counsel,
for they themselves had several times talked the matter over together,
and agreed that there was little prospect of aught being done for many
months. They felt that they were but wasting their time remaining
before Oudenarde, where they were frequently offended by the
overbearing manner of the Ghentois, who, on the strength of their
defeat of the people of Bruges, considered themselves to be invincible.
They had, during the four months that they had been in Flanders,
learned enough of the language to make themselves easily understood.
They had paid visits to Brussels and other places of importance, and
were likely to learn nothing from the events of the siege, which, they
could already see, was not going to be attended with success.
It was their first absence from home, and in the lack of all adventure
and excitement, they would be glad to be back again. Therefore, after
remaining three days, which only confirmed Sir Ralph in his view, they
took leave of Van Artevelde, saying that they hoped to rejoin him as
soon as there was any prospect of active service, and, riding to Sluys,
took ship with their followers. At Sir Ralph's suggestion they retained
in their train the two Flemings, whom they had found stout and useful
fellows.
"Are you glad to go home again, Hal?" Sir Edgar said.
"Well, master, I should not be glad were there aught doing here, though
now that they have granted a pardon to all concerned in Wat the Tyler's
business, I can show my face without fear. But it has been a dull time.
Except just for a score of blows in that business with the Bruges
people there has been naught to do since we came over, except to groom
the horses and polish the armour. One might as well have been driving a
cart at St. Alwyth as moping about this camp."
"Perhaps there will be more stirring times when we come back again,
Hal. Burgundy is arming, and it is like enough that France may join
him, and in that case there will be fighting enough even to satisfy
you; but we may have a few months at home before that is likely to take
place."
The knights were landed at Gravesend, and their road lay together as
far as St. Alwyth. It was late in the afternoon, and Sir Ralph and
Albert rode straight home, telling Edgar that they should expect to see
him in the morning. Edgar found his father going on just as usual. He
received his son with pleasure, but without surprise, as Sir Ralph had
called before he left, and had said that if he found that naught was
doing at Oudenarde, he would recommend his own son and Edgar to return
home for a while.
"Well, sir knight," Mr. Ormskirk said, smiling, "I have not yet
congratulated you on your honour, but, believe me, I was right glad
when I heard the news. You have had but little fighting, I hear."
"None at all, father, for the affair near Bruges could scarcely be
called fighting. It was as naught to the fight we had down here before
we went away; save for that, I have not drawn sword. I have returned
home somewhat richer, for Van Artevelde gave Albert and myself rich
presents as our share of the spoil taken there."
"You have grown nigh two inches," Mr. Ormskirk said, as Edgar laid
aside his armour.
"I have done little else but eat and sleep, ride for an hour or two
every day, and practise arms other two hours with Albert, for indeed
there were few among the Flemings who knew aught of the matter save to
strike a downright blow. They are sturdy fellows and strong, and can
doubtless fight well side by side in a pitched battle, but they can
scarce be called men-at-arms, seeing that they but take down their
weapons when these are required, and hang them up again until there is
fresh occasion for their use. So that I have doubtless grown a bit,
having nothing else to do."
"And for how long are you home, Edgar?"
"That I know not, father. Sir Ralph will go up with us to London next
week. He says that it will be well we should present ourselves at
Court, but after that we shall do nothing until affairs change in
Flanders, or till a force goes from here to their aid."
Edgar rode over to the De Courcys' place the next morning, and received
a warm welcome.
Four days later they rode to town with Sir Ralph. The king received
them with much favour.
"Philip Van Artevelde sent me by Master Van Voorden a most favourable
report of you," he said, "and told me that he was mightily beholden to
you for his victory over the men of Bruges, for that had it not been
for your collecting supplies for his men, they would have been too
famished to have given battle, and that you led the charge into the
midst of their ranks. I was pleased to find that my knights had borne
themselves so well. And how goes on the siege of Oudenarde?"
"It can scarcely be called a siege, your Majesty," Edgar said; "there
are a few skirmishes, but beyond that naught is done. If your Majesty
would but send them out a good knight with skill in such matters they
might take Oudenarde in ten days. As it is, 'tis like to extend to the
length of the siege of Troy, unless the Burgundians come to its relief."
"I could send them a good knight, for I have plenty of them, but would
they obey him?"
"Methinks not, sire," Edgar replied, frankly. "Just at present they are
so content with themselves that they would assuredly accept no foreign
leader, and have indeed but small respect for their own."
