Poitiers.
The Black Prince had sailed from Plymouth on September 8th, 1355, with a
large band of nobles. He was received at Bordeaux with great joy by all
the nobles of the country. The Gascon lords were eager to fight under
the banner of so brave a prince, and to distinguish themselves by feats
of arms. They had long been annoyed by the inroads of the French, and
they now begged the prince to lead them on a foraging expedition into
France. They formed no plan for a campaign. The expedition was simply
undertaken from love of plunder, and of fighting for its own sake. The
Prince had the absolute command, and had been appointed the king's
lieutenant in Aquitaine. The expedition which he now undertook shows us
the dark side of chivalry. We see him and his young knights, in wanton
love of adventure, spreading ruin and destruction over the fairest
provinces of France.
On leaving Bordeaux he divided his army into several "battles." These
were to march at some distance from one another, that they might
devastate a larger extent of country. In this way they went through
Armagnac to the foot of the Pyrenees. Then the Prince turned northwards
to Toulouse, where he waited, hoping in vain that the French might be
provoked to battle. He next crossed the Garonne, and went to Carcassone,
a rich and populous city, as large as York. The inhabitants fled in
terror, leaving the city gates open. The town was plundered and burnt,
but the citadel stood firm, and the Prince passed on without troubling
to take it. To save themselves from a like fate, the inhabitants of
Montpelier destroyed their own suburbs, and the members of the ancient
university fled to Avignon, to seek shelter with the Pope. Narbonne was
one of the richest towns in France, and almost as large as London; it
also was burnt and plundered. In eight weeks the Black Prince succeeded
in ruining the richest district of France, from which the kings of
France drew the chief part of their revenue. Peace had reigned there for
more than a century, so that the inhabitants were ignorant of war and
its horrors. Now five hundred towns and villages were smoking in ruins;
the harvests were destroyed; everywhere there was devastation and ruin.
The name of the Black Prince had become a terror, not only to the people
whose peaceful homes he had destroyed, but to the whole of France.
Laden with booty, he and his knights returned to Bordeaux. Here the
Gascon soldiers were dismissed till the spring, when an expedition into
Poitou was talked of. The winter was spent by the Black Prince with his
knights in great joy and festivity. There, the herald Chandos tells us,
was "beauty and nobleness, sincerity, bounty and liberality." But
neither were they quite idle; for in the course of the winter they
succeeded in retaking such fortresses in Gascony as had been taken by
the French.
It was not till the middle of the following summer that the Black Prince
gathered his men together to start on a second campaign. He left
Bordeaux on the 8th July with only a small force--2,000 men-at-arms and
6,000 archers--partly Gascons and partly English. His object was to make
another foraging expedition, and, if possible, proceed onwards to join
his cousin the Duke of Lancaster in Normandy. He went through Auvergne
northward as far as Berry. Froissart tells us that they found the
province of Auvergne very rich, and all things in great abundance. They
burnt and destroyed all the country they passed through, and when they
entered any town which was well provisioned, they rested there some days
to refresh themselves, and on leaving destroyed what remained, staving
the heads of wine casks and burning the wheat and oats, so that their
enemies should not save anything. Everywhere they found plenty as they
advanced, for the country was very rich and full of forage for
men-at-arms.
At Vierzon, a town in Berry, they learnt that the King of France was at
Chartres with a large army, and that all the passes and towns on the
Loire were secured and so well guarded that no one could cross the
river. The Prince then held a council with his knights, and they
resolved to return to Bordeaux through Touraine and Poitou, destroying
all the country on their way. Near Romorantin some of the Prince's men
had a skirmish with some French soldiers, whom they routed. The castle
of Romorantin refused to yield to the Prince. As he was assailing it one
of his squires was killed at his side by a stone thrown from the castle.
The Prince was so furious that he swore he would not leave that place
till he had the castle and all in it in his power. Cannons were brought
forward, and Greek-fire was shot upon the town, till a large tower of
the castle, covered with thatch, caught fire and was all in a blaze.
