into the Senate House, where his four sons, Erick, John, Magnus, and
Charles, and all the orders in the kingdom were assembled. He then caused
his will to be read, and made his children swear to obey it. Erick was
declared successor to the throne; John, possessor of Finland; Magnus of
Eastern Gothnia; and Charles of Sudermania. In a few earnest words he urged
his people to obey his successor and to preserve the greatest unity among
themselves; since on that would depend their strength and their freedom: he
said also, that if he had ever done any good, thanks for it were to be
ascribed to God alone, and implored pardon for all the faults he had
committed.
Very soon after this he died, leaving a name which is still cherished in
the heart of every Swede; for he was called not only the king, but the
father and the instructor of his people. It must not be thought that his
long reign was free from care, since he had constantly to preserve himself
from the attempts that were made by the friends of Christiern to take his
power from him.
When he came to the throne he found the country laid waste by the ravages
of war, and its people almost without hope. He left Sweden free and happy,
an army ready to march at a moment's notice, and a treasury full of money;
indeed, it is said, that after his death a great vaulted chamber was found
so full of silver that the door of it could scarcely be opened.
Gustavus never forgot that he owed his success to the brave Dalecarlians;
and his watch word, when about to engage on any expedition attended with
danger, was always, "God and the Swedish peasants!"
BERTRAND DU GUESCLIN,
THE HERO OF CHIVALRY.
About the year 1320 Bertrand du Guesclin was born in the castle of La Motte
Bron, which stood in a picturesque part of Bretagne, about six leagues from
the city of Rennes. His father, Reynauld du Guesclin, was a brave and loyal
knight, who served God truly, and was very kind to the poor, giving them a
great part of his substance, although he was not at all rich himself.
Bertrand was the eldest of ten children. Unhappily his excessive ugliness
made him an object of dislike to his mother, and she was not nearly so kind
to him as she was to her other children. Besides this, he was self-willed
and savage, and his temper would break out into fits of violence which
terrified his little brothers and sisters, and exposed him to the contempt
of the whole household. This rough and repelling exterior, however, only
hid for a time a generous nature and a feeling heart, and many were the
tears poor Bertrand shed in solitude, for he was too proud to let them be
seen, when he rebelled against the harsh treatment he received on account
of his ill-behaviour.
One day the lady of La Motte was seated at table in the dining-hall of the
castle with her younger sons, Guillaume and Olivier, whilst Bertrand was
eating his dinner in a corner apart. It was very sad to know that the
eldest son of the family behaved so rudely that his parents would not allow
him to take his place at the table. But this day it happened that some
chance word of ridicule reached him in his corner, and he arose in fury,
and, rushing towards the table, commanded his brothers to make room for him
at the upper end, where his place as the eldest child should have been by
right. His brothers, surprised at the tone of his voice, obeyed, and his
mother suffered him to sit in the highest place; but he had not been there
long before his awkward and uncouth manners obliged her to order him to
return to his corner. Bertrand arose, and in his rage clenched his hand,
and hit the oaken table so hard a blow that it overturned, and emptied the
contents of the dishes into the laps of the persons seated around it. This
passionate act of course called down a fresh torrent of reproaches on his
head. In the midst of all the disorder a lady, who was a frequent visitor
at the castle, entered the hall. She asked Bertrand's mother why she was so
angry. The lady of La Motte answered her by pointing to her little son, who
was now sobbing bitterly in his corner. The lady went up to him, and
although he was sullen at first, she soon persuaded him to tell her his
sorrows. She invited him to return to the table, and Bertrand, to the
astonishment of all who were present, took the dish of peacock which the
steward was just bringing into the hall, and a goblet of wine, and served
her with them himself, awkwardly it must be confessed, but in a spirit of
gratitude for the few kind words she had spoken.