The king laughed. "What thought you of them, Sir Ralph?"
"'Tis what might be looked for, your Majesty. It is an army of
bourgeois and craftsmen, stout fellows who could doubtless defend their
walls against an attack, or might fight stoutly shoulder to shoulder,
but they have an over-weening conceit in themselves, and deem that all
that is necessary in war is to carry a pike or a pole-axe and use it
stoutly. A party of children would do as well, or better, were they set
to besiege a town. Leadership there is none. Parties go out to skirmish
with the garrison; a few lives are lost, and then they return, well
content with themselves. 'Tis a mockery of war!"
The king asked them many questions about the state of things in
Flanders, to which they replied frankly that Flanders was united at
present, and that they thought that--with five thousand English archers
and as many men-at-arms under a commander of such station as would give
him authority not only over his own troops but over the Flemings--they
might be able to resist the attacks of Burgundy, or even of Burgundy
allied with France; but that by themselves, without military leaders,
they feared that matters would go ill with the Flemings.
The king bade the two friends come to the Court that evening; and when
they did so he presented them to the young queen, speaking of them in
very high terms.
"They were," he said, "the only men who did their duty on that day when
the rioters invaded the Tower during our absence, killing with their
own hands seven men who invaded the apartment of Lady De Courcy, and
carrying her and her daughter safely through the crowd. Had all done
their duty but a tenth part as well, the disgrace this rabble brought
upon us would never have occurred, and the lives of my trusty
councillors would have been saved."
"The king has already told me of your exploit here, and of other deeds
as notable done by you; and Mynheer Van Voorden also spoke to me of the
service you rendered him," the queen said, graciously, "but I had
scarcely looked to see the heroes of these stories such young knights."
She spoke to them for some time, while the king's favourites looked on,
somewhat ill-pleased at such graciousness being shown to the
new-comers. The haughty De Vere, who had just been created Duke of
Dublin, and who was about to start to undertake the governorship of
Ireland, spoke in a sneering tone to a young noble standing next to
him. Sir Ralph happened to overhear him, and touched him on the
shoulder.
"My lord duke," he said, "methinks you need not grudge the honour that
has fallen to those two young knights; you yourself have achieved far
greater honour, and that without, so far as I know, ever having drawn
your sword. But it were best that, if you have aught to say against
them, you should say it in their hearing, when, I warrant me, either of
them would gladly give you an opportunity of proving your valour. Your
skill, indeed, would be needed, since I would wager either of them to
spit you like a fly within five minutes; or should you consider them
too young for so great a noble to cross swords with, I myself would
gladly take up their quarrel."
The favourite flushed hotly, and for a moment hesitated. "I have no
quarrel with them, Sir Ralph De Courcy," he said, after a short
hesitation. "My words were addressed to a friend here."
"You spoke loud enough for me to hear, my lord duke, and should know
that such words so spoken are an insult."
"They were not meant as such, Sir Ralph."
"Then, sir, I will give you my advice to hold your tongue more under
government. Those young knights have earned royal favour not by soft
words or mincing ways, but by their swords; and it were best in future
that any remarks you may wish to make concerning them, should be either
in strict privacy or openly and in their hearing."
So saying, he turned his back on the disconcerted young courtier, who
shortly afterwards left the royal presence overcome by chagrin and
confusion, for the knight's words had been heard by several standing
round, and more than one malicious smile had been exchanged among his
rivals for Court favour.
De Vere had a fair share of bravery, but the reports of the singular
feats of swordsmanship by the young knights convinced him that he would
have but small chance with either of them in a duel. Even if he came
well out of it there would be but small credit indeed to him in
overcoming a young knight who had not yet reached manhood, while, if
worsted, it would be a fatal blow to his reputation. That evening he
had a private interview with the king, and requested leave to start the
next day to take up his new governorship. Sir Ralph related the
incident to the lads as they returned to the hostelry where they had
taken up their lodging.
"It was a heavy blow for his pride," he said. "I think not that he is a
coward. The De Veres come of a good stock, but he saw that such a duel
would do him great harm. The king himself, if he learned its cause, as
he must have done, would have been greatly displeased, and the queen
equally so, and there would have been no credit to him had he wounded
you; while if he had been wounded, it would have been deemed a disgrace
that he, the Duke of Dublin and Governor of Ireland, should have been
worsted by so young a knight; therefore, I blame him not for refusing
to accept the challenge I offered him, and it will make him soberer and
more careful of his speech in future. It was a lesson he needly
greatly, for I have often heard him among his companions using insolent
remarks concerning men who were in every respect his superiors, save
that they stood not so high in the favour of the king."