Then the garrison had to yield; but the Prince treated them nobly, and
set many knights and squires at liberty, whilst he made the lords, who
had commanded the castle, ride by his side and attend him as his
prisoners.
When the King of France heard that the Prince was hastening back to
Bordeaux, he determined to pursue him, thinking that he could not
escape. He left Chartres, and marched south, to intercept him on his way
back. John was marching almost in a direct line south, whilst the Black
Prince was marching from Romorantin in a south-westerly direction. It
was therefore impossible but that they should meet. The English,
however, were ignorant of their danger, till they accidentally
discovered, when near Charigny, on September 17, by coming upon a French
reconnoitring party, that the great French army was between them and
Bordeaux. Escape was impossible. The Prince had only 8,000 men, while
John had a mighty army of 50,000. But Prince Edward would rather fight
even against such odds than yield to an enemy. All that remained for him
was to choose his position well and fight his best. The skilful tactics
displayed by the Prince in disposing of his small force, show us that he
was something more than merely a brave soldier.
King John sent Sir Eustace de Ribeaumont to reconnoitre the English. He
brought back an account of the way in which they were posted, which has
been preserved to us.
There were 2,000 men-at-arms, 6,000 archers, and about 1,000 camp
followers quartered on a small hill which did not contain 2,000 square
feet of ground. This hill was surrounded by very thick hedges, and was
divided in the middle by a road, a little crooked and so narrow that
hardly three men could go up it abreast. The road was covered on both
sides with high hedges, behind which were encamped the archers, who were
still at work making a new ditch. At the end of these hedges were the
men-at-arms on foot, each holding his horse by his bridle; they were
standing amidst vines and thorns, where it was impossible to march in
any regular order. Before them were drawn up the archers, arranged in
the manner of a harrow. On the left, where the hedges and the avenue
were not so thick, the waggons were piled one upon another to make a
barrier. Some cavalry were collected on a little eminence to the right,
that they might attack the enemy on the flanks.
[Illustration: Plan of the BATTLE of POTIERS 19th September 1356.]
On Sunday morning, September 18, King John was ready and impatient for
the attack. He ordered a solemn mass to be sung in his tent, and he and
his four sons partook of the communion. After some debate with his chief
nobles, it was ordered that the whole army should push into the plain,
and that each lord should display his banner, and advance in the name of
God and St. Denis. The trumpets sounded, and every one mounted his
horse, and made for that part of the plain where the King's banner was
planted and fluttering in the wind. "There," says Froissart, "might be
seen all the nobility of France, richly dressed in brilliant armour,
with banners and pennons gallantly displayed; for all the flower of the
French nobility was there: no knight nor squire, for fear of dishonour,
dared to remain at home." And all this mighty force was going to attack
a small body of 8,000 men, mostly simple archers, men of the people,
standing at bay amidst the hedges and vineyards on the little hill.
When the French were on the point of marching against their enemies, the
Cardinal of Perigord, who had left Poitiers that morning early, came at
full gallop to the King, and making a deep reverence, begged him for the
love of God to stay a minute. "Most dear sire," he said, with uplifted
hands, "you have here all the flower of knighthood of your kingdom
against a handful of people such as the English are. You may have them
upon other terms than by a battle. I beseech you by the love of God let
me go to the Prince and remonstrate with him on the dangerous situation
he is in." Then the King answered, "It is agreeable to us, but make
haste back again." The Cardinal found the Prince on foot in the thickest
part of the vineyard, and when he asked him for permission to make up
matters between him and the King of France, the Prince replied, "Sir, my
own honour and that of my army saved, I am ready to listen to reasonable
terms." The Cardinal then returned to John, and after much eloquent
pleading succeeded in persuading him to consent to a truce till the next
day at sunrise. The King ordered a very handsome and rich pavilion of
red silk to be pitched on the spot where he stood, and dismissed his
army to their quarters for the present.
