The latter had repeatedly sent money and men to the aid of the Scots,
and to pave the way for the return of the young king and queen, who were
exiles in France. But the immediate instigator of Edward's enterprise
was the brother-in-law of Philip, Robert of Artois, who had incurred the
king's anger, and had fled the country in disguise. This Robert, Count
of Artois, was a man of fiery temper, and unprincipled. He had married
the king's sister; and, being in high favour with him, hoped to prevail
upon him to reverse the acts of Philip the Fair, which had prevented his
succession to the earldom of Artois. Robert was undoubtedly the male
heir; but his aunt Matilda being married to Otho, Duke of Burgundy, and
his two daughters to two sons of Philip the Fair, that monarch adjudged
the county of Artois to the heir female, and this judgment was confirmed
by Philip the Long. The count had clearly just cause of complaint, and
on the death of Charles the Fair he zealously supported the claims of
Philip of Valois, and hoped, from the services which he then rendered, as
well as from his alliance by marriage, that the king would now reverse
this settlement of the county of Artois in his favour. Philip, however,
though he held the count in the highest esteem, and consulted him on all
occasions of state, yet declined to reverse the decisions of his two
predecessors.
[Illustration: PORCH OF THE GOLDEN VIRGIN: AMIENS CATHEDRAL.]
But this by no means contented Robert of Artois. He forged a will, as
that of his grandfather, settling the county upon him, and presented it
to the king. Philip, who instantly recognised the forgery, denounced so
mean and criminal an act in no measured terms; and the count retired,
muttering that he who placed the crown on Philip's head knew how to take
it off again. These words being reported to Philip, he appeared to have
lost all command of himself: he condemned the count for forgery, degraded
him from all honours and offices, confiscated his property, and banished
him from France. His rage did not stop there. He seized and imprisoned
the count's wife, though his own sister, on pretence of her cognizance of
the fraud; burnt at the stake a woman of the house of Bethune, as the
actual framer of the deed, and as having practised by sorcery against
the king's life. He still pursued the fugitive count, by interfering to
prevent his stay in Brabant, where he had taken refuge.
However righteous might be this indignation, it was far from politic, for
Robert of Artois was thus driven into the arms of Edward of England. He
exerted all his art and persuasion with Edward to assert his title to the
crown of France. The king and Robert were united by no common principle,
except that of professed resentment against the King of France, and
of having just claims in his country; though one was excluded by male
heirship and the other by female. The King of France, sensible of the
mischief the count might create in the English court against him, called
upon Edward to expel him from the country, and threatened, in case of
refusal, to fall upon Guienne. This only added to the anger of Edward
and to the ostensible motives of invasion. The King of France issued a
sentence of felony and attainder against the count and against every
vassal of his crown who harboured him. Edward retorted the protection
which he had given to his enemy, the King of Scots, and commenced active
measures for invading France. He made alliances with various princes of
the Netherlands and Germany; his father-in-law, the Count of Hainault,
was his active agent, and very soon were engaged the Duke of Brabant, the
Duke of Gueldres, the Archbishop of Cologne, the Marquis of Juliers, the
Count of Namur, and the people of Flanders. The Count of Flanders adhered
to Philip, who also engaged the Kings of Navarre and Bohemia, the Dukes
of Brittany, Austria, and Louvain, the Palatine of the Rhine, and some
other princes of Germany.
Edward expected more efficient aid from the Flemings than from any other
of his allies; they had grown rich and considerable through trade, and
had dealings with England, whence they received wool, and where they
found good customers for their manufactures. They were the first people
in the northern countries of Europe who had made progress in the arts and
in manufactures, and their self-earned affluence had the usual effect
of inspiring them with a spirit of independence. They had resisted and
thrown off the oppression of their nobles, and expelled the Count, who
was not disposed to consent to their bold assumptions. A wealthy brewer,
Jacob van Artevelde, a sort of Cromwell of the Netherlands, had, by the
force of his character, not only led them on, but placed himself at
their head, and now exercised a power equal to that of any sovereign.