The lady who had thus befriended him was the daughter of a Jewish
physician, but with her father had been converted to Christianity. She was
reputed to be very clever, and was skilled in an art which was much
practised in those days, namely, that of foretelling future events by
observing the lines in people's hands, very much in the same manner as
gipsies pretend to tell fortunes, even in our own time. After dinner she
called Bertrand to her, and attentively examined his face and his hand, and
presently told his mother that she ought to be proud of having such a son,
instead of despising him, because she was convinced that when he grew up to
be a man he would do great things for the glory of his country. From this
day his mother looked more kindly upon him; she had him dressed for the
first time in a manner suitable to his rank, and commanded the servants to
treat him with the respect due to the eldest son of their master.
Bertrand's fiery temper, however, and his love of fighting, were a
continual source of trouble and anxiety to his parents. Before he was nine
years of age he would often leave the castle without their knowledge, and
collect all the children he met with on his way, and then fight them one by
one, or try his strength against a number of them together. When he
returned home, bleeding, and with torn and soiled garments, his mother
would justly reprove him for behaving so little like a gentleman.
At last his fighting propensities increased to such a pitch that the
country people complained of him to his father, and the Sire de la Motte
was obliged to order a forfeit to be paid by the parents of all children
who were found in his company. Nevertheless Bertrand still contrived to get
out of the castle secretly, and to lead the little villagers to their mimic
battles. His father, as a last resource, shut him up in the dungeon of the
castle, and in this dreary place he remained four months. But one evening a
maid-servant, whose office it was to bring him his food twice a day, left
the door open behind her, and Bertrand managed to slip out, not forgetting
in his haste to turn the key upon her, in case she should betray him to his
parents. Then he ran as fast as ever he could to a field, unfastened a mare
from one of his father's ploughs, mounted it, laughing heartily the while
at the ploughman, who was rushing after him, and galloped as far as Rennes,
without saddle or bridle, to the house of his aunt, a sister of the Sire de
la Motte, who was married to a knight of great honour.
His aunt had often heard of his misconduct at home, and was not at all
pleased to see him arrive in such plight. She began scolding him in harsh
words, when luckily for him his uncle intervened in his favour, reminding
his wife that Bertrand was only a child, and had done nothing yet to
forfeit his honour. "He is brave and spirited," said the good knight; "let
us keep him in our house, and see if we cannot transform him into a great
captain for the glory of Bretagne."
Bertrand remained with his uncle at Rennes until he was sixteen, and
learned from him all the accomplishments necessary for a knight. Moreover,
he learned to be gentle and courteous to those around him, and in these
happier circumstances the good points of his character shone forth, and
his violent temper was curbed, whilst his spirit remained free. It is
related of him that he was so generous, that when he met with any poor
persons, and had no money with him, he would give them some of the very
clothes he wore, and if he had only a penny would share it with those who
were in need. He found his greatest delight in listening to his uncle's
stories of battles and sieges, and when some noble exploit was related,
would clap his hands for joy, whilst his eyes shone like fire.
A very great fault, however, still remained to him, and that was his love
of fighting. One Sunday it was announced in the city of Rennes that a prize
would be given to the youth who should acquit himself best in single
combat. Bertrand burned with impatience to enter the lists, and his aunt,
fearing the temptation might prove too strong for him, carried him off with
her to church, thinking he would certainly be safe there under her vigilant
eye. As soon as Bertrand saw that her attention was fully absorbed in
listening to the sermon, he took the opportunity of slipping out of church,
and ran at full speed to the market-place. Here he was recognised by some
of his opponents of former years, but he made them promise not to betray
him to his aunt, and was just going to enter the lists, when a young
Breton, who had thrown twelve of his competitors to the ground, advanced
proudly to claim the prize, which was a hat with feather and silver band.
Bertrand defied him to the combat, and after a long struggle succeeded in
overthrowing him; but during the time he had happened to fall on his
opponent, and in so doing had cut his knee severely with a stone. This
accident caused him so much pain that he could hardly stand, and he begged
his comrades to take him to a surgeon's, where his wound could be dressed.