All Sunday the Cardinal rode from one army to another, and did his
utmost to bring about a peaceful agreement. But the King of France would
listen to nothing unless the Prince of Wales and one hundred of his
knights surrendered themselves prisoners. To these terms the Prince
could not be expected to consent. On Monday morning the French almost
angrily bade the Cardinal begone and trouble them no more with his
entreaties. Then he went to the Prince of Wales, and said, "Fair son,
exert yourself as much as possible, for there must be a battle." The
Prince replied that such were his intentions, and those of his army,
"and God defend the right." On the whole the Cardinal did not meet with
much gratitude from either side for his endeavours, and he went sadly
back to Poitiers.
Sunday had been spent by the Prince's men in making many mounds and
ditches round the ground where the archers stood, to secure their
position. They were much straitened for want of provisions, as they
could not without danger move from their place to seek them. The French,
on the other hand, were well supplied, and spent the day in the midst of
plenty. When the Prince saw on Monday morning that the battle was
inevitable, and knew with what contempt the French regarded him and his
men, he spoke thus to his army: "Now, my gallant fellows, what though we
be a small body when compared to the army of our enemies, do not let us
be cast down on that account, for victory does not always follow
numbers, but where the Almighty God pleases to bestow it. If through
good fortune the day shall be ours, we shall gain the greatest honour
and glory in this world; if the contrary should happen, and we be slain,
I have a father and beloved brethren alive, and you all have some
relations or good friends, who will be sure to revenge our deaths. I
therefore beg you exert yourselves and fight manfully, for if it please
God and St. George you shall see me this day act like a true knight."
With these and other words the Prince and his marshals encouraged the
men, so that they were all in high spirits.
Then the Prince retired a little way apart, and kneeling down, prayed,
"Father Almighty, as I have ever believed that Thou art King over all
kings, and that for us upon the cross Thou wert content to suffer death
to save us from the pains of hell; Father, who art very God and very
man, be pleased for Thy holy name to guard me and my people from ill,
even as, O heavenly Father, Thou knowest that I have good cause." Then
he was ready to fight. Sir John Chandos placed himself near the Prince
to guard and advise him, and never during that day would he on any
account quit his post.
As the battle was about to begin, Sir James Audley came to the Prince,
and told him that he had made a vow, that if ever he should be engaged
in any battle where the King or any of his sons were, he would be
foremost in the attack, and the best combatant on their side, or die in
the attempt. Now he begged permission to leave the Prince's side, and
perform his vow. The Prince consented; and holding out his hand to him,
said, "Sir James, God grant that this day you may shine in valour above
all other knights." Sir James then proceeded to the front, attended only
by four squires. He was a prudent and a valiant knight, and the order in
which the army had been arranged was owing in great part to his advice.
The French now began to advance. Before reaching the battalion of the
Prince they must pass up the narrow lane, where scarce three men could
walk abreast, the sides of which were lined with rows of archers. It was
certain death for those who advanced first; but the French knights were
brave, and did not fear death. Two French marshals commanding a body of
cavalry fearlessly entered the lane; but as soon as they were well
enclosed, the archers let loose their flight of arrows. A deadly and
persistent shower came from each side of the lane. The French horses,
smarting under the pain of the wounds made by the arrows, would not
advance, but turned about, and were so unruly as to throw their masters,
who could not manage them. So great was the confusion, that those who
had fallen could not get up again. Trampled upon by the terrified horses
and wounded by the arrows, they lay writhing on the ground in agony.
Some few knights were so well mounted that, by the strength of their
horses, they passed through and broke the hedge, but still could not
succeed in getting up to the battalion of the Prince. Sir James Audley
stood in front of it with his four squires, performing prodigies of
valour, and stayed not to make any prisoners.
The first battalion of the French was completely routed; for the English
men-at-arms rushed in upon them as they were struck down by the archers,
and seized and slew them at their pleasure. As this French battalion
fell back, it prevented the main body of the army from advancing. The
next battalion was commanded by the Duke of Normandy, King John's
eldest son. It was seized by wild terror at seeing the retreat of the
first battalion, and many knights mounted their horses and started off
in flight. A body of English came down from the hill, and attacking
their flank, completed their terror. The English archers shot so quickly
and well that the French did not know which way to turn themselves to
avoid their arrows.