He entered heartily into Edward's views, and inspired his countrymen
with them, who had a great dislike to Philip of France, because he had
supported their Count against them. He invited Edward to Flanders, and
promised him vigorous aid.
Edward, before embarking in this serious undertaking, called for the
advice of his Parliament, and solicited its support, which was promptly
given. It voted him 20,000 sacks of wool, the very commodity of all
others acceptable to the Flemings, and of the supposed value of £100,000.
With the price of this wool he could also pay his German allies. Besides
this grant, he levied a heavy contribution on the tin of Cornwall, pawned
the jewels of the crown, and raised money by all possible means--amongst
others, seizing on the property of the Lombards, who now exercised the
trade of money-lending, formerly carried on by the Jews. With a numerous
fleet, he set sail from Orwell, in Suffolk, on the 15th of July, 1338,
attended by a considerable body of English troops and some of his
nobility.
On landing at Antwerp he found it difficult to move his various allies,
who, like Continental allies in all ages, were much fonder of receiving
their subsidies than of fighting. The Germans demurred to advance
against France except by authority of the Emperor of Germany, who,
therefore, conferred on Edward the title of vicar of the empire. The
Flemings, who were vassals of France, had like scruples to combat, which
were eventually overcome by Edward assuming, at the instigation of Van
Artevelde, the style of King of France, and, under plea of the right it
conferred, claiming their aid in deposing Philip of Valois as the usurper
of his realm.
By this act Edward effected that breach between England and France which
took so many ages to heal, and which was the spring of incalculable
miseries to both countries. Till then, the nobility, coming originally
from Normandy, were to be found almost as frequently at the English court
as at that of France, and the two countries seemed little different from
the wide empire of one people under two or more sovereigns. This step
was not taken by Edward without misgivings and reluctance; and no sooner
was it made than his allies began to show symptoms of backwardness. The
Duke of Brabant, the most powerful amongst the princes, seemed inclined
to withdraw from his alliance, and was only held to his engagements by
fresh privileges of trade being granted to his subjects, and a marriage
contracted between the Black Prince and his daughter. To move the
Germans, Edward promised an attack on Cambray, a city of the empire which
Philip had seized upon, or, in other words, to pay them for allowing him
to fight their own battles. Finding that the attempt was useless, he then
led his allies to the frontiers of France, where many of them threw off
all pretence of doing that for which they had been so liberally paid, and
refused to fight against France. Amongst these were the Count of Namur
and the Count of Hainault, Edward's own brother-in-law (the old count
being dead), who now discovered that they were vassals of France, and
could not possibly direct their arms against it. We do not read that on
this discovery they refunded the money they had pocketed for this very
purpose.
Deserted by these mercenaries, Edward, however, still advanced, and
entered France, encamping at Vironfosse, near Capelle, with 50,000 men,
chiefly foreigners. Philip came against him with an army of nearly
twice that number, consisting of his own subjects, and having the
advantage of being accompanied, blessed, and encouraged by the Pope--a
most inspiriting circumstance in that age. Benedict XII. lived then at
Avignon, and was a dependent on France, besides being incensed at Edward
making an alliance with the Emperor Louis of Bavaria, who lay under the
ban of his excommunication. Edward marched as far as Péronne and St.
Quentin, burning the villages and laying waste the country. The French
king, however, avoided hazarding an engagement, and Edward, having made
a detour by the Ardennes, found his armies exhausted, and returned to
Ghent. There Benedict endeavoured to negotiate a peace between the two
monarchs; but Edward, despite the utter failure of his campaign, refused
to listen to it. Yet his situation was pitiable, and his feelings could
be by no means enviable. He had consumed and, indeed, anticipated, his
whole year's revenue; he had seized largely on the substance of his
subjects, had pawned everything belonging to himself and his queen, and
was now in a manner in pawn himself, for he had incurred debts to his
miserable, useless allies to the amount of £300,000. They would not
allow him to return to England even to raise fresh resources, without
leaving his queen behind, as a pledge of his return. Thus all his grand
undertaking had ended in complete failure; nothing had been done, and
only formidable engagements had been incurred.