The prize was brought to him there, but he dared not accept it, for fear
his aunt, of whom he always seems to have had a wholesome dread, should
hear of what he had done. She had indeed missed him, and had sought for him
everywhere, and she did not spare her reproaches when she discovered the
state he was in. Nevertheless she showed him greater kindness than he
deserved, and nursed him until he had recovered from his wound.
The knight at last persuaded his father to recall him to the castle of La
Motte Bron. Now Bertrand tasted the real joy of home for the first time,
for his father was so delighted at the improvement in his character that he
no longer withheld his love from him, and every member of the household had
a kind word for him; while in former times, when he was so very naughty and
unruly, there had only been complaints and reproofs.
The Sire Du Guesclin took care that the martial studies of his son should
be completed, and gave him a little horse, on which Bertrand rode about to
visit the great lords in the neighbourhood, and was present at the jousts
and tournaments which were so often held at that time. Du Guesclin's
poverty and youth prevented him, however, from entering the lists, and
making known his courage and martial skill to the world. He grieved, too,
because he was so ugly, and so humbly equipped, his famed steed being
"little better than a miller's horse."
The time came at last when he was enabled to distinguish himself. A great
tournament was announced at Rennes on the marriage of Jeanne de Penthievre,
heiress to the duchy of Bretagne, with Charles de Blois, who was nephew to
the King of France. The Sire de la Motte Bron judged it to be a fit
occasion for the display of his dignity, and went with the nobles of
Bretagne to Rennes, followed by a great number of his vassals; whilst poor
Bertrand, mounted on his insignificant horse, and easily recognised by the
roundness and largeness of his head, his short nose, his strongly-marked
eyebrows, and his square-set figure, was an object of ridicule to the
peasants as they flocked along the road to Rennes. The tournament used to
be held in an open space inside the city, and the ladies, richly attired,
looked on from the windows and balconies around.
Bertrand's eyes flashed when he reached the arena where the knights were
already engaged, and heard the sound of the trumpets and the clashing of
the weapons. "I shall never please the ladies," he said, as he had said
many a time before, "but I will make my name to be feared by the enemies of
my country."
Seeing one of his relations retire from the combat, he followed him to his
house, and, throwing himself on his knees before him, implored him to lend
him some armour and a horse. His cousin good-naturedly lent him a fresh
horse, and armed him himself, and Bertrand rushed back to the tournament,
and, having entered the lists without naming himself, challenged a knight,
and quickly overthrew him. Another knight now came forward to avenge the
vanquished one, and Bertrand was just going to attack him, when he saw his
father's arms upon his shield, and bowing low, withdrew, to the
astonishment of the spectators. After this he challenged no fewer than
fifteen knights without coming to grief himself. All the people present
were now very anxious to know his name, and one of the ladies who sat in
the great balcony entreated a Norman knight to descend into the arena, and,
if possible, remove the visor from the victor's face. The knight went down,
and had just succeeded in removing the helmet from Bertrand's head, when a
strong arm suddenly lifted him off his horse and laid him in the dust. Then
Reynauld du Guesclin recognised his son, and hastened to embrace him in his
pride and joy, and Bertrand was proclaimed victor over all to the sound of
the trumpets, and received the prize, which was a beautiful silver swan,
life size. The prize, however, he did not keep for himself, but gave it to
his cousin, whose kindness had enabled him to win so great renown.
When Bertrand was twenty years of age he was no longer contented with
displaying his prowess in tournaments, but began to fight in good earnest,
taking the part of Charles de Blois in a quarrel that lasted for a very
long time between that prince and his rival, Jean de Montfort.
Jean de Bretagne, known by the name of the Good Duke, had died without
leaving any childhood, and was succeeded by his brother, Guy, Count of
Penthievre, whose daughter's marriage with Charles de Blois had occasioned
the festivity at Rennes. Charles thus claimed the duchy in right of his
wife; but Guy was no sooner dead than his half-brother, Jean de Montfort,
came forward, and maintained that his title to Bretagne was a better one
than that of his niece.