Little by little the English men-at-arms advanced under cover of the
shower of arrows sent by their archers. When they saw the first French
battalion beaten, and the second in disorder, they mounted their horses,
which they held by their bridles, and raised a shout of "St. George for
Guienne." Sir John Chandos said to the Prince, "Sir, now push forward;
for the day is ours. God will this day put it in your hand. Let us make
for the King of France. Where he is will lie the main stress of the
business. His valour will not let him fly. He will be ours, if it please
God and St. George; but he must be well fought with. You have before
said that you will show yourself this day a good knight." The Prince
answered, "John, get forward; you shall not see me turn my back this
day; for I will always be among the foremost."
As they advanced the battle grew very hot, and was greatly crowded. Many
a one was unhorsed. The battalion of the Duke of Normandy, on seeing the
Prince's approach, hastened their flight. The King's three sons, who
commanded it, were advised to fly, and galloped away. Many others
followed their example, though there were not wanting some brave knights
who preferred death to flight. Then the King's battalion advanced in
good order. The King and his knights had dismounted. They despaired of
the day, but were determined at least to save their honour. Fighting on
foot, it was hard to resist the shock of the English men-at-arms; but
the King fought with desperate bravery, and by his side fought his
little son Philip, a boy of fifteen, who warned his father against
unexpected blows. The bravery of the boy on that day earned for him the
surname of _le hardi_, the bold. He is that Philip le Hardi afterwards
so well known as Duke of Burgundy.
King John proved himself a good knight; if the fourth of his people had
behaved as well, the day would have been his own. Round him his knights
too fought with great courage. Many were slain at his side, and others
were obliged to yield themselves prisoners. The King himself was twice
wounded in the face, but still fought bravely on. Many of the English
who knew him pressed round in eagerness to take him, crying out,
"Surrender yourself, or you are a dead man." He was getting very roughly
treated, when a young knight, called Denys Morbeque, forced his way
through the medley, and bade the King surrender to him. Then the King
turned to him, and said, "To whom shall I surrender myself? Where is my
cousin, the Prince of Wales? If I could see him I would speak to him."
"Sire," answered Denys, "he is not here; but surrender yourself to me,
and I will lead you to him." Then the King asked who he was; and on
learning, gave him his right hand glove, and said, "I surrender myself
to you."
Meanwhile the Prince of Wales had been fighting with the courage of a
lion. Sir John Chandos, who had never left his side, now said to him,
"Sir, it will be right for you to halt here, and plant your banner on
the top of this bush, that you may rally your scattered forces. I do not
see any banners or pennons of the French. They cannot rally again, and
you must refresh yourself a little, as you are very much heated." Then
the banner of the Prince was placed on a high bush. The minstrels began
to play, and the trumpets and clarions to sound. The Prince took off his
helmet to cool himself, and his attendants soon pitched a small pavilion
of crimson cloth, into which he entered. Wine was given him and his
knights to drink. Every minute fresh knights kept arriving. They were
returning from the pursuit, which was carried even to the gates of
Poitiers, and now stopped with their prisoners at the Prince's tent. The
Prince asked eagerly for news of the King of France. None had seen him
leave his battalion; he must be either killed or a prisoner. Immediately
the Prince ordered two of his barons, the Earl of Warwick and Lord
Cobham, to ride off and learn what they could about the King. They soon
came upon a crowd of men-at-arms, English and Gascon, who had snatched
the King of France from the knight who had first taken him, and were now
disputing who should have him. The King, feeling himself in danger,
entreated them to take him and his son in a courteous manner to the
Prince, as he was great enough to make them all rich. The two barons
forced their way through the crowd, and ordered them, under pain of
instant death, to retreat. Then dismounting they greeted the King with
profound reverence, and led him quietly to the Prince's tent. The Prince
on seeing his royal prisoner made him a low bow, and gave him such
comfort as he could. He ordered wine and spices to be brought, and
himself waited on the King.
The battle had begun at nine in the morning, and was over at noon. But
not till dusk did the English return from the pursuit of their enemies.