In February, 1340, he managed to get across to England, where nothing but
difficulties and mortifications awaited him. He had sent over during
the campaign to obtain fresh supplies from Parliament through his son,
whom he had left guardian. Parliament offered to grant him 30,000 more
sacks of wool, but then they demanded in return that the king should make
considerable abatements both of royal licence and prerogative. The king
had caused sheriffs and other placemen to be elected into Parliament to
increase his facility of obtaining grants. This stretch of power the
Parliament very properly insisted should cease, and to that the king
consented; but they went on next to demand that the ancient privileges of
purveyance and levying of feudal aids, for knighting the king's eldest
son and marrying his eldest daughter, should be abolished. There the king
demurred; these were his ancient rights, and not all his necessities, and
the temptation of the 30,000 sacks of wool, could induce him to sacrifice
them. When he appeared in person, he obtained better terms, but not
without a struggle. Parliament now called for a confirmation of the two
charters, which the kings of those ages were always breaking, and which
Edward had to confirm fifteen times in the course of his reign. This,
therefore, he probably considered no great matter; but Parliament also
asked for a confirmation of the privileges of boroughs, a pardon for old
debts and offences, and some reforms in the administration of the common
law. In return for these concessions, it offered him the liberal supplies
of a ninth fleece, lamb, and sheep, and the same of the movables of the
burgesses; as well as a duty of forty shillings on each last of leather,
on each sack of wool, and on each 300 sheep-skins exported, for two
years; and because these would come in too slowly, they gave him 20,000
sacks of wool at once, to be deducted from these taxes. Parliament also
took a very prudent precaution, in affording him the sinews of war, to
protest against the assumption of the title of King of France, declaring
that they owed him no obeisance as King of France, and that the kingdoms
must for ever remain separate and independent of each other.
While the king was making these preparations for the renewal of the
war, Philip of France was using strenuous exertions to collect a fleet
powerful enough to prevent his landing. He had sought this aid from
the Genoese, at that time the great maritime power; as we shall soon
find that he had also employed them, to a large extent, as archers in
his army. The fleet numbered 400 sail, manned by Genoese sailors, and
containing an army of 40,000 men; that is, about 100 men on an average
to a vessel; from which we may form some idea of the smallness of the
ships of those times. Edward, informed of this, collected also a fleet,
with which, though consisting of only 240 sail, he was impatient to set
out and engage that of his rival. His council advised him to wait till
he had a force more equal; but Edward set out on the 22nd of June, many
English ladies going over in other vessels to pay their respects to
the queen. On the 24th the English fleet was off the harbour of Sluys,
in Flanders, and there found the French fleet lying to prevent their
disembarkation. Their masts and streamers, says Froissart, appeared like
a wood. When Edward saw them, he exclaimed, "Ha! I have long desired
to fight the French, and now I will do it, by the grace of God and St.
George!"
The next morning, having placed the vessels bearing the ladies at such
a distance that they might see the battle in safety, Edward, with the
instinctive address of a British naval captain, manoeuvred so as to
get the wind of the enemy. This movement, being mistaken by the French
for a sign of fear in the king, induced them to come pouring out of the
harbour; by which Edward gained another object which he sought, that of
having them more in his power of attack. The battle commenced at ten in
the morning, and lasted nine hours. During the fight the Genoese showered
in upon the English their arrows from their deadly crossbows; but they
were briskly answered by the long bows of the English; and when all the
arrows were spent, they seized each others' ships with grappling irons
and chains, and the men-at-arms fought hand to hand with swords and axes,
as if on land. The English, fighting in the presence and under the daring
example of their king, displayed the utmost courage, and finally victory
decided for them. They took or destroyed nearly the whole of the French
fleet. Fifteen thousand of the enemy--some authors say more--were killed,
or perished in the sea. To make the catastrophe the more complete, the
Flemings, seeing the battle incline for the English, rushed down to the
shore in great numbers, and cut off the retreat of the French, making
terrible slaughter amongst them. Edward then accomplished his landing
with the utmost _éclat_, inspiring his allies with some temporary spirit.