This was not true, because the right of female succession had been fully
established in the duchy, and the King of France and many of the Breton
nobles sided with Charles, while the King of England sent assistance to De
Montfort.
The wives of both princes were women of extraordinary spirit. Jeanne,
Countess de Montfort, defended her husband's rights whilst he lived, and
after his death those of his son, who was likewise named Jean; and once
during the war, when she was shut up in the town of Hennebon, she held out,
like a brave and skilful general, against all the attacks of the enemy
until Sir Walter Manny arrived with succour from King Edward the Third of
England. Jeanne de Penthievre was a woman of equal courage, but her pride
and ambition caused her husband to risk the battle which cost him his life,
and proved, as will be seen hereafter, the ruin of her own cause.
Du Guesclin chose the side of Charles de Blois because he believed it to be
the right one. "Never," said he, "while I live, will I maintain an
unrighteous cause." He was soon at the head of sixty men, in readiness to
serve, and sold his mother's jewels that he might be able to buy horses,
harness, and arms. His chroniclers tell us, however, how he very soon
captured from an English knight, whom he met in a forest, a treasure
consisting of jewels, which he gave to his mother in compensation for those
she had lost. Although gunpowder was known in those days, it was very
little used; the chief weapons were swords, lances, battle-axes,
cross-bows, and clubs; and every warrior defended himself with the shield.
Bertrand's name came to be feared by his enemies, as he had predicted in
the days gone by: his first attempts in warfare were chiefly against the
English, who held many of the fortresses in Bretagne for Jean de Montfort.
A story is told of the manner in which he gained possession of one of
these, the Castle of Fougeray, which was a very important place.
Bertrand knew all the ins and outs of the castle, because in the chances of
war he had once been a prisoner for a short time within its walls, and he
disguised himself, and about twenty of his companions in arms, as
wood-cutters, in white gowns reaching down to the knee, and with bundles of
faggots on their shoulders, as he had often seen the poor peasants bringing
wood to the castle. He divided his men, to make it appear that they were
coming from different parts of the country to sell their wood, and waited
for the time when the governor should have gone out of his stronghold with
a part of the garrison. When all was ready they passed the night securely
in the forest, and came out of it in the grey dawn of the morning with
their bundles on their shoulders.
The watchman of Fougeray saw them dimly in the distance, and rang the bell,
to give the alarm, but all fear vanished when it was seen that only
wood-cutters were coming towards the castle. Bertrand advanced to the
drawbridge, and asked the porter if he did not want wood. The porter said
that he did, and not suspecting any harm, let down the drawbridge at once.
Du Guesclin laid down his heavy load of wood so as to prevent the bridge
from being drawn up, and rushed on to the castle, shouting "Guesclin," the
war cry which afterwards became so terrible to his enemies. His comrades
followed quickly at his summons; the unhappy porter fell wounded in the
struggle, and as there were a hundred men in the place and Bertrand had
only sixty when all had come to his aid, the conflict was very sharp; women
and children even throwing showers of stones on the heads of the Bretons.
Du Guesclin himself was severely wounded, and was found defending himself
to the last, without his hatchet, when a party of cavalry belonging to
Charles de Blois came up in time to secure possession of the castle. The
whole affair may have been considered an ingenious trick, but I think it
would have been more noble for Bertrand to have ridden up openly to his
enemies, clad in his armour, and with his sword in his hand, than to have
deceived them by the woodcutter's guise.
The war went on, and at last the King of England sent Henry, the good Duke
of Lancaster, to Bretagne at the head of a large force, with orders to lay
siege to Rennes, the city where Bertrand had passed the happiest days of
his boyhood, and which had twice been the scene of his triumphs. Besides
all the great English nobles who had accompanied the duke, the army was
increased by many Breton gentlemen who had enlisted themselves on the side
of Jean de Montfort, and Lancaster made a solemn vow not to depart from
Rennes until he had planted his standard upon its walls.