They remained a week in London, attending the Court regularly and
improving their acquaintance with many whom they had met there in the
troubled times. There was scarce a day that they did not spend some
time at the house of Sir Robert Gaiton, Albert especially being always
ready with some pretext for a visit there. Van Voorden had left London,
sailing thence on the very day before they had arrived at Gravesend.
The summer passed quietly. Oudenarde still held out, and indeed no
serious attack had been made upon it. Van Artevelde had sent a
messenger to the King of France, begging him to mediate between the
Flemings and the Duke of Burgundy, but the king had thrown the
messenger into prison without returning answer, and in the autumn had
summoned his levies to aid the duke in the invasion of Flanders. Seeing
that fighting in earnest was likely to commence shortly, the knights
took ship with their followers early in October, and after a fair
voyage landed at Sluys and rode to Oudenarde. A formal alliance had by
this time been made between the two countries, but no steps had been
taken towards gathering an army in England. The two knights were,
however, very cordially received by Van Artevelde.
"You have arrived just in time to ride with me to-morrow," he said. "I
am going to see that all has been done to prevent the French from
crossing the river. All the bridges have been broken save those at
Comines and Warneton, and Peter De Bois is appointed to hold the one,
and Peter De Winter the other."
The following morning some twenty horsemen started with Van Artevelde
and rode to Ghent, and thence followed the bank of the Lys. Most of the
bridges had been completely destroyed, and those at Comines and
Warneton had both been so broken up that a handful of men at either
could keep it against an army.
"We may feel safe, I think, sir knights," Van Artevelde said to his
friends when they brought their tour of inspection to an end on the
second day after starting.
"Assuredly we are safe against the French crossing by the bridges,"
Edgar said, "but should they find boats they may cross where they
please."
"I have ordered every boat to be brought over to this side of the
river, Sir Edgar, and a number of men have, by my orders, been engaged
in doing so."
"Doubtless, sir. I have kept a look-out the whole distance and have not
seen one boat on the other side of the stream; but there are numerous
channels and canals by which the country folk bring down their produce;
and however sharp the search may be, some boats may have escaped
notice. Even a sunken one, that might seem wholly useless, could be
raised and roughly repaired, and in a few trips could bring a number of
men across under shadow of night. So far as I have read, it is rarely
that an army has failed to find means of some kind for crossing a
river."
But Philip Van Artevelde was not now, as he had been a year before,
ready to take hints from others, and he simply replied, carelessly, "I
have no doubt that my orders have been strictly carried out, sir
knight," and rode forward again.
"I don't think things will go well with us, Albert," Edgar said. "With
a general who knows nothing whatever of warfare, an army without
officers, and tradesmen against men-at-arms, the look-out is not good.
Van Artevelde ought to have had horsemen scattered over on the other
side of the river, who would have brought us exact news as to the point
against which the main body of the French is marching. They ought to
have a man posted every two hundred yards along the river bank for
fifteen miles above and below that point, then I should have four
bodies of five thousand men each posted at equal distances three miles
behind the river, so that one of these could march with all haste to
the spot where they learned that the French were attempting to cross,
and could arrive there long before enough of the enemy had made a
passage, to withstand their onslaught.
"I will wager that the Lys will not arrest the passage of the French
for twenty-four hours. Were Peter De Bois a reasonable man, I would ask
leave of Van Artevelde to ride and take up our post with him, but he is
an arrogant and ignorant fellow with whom I should quarrel before I had
been in his camp an hour."
Two days passed quietly at Oudenarde, then the news came that the enemy
had passed the Lys at Comines. Seeing that the bridge could not be
crossed, the French army had halted. Some of the knights went down to
the river, and after a search discovered some boats, in which they
passed over with four hundred men-at-arms before nightfall, unperceived
by the Flemings. They then marched towards Comines, hoping that the
Flemings would leave their strong position near the head of the bridge
to give battle, in which case they doubted not that the constable would
find means so far to repair the bridge that the passage could begin.