So great was the number of prisoners, that the English feared that it
might be difficult to keep them all, and thought it wiser to ransom a
great part of them on the spot. Such was the confidence inspired by
chivalry in a man's word, that many were released on their promise of
coming to Bordeaux before Christmas to pay their ransom. No fewer than
seventeen counts were among the prisoners, and six thousand men lay dead
upon the field. The English encamped that night on the battle-field
amidst the dead. Many of them had hardly tasted bread for three days.
Now they had abundance of all things, for the French had brought great
stores of provisions with them. Besides provisions, they gained also
quantities of gold and silver plate, rich jewels, and furred mantles.
The French army had come, confident of victory, provided with
magnificent dresses and luxuries of all kinds.
That evening the Prince of Wales gave a supper in his pavilion to the
King of France. The food served had all been taken from the French, as
the English had nothing. The French King, with his son and his principal
barons, was seated at the chief table, and was waited upon by the Prince
himself, who showed every mark of humility. He would not sit down at the
table, though pressed to do so, but said that he was not worthy of so
great an honour; nor did it become him to seat himself at the table of
so great a King, or of so valiant a man as he had shown himself by his
actions that day. He did his utmost to cheer the King, saying, "Dear
sir, do not make a poor meal because the Almighty God has not gratified
your wishes in the event of this day. Be assured that my father will
show you every honour and friendship in his power, and will arrange your
ransom so reasonably that you will henceforward always remain friends.
In my opinion, you have cause to be glad that the success of this battle
did not turn out as you desired; for you have this day acquired such
high renown for prowess, that you have surpassed all the best knights on
your side. I do not say this, dear sir, to flatter you; for all on our
side who saw the deeds of both parties agree that this is your due, and
award you the prize and garland for it." This little speech was greeted
with murmurs of applause from every one. The French said the Prince had
spoken nobly and truly, and that he would be one of the most gallant
princes in Christendom, if God should grant him life to pursue his
career of glory.
After supper the English repaired to their several tents, each taking
with him the knights or squires he had captured. They soon came to
agreement about ransoms, as the English lords were not greedy in their
demands, and asked no more than each man declared he could pay. The next
morning they rose early and heard mass. After breakfast, whilst the
servants packed up the baggage, their lords decamped, and the army began
its march to Bordeaux.
The Minorites of the convent of Poitiers took upon themselves the
melancholy task of burying the dead. The bodies were carried in carts,
and buried in large graves in their churchyard. Funeral masses were sung
in all the churches and convents of the town of Poitiers, at the cost of
the good citizens of the town.
So was fought the great battle of Poitiers, a signal instance of what a
small force can do when skilfully posted and fighting for its life. The
French army failed through their excess of confidence in their proud
strength. The first rebuff was so unexpected that it struck terror into
the whole army, and made them fly before a quarter of their number had
been really engaged in battle. Of the English, few fought more bravely
than Sir James Audley, who was badly wounded. The Prince inquired for
him after the battle, and caused him to be carried in a litter to the
spot where he was standing. Then he bent down over him and embraced him,
saying that he had acquired glory and renown above them all, and proved
himself the bravest knight. As a reward, he endowed him with a yearly
income of five hundred marks. This pension Sir James afterwards divided
between the four squires who had fought so bravely with him; and when
the Prince learnt this, he praised him much for his generosity.
Bravest, and at the same time most modest, of all the knights was the
Prince himself. Two letters are still preserved in which he gives an
account of the battle, one to the Bishop of Worcester, and one to the
city of London. In each he tells the simplest story of his victory,
taking no credit to himself. In his letter to the city of London, after
describing the events which led up to the battle of Poitiers, he says,
"For default of victuals, as well as for other reasons, it was agreed
that we should take our way, flanking them in such manner, that if they
wished for battle, or to draw towards us in a place that was not very
much to our disadvantage, we should be the first; and so forthwith it
was done. Whereupon battle was joined on the eve of the day before St.
Matthew (21st September), and, God be praised for it, the enemy was
discomfited, and the King was taken and his son, and a great number of
other great people were both slain and taken, as our chamberlain, the
bearer hereof, who has very full knowledge thereon, will know how more
fully to inform and show you, as we are not able to write to you."