Bertrand concealed himself in a forest near the city, and constantly
harassed his enemies by rushing suddenly upon them, by day and by night,
and always to the cry of "Guesclin," until at last the Duke of Lancaster
swore that if ever the brave Breton captain fell into his hands, he would
never let him free, however large a ransom might be offered for him.
Lancaster made several attempts upon Rennes, but with little success. One
day an English officer who had been captured by Du Guesclin, told him that
his countrymen intended to undermine the city and open a breach. Upon this
news Bertrand contrived one very dark night to glide with his Bretons into
the midst of the English camp, where all was silent, and set fire to some
of the tents. The enemy, awakened by the usual cry of "Guesclin," thought
that Charles de Blois had fallen upon them with his army, and were very
angry as they put out their fires to find it was only Bertrand with his
handful of men.
The governor of Rennes now gave orders that in all the houses near the
ramparts little copper basins should be hung with one or two balls of brass
in each, so that by the jingling of the metal, which the movement of the
miners would cause, it might be known in what direction they were at work.
By this means the garrison were enabled to work against them until the mine
was pierced, and the besiegers found a body of troops ready to beat them
back.
The Duke of Lancaster now thought of another plan for subduing the people
of Rennes. Knowing that they were almost without provisions, he caused two
thousand pigs to be assembled in a field near the walls of the city, hoping
that the hungry inhabitants would come out for the purpose of capturing
them. The governor, however, was not to be outwitted, and had a sow
attached by a rope to the gate of Rennes, with its head downwards. The sow
struggled so hard to free itself and grunted and squeaked so loud that the
other pigs were naturally attracted to the spot. When the besieged saw that
the pigs were coming in that direction they lowered the drawbridge, and cut
the rope. The sow, thus released, ran joyfully back into the city, followed
by all the other pigs, and it was certain that the famished people of
Rennes had a good meal that day and for many days after.
Du Guesclin performed numerous acts of daring during the siege, and one
day, when the Bretons had eaten up the two thousand pigs and were very near
dying of hunger again, he intercepted and captured a hundred waggons,
loaded with wine, flour, and salt meat, which were on their way to the
English camp; but when he found that the waggoners were supplying these
provisions to the enemy at their own cost, he paid them liberally for all
that he had seized.
The Duke of Lancaster now prepared a huge machine which was often used in
those times of warfare. This was a wooden tower on wheels, as high as the
walls of the city, which contained a number of men inside, who shot surely
from it with their arrows. The tower would have caused great havoc, had not
Bertrand one night crawled out with his Bretons, and completely destroyed
it by fire.
Winter was now coming on: the lengthened siege had lost the lives of many
brave men, and Henry of Lancaster at last sent a herald to Du Guesclin to
tell him that he desired to speak with him. The herald brought a written
passport which, alas! Bertrand was obliged to have read to him by one of
his comrades. He had always been so heedless and disobedient in the old
days at La Motte, that no one had been able to teach him to read or write,
and he had never succeeded in learning in after years, although some
authors assert that he could really sign his name.
Bertrand dismissed the herald with a handsome present of clothes and money,
and then repaired to the camp of the brave English duke. When there he was
asked by Lancaster, whom he owned for his master. "Charles de Blois," he
replied promptly, "to whom Bretagne belongs in right of his wife."
The Duke was much pleased with his boldness and resolution, and offered him
a high rank in his army if he would consent to enter his service; but
Bertrand replied that nothing should ever shake him in his fidelity to
Charles de Blois.
Lancaster now received orders from his father to raise the siege: yet he
could not depart, in remembrance of the oath he had taken, and Du Guesclin
proposed that he should enter the city with ten of his knights, and plant
his standard on its walls. When this was done, Du Guesclin politely asked
him where the war was to be carried on in future. "Bertrand, my fair
friend," replied the duke, "you shall soon know." He had scarcely gone past
the barrier when he saw his standard thrown down into the moat;
nevertheless he had kept his oath, and having raised the siege, he decamped
with all his host, and went to pass the winter at Auray.