Peter De Bois, however, was not to be tempted to leave his position,
and the French had to remain all night on the marshy ground without
food for themselves or their horses. In the morning, however, the
Fleming, fearing that others might cross and reinforce the party,
marched out against them. The knights and men-at-arms met them so
stoutly that in a very short time the Flemings took to flight. The
French at once set to work to repair the bridge, and by nightfall a
great portion of the army had crossed. The weather was very wet and
stormy, and the French army had suffered much.
There were besides Edgar and Albert some other English knights in the
camp, and these gathered together as soon as the news came, and talked
over what in their opinion had best be done.
"I think," said Sir James Pinder, a knight who had seen much service on
many stricken fields, "it would be best to remain where we are, and to
throw up fortifications behind which we can fight to better advantage,
while the French cavalry would be able to do but little against us. The
French troops must be worn out with marching, and with the terrible
weather; they will find it difficult to procure food, and might even
abstain altogether from coming against us, while, from what I see of
this rabble, they may fight bravely, but they will never be able to
withstand the shock of the French knights and men-at-arms. 'Tis like
the French will be three or four days before they come hither, and by
that time, with fifty thousand men to work at them, we should have
works so strong and high that we could fearlessly meet them. Moreover,
the threescore English archers who still remain would be able to gall
them as they pressed forward, whereas in a pitched battle they would
not be numerous enough to avail anything."
The other six knights all agreed with Sir James, who then said, "I hear
that Van Artevelde has summoned his leaders to consult them as to the
best course. I will go across and tell them what in our opinion had
better be done."
He returned in half an hour. "'Tis hopeless," he said, shrugging his
shoulders. "These Flemings are as obstinate as they are ignorant; not
one of those present agreed with my proposal. Many, indeed, broke into
rude laughter, and so I left them."
After crossing the Lys the French came to Ypres, and on the same day
the Flemings broke up their camp before Oudenarde and marched, fifty
thousand strong, to Courtray. On the following day they moved forward
to ground which Van Artevelde and his counsellors deemed good for
fighting. Behind them was a hill, a dyke was on one wing, and a grove
of wood was on the other. The French were camped at Rosbecque, some
four miles away. That evening Van Artevelde invited all the principal
men and officers to sup with him, and gave them instructions for the
morrow. He said that he was not sorry that no large force of Englishmen
had come to their aid, for had they done so they would assuredly have
had the credit of the victory. He also gave orders that no prisoners
should be taken save the king himself, whom they would bring to Ghent
and instruct in the Flemish language.
A false alarm roused the camp at midnight, and although it proved to be
ill-founded, the Flemings were so uneasy at the thought that they might
be attacked unawares, that great fires were lighted and meat cooked and
wine drunk until an hour before daylight, when they arranged themselves
in order of battle and also occupied a heath beyond the wood. A large
dyke ran across in front of them, and behind them the ground was
covered by small bushes. Philip Van Artevelde was in the centre with
9,000 picked men of Ghent, whom he always kept near his person, as he
had but little faith in the goodwill of those from other towns.
Beyond these were the contingents of Alost and Grammont, of Courtray
and Bruges, Damme and Sluys. All were armed with maces, steel caps,
breast-pieces, and gauntlets of steel. Each carried a staff tipped with
iron; each company and craft had its own livery, and colours and
standards with the arms of their town. The morning was misty, and no
sign could be seen of the French. After a time the Flemings became
impatient, and determined to sally out to meet the enemy.
"It is just madness," Sir James said to the English knights, who, with
their followers, had gathered round him. "I had great hopes that, with
the dyke in their front to check the onrush of the French, they might
withstand all attacks and come out victors; now they are throwing away
their advantage, and going like sheep to the shearers. By my faith,
friends, 'tis well that our horses have rested of late, for we shall
need all their speed if we are to make our escape from this business."
As they moved forward in the mist they caught sight of some French
knights, who moved backwards and forwards along their front and then
rode away, doubtless to inform their countrymen that the Flemings were
advancing against them. In the French army were all the best knights
and leaders of France, and as soon as they heard that the Flemings were
advancing they divided into three bodies, the one carrying the royal
banner, which was to attack the Flemings in front; the two others were
to move on either side and fall upon their flanks. This arranged, they
moved forward with full confidence of victory.
The central division fell first upon the Flemings, but it was received
so roughly that it recoiled a little, and several good knights fell. In
a few minutes, however, the other two divisions attacked the Flemings'
flanks. The English knights, who were stationed on the right, seeing
what was coming, had in vain tried to get the companies on this side to
face round so as to oppose a front to the attack. The consequence was
that the weight of the attack fell entirely upon the extreme end of the
line, doubling it up and driving it in upon the centre, while the same
took place on the right. Thus in a very few minutes the Flemings were
driven into a helpless mass, inclosed on three sides, and so pressed
in, that those in front could scarce use their arms, many falling
stifled without having struck a blow.
The centre fought well, but their rough armour could not resist the
better tempered swords of the French knights, which cleft through the
iron caps as if they had been but leather, while the steel points of
the lances pierced breast-and back-piece. But chiefly the knights
fought with axes and heavy maces, beating the Flemings to the ground,
while their own armour protected them effectually from any blows in
return. The noise was tremendous. The shouts of the leaders were
unheard in the din of the blows of sword and mace on helm and steel
cap. Specially fierce was the French assault against the point where
Van Artevelde's banner flew. He himself had dismounted, and was
fighting in the front rank, and in the terrible _mêlée_ was, erelong,
struck down and trampled to death; and indeed to every man that fell by
the French weapons many were suffocated by the press, and on the French
side many valiant knights, after fighting their way into the thick of
the battle, met with a similar fate.
When the French division bore down on the right flank the seven English
knights with their men-at-arms had fallen back. Single-handed it would
have been madness had they attempted to charge against the solid line
of the French.
"Keep well back!" Sir James Pinder cried, "If we get mixed up with the
foot-men we shall be powerless. Let us bide our time, and deliver a
stroke where we see an opportunity."
They continued, therefore, to rein back, as the Flemings were doubled
up, powerless to give any aid, or to press forward towards the front
line.
"Didst ever see so fearful a sight?" Sir James said. "Sure never before
was so dense a mass. 'Tis like a sea raging round the edge of a black
rock, and eating it away piecemeal. Were there but five thousand
Flemings, they might do better; for now their very numbers prevent them
from using their arms. Ah, here is a party with whom we may deal," and
he pointed to a small body of French knights who were about to fall on
the rear of the Flemings. "Now, gentlemen, _St. George, St. George!_"
Putting spurs to their horses, the seven knights and their followers
dashed at the French. The latter were also mounted, unlike the majority
of their companions, who before attacking had dismounted, and handed
their horses to their pages. The party were fully double the strength
of the English, but the impetus of the charge broke their line, and in
a moment a fierce _mêlée_ began. Edgar and Albert fought side by side.
The former, as no missiles were flying, had thrown up his vizor, the
better to be able to see what was passing round him. He was fighting
with a battle-axe, for a sword was a comparatively poor weapon against
knightly armour. His three first opponents fell headlong, their helmets
crushed in under the tremendous blows he dealt them. Then warding off a
blow dealt at him, he turned swiftly and drove his horse at a French
knight who was on the point of striking at Albert with a mace while the
latter was engaged with another opponent.
The sudden shock rolled rider and horse over. He heard Hal Carter
shout, "Look out, Sir Edgar!" and forcing his horse to leap aside, he
struck off the head of a lance that would have caught him in the
gorget, and an instant later swept a French knight from his saddle. He
looked round. Three of his companions were already down, and although
many more of the French had fallen, the position was well-nigh
desperate.
"We must cut our way through," he shouted, "or we shall be lost. Let
all keep close together--forward!" and he and Albert, spurring their
horses, fell furiously upon the French opposed to them.
Their splendid armour now proved invaluable; sword blows fell harmless
on it, and lances glanced from its polished face. As he put spurs to
his horse Edgar had dropped his vizor down again, for he wanted to
strike now, and not to have to defend himself. With crushing blows he
hewed his way through his opponents. The other two English knights kept
close, and the men-at-arms fought as stoutly as their masters, until
the party emerged from among their assailants. As they did so the
knight next to Edgar reeled in his saddle. Edgar threw his arm round
him, and supported him until they had ridden a short distance. Then, as
they halted, he sprung from his horse and lowered him to the ground.
"Thanks," the knight murmured, as he opened his vizor. "But I am hurt
to death. Leave me here to die quietly, and look to yourselves. All is
lost."
Edgar saw that indeed his case was hopeless. A lance had pierced his
body, and had broken short off; a minute later he had breathed his
last. Edgar sprung upon his horse again, and looked round. Of the whole
of their retainers but four remained, and all of these were wounded.
"Art hurt, Albert?" he asked.
"Naught to speak of, but I am sorely bruised, and my head rings with
the blows I have had on my helmet."
"And you, Sir Eustace? I fear that you have fared less well."
"Wounded sorely," the English knight said. "But I can sit my horse, and
methinks that it were best to ride off at once, seeing the Flemings are
flying. We can assuredly do no good by remaining."
Edgar agreed. "Methinks that we had best ride for Sluys, and get there
before the news of the defeat."
As they rode off they looked back. Behind them were a host of flying
men, and many of them were throwing away their steel caps and armour to
run the more quickly. The battle had lasted only half an hour, but by
that time nine thousand Flemings had fallen, of whom more than half had
been suffocated by the press. The flight, however, was far more fatal
than the battle, for the French, as soon as the fight was won, mounted
their horses, and chased the Flemings so hotly that twenty-five
thousand were killed. The body of Van Artevelde was found after the
battle. It was without a wound, but was so trampled on as to be almost
unrecognizable. His body was taken and hung on a tree.
As they galloped off Edgar reined back to Hal Carter, who was one of
the survivors.
"I see that you are badly hurt, Hal. As soon as we get fairly away we
will halt, and I will bandage your wounds."
"They are of no great account, Sir Edgar. It was worth coming over from
England to take part in such a fray; the worst part of it was that it
did not last long enough."
"It lasted too long for many of us, Hal. You saved my life by that
warning shout you gave, for, most assuredly, I must have been borne
from my saddle had the blow struck me, unawares."
"It was a cowardly trick to charge a man when he was otherwise
engaged," Hal said. "But you paid him well for it, master; you fairly
crushed his helmet in."
Three miles on they halted in a wood to give the horses breathing time,
when those unhurt bandaged the wounds of the others. It was found that
Sir Eustace was so severely wounded that he could not go much farther,
and that two of the men-at-arms were in as bad a case; the third was a
Fleming.
"It were best to leave us here," Sir Eustace said. "We cannot ride much
farther."
"That we will not do," Edgar said. "Torhut is but four miles away. We
can ride at an easy pace, for the Flemings will make for Courtray and
Ghent, and the French will pursue in that direction. 'Tis not likely
that any will ride so far south as this."
"I have friends in Torhut," the Fleming said. "I come from that
neighbourhood, and I can bestow Sir Eustace, my master, in a place of
safety, and will look after him and these two who can go no farther."
"That will be well, indeed. Is it in the town itself?" Edgar asked.
"I have friends there, but an uncle of mine resides in a farm-house
three quarters of a mile from the town. We can get help and shelter
there."
"That would be safer, good fellow," Sir Eustace said. "I should not
care to enter a town now, for some who saw us come in might be willing
to gain favour with the French by saying where we were hidden.
Moreover, we should be detained and questioned as to the battle. I have
money wherewith to pay your uncle well for the pains to which he will
be put. Well, let us forward; the sooner we are in shelter the better."
They rode slowly now until they saw the steeple of Torhut, and then
turned off the road, and in half an hour came to a farm-house. The
Fleming had ridden on a short distance ahead.
"My uncle will take them in," he said. "He has a loft in the top of his
house, and can bestow them there safely, for none would be likely to
suspect its existence, even if they searched the house. My uncle is a
true Fleming, and would have taken them in without payment, but I say
not that he will refuse what my master may be willing to pay."
Ten minutes later, Edgar and Albert continued their way, followed now
by Hal Carter alone. The latter had washed the blood from his face and
armour, and had thrown a short cloak over his shoulders, so that they
could pass without its being suspected that they had taken part in a
desperate fray. After riding for some hours they stopped at a wayside
inn, and, avoiding Bruges, rode the next day into Sluys, where they
found a vessel sailing that evening for England. No rumour of the
disastrous battle of Rosebeque had, as yet, reached Sluys; but the two
young knights, calling upon the merchant who had entertained them at
their first landing, informed him of what had happened.
"'Tis well that it is so," he said, "for, in truth, the domination of
the craftsmen of Ghent and the other great cities would have been far
harder to bear than that of the earl, or of France, or of Burgundy.
Already the taxes and imposts are four times as heavy as those laid
upon us by the earl, and had they gained a victory these people would
soon have come to exercise a tyranny altogether beyond bearing. 'Tis
ever thus when the lower class gain dominion over the upper."