So terrible was the defeat of the French that none durst breathe a
syllable of it in the hearing of Philip; and it was made known to him
only by the Court jester. Some one speaking of the English, "Bah!"
said the fool, "the English are but cowards." "Why so?" said the king.
"Because," added the fool, "they did not dare the other day at Sluys to
leap into the sea from their ships like the French and Normans."
Edward had lost about 4,000 men himself in the battle, but still he had
no lack of followers. The splendour of this victory, and the fame of the
large sums which he had brought with him, gathered his allies about him
like swarms of locusts. Nearly 200,000 men advanced with him towards
the French frontiers, but achieved nothing of consequence. Of these,
50,000, under Robert of Artois, laid siege to St. Omer. A single sally
of the governor was enough to squander these untutored forces, and,
notwithstanding the abilities of Robert of Artois, they could never again
be collected. Edward invested Tournay, which was defended by a strong
garrison; and when reduced to distress, Philip appeared with a large
army, but avoided coming to action. Edward, provoked at this caution,
sent him a challenge to single combat, which he declined. While the
armies lay in this position, and Edward had wasted ten weeks, effecting
nothing, and paying his numerous army of useless allies, Jane, Countess
of Hainault, sister to Philip and mother-in-law of Edward, came forward,
as a mediatrix between them. She had retired from the world to a convent,
but this destructive quarrel between persons so near to her called her
forth to endeavour to reconcile them. Her exertions were seconded by the
Pope and cardinals; but all that they could effect was a truce for one
year.
Philip managed soon after to win over the Emperor of Germany, who revoked
Edward's title of imperial vicar, and his other allies rapidly withdrew
as his money failed. He was now harassed by them as most importunate
creditors, and was glad to steal away to England, where he arrived in
the worst of humours. He had involved himself deeply in debt, and had
achieved nothing but his naval victory. The anger which was excited by
his foreign creditors fell on his subjects at home. Landing unexpectedly,
he found the Tower very negligently guarded, and he immediately
committed the constable and all in charge of it to prison. He then
let his vengeance fall on the officers of the revenue, and collectors
of the taxes, who had so greatly failed him in his need. Sir John St.
Paul, keeper of the privy seal, Sir John Stonore, chief justice, and
Andrew Aubrey, Mayor of London, were displaced and imprisoned, as
were also the Bishops of Chichester and Lichfield, the Chancellor and
Treasurer. Stratford, Archbishop of Canterbury, to whom the charge of
collecting the new taxes had chiefly been entrusted, also fell under
his displeasure; but he assumed an attitude of defiance, threatening
excommunication against any one daring to execute these illegal arrests,
as he termed them, and appealed to Magna Charta in behalf of himself and
brethren. The king appointed Commissioners to inquire into the guilt
of all concerned. He issued a proclamation, accusing the archbishop of
having embezzled or misapplied the taxes intended for the king's use.
The archbishop denied the charge, and supported by the clergy in a
regular combination against the king, accused him of arbitrary acts and
infringements of the constitution, telling him that the favour of the
Church was higher than that of the state, inasmuch as the priests had
to answer at the Divine tribunal for the conduct of kings themselves,
and reminding him that prelates before then had cited emperors to their
seats of judgment. This dispute was carried on with great heat on both
sides; but the king, driven by the clamours of his creditors, was obliged
to call a Parliament; and though he omitted to summon Stratford and the
other bishops, the archbishop appeared before the gates arrayed in full
pontificals, with crozier in hand, and attended by an imposing train of
bishops and priests. He demanded admittance as the highest peer in the
realm; but it was not till Edward had kept him there two days that he
admitted him, and even became reconciled to him.
The king's necessities, no doubt, made him give way, for he had
difficulties sufficient without the opposition of the clergy. He was
overwhelmed with debts, for which he was paying ruinous interest, and
was worried both by his foreign and domestic creditors. His attempts on
France, which had brought him into this humiliating condition, had proved
utter failures. Parliament declined to assist him, except on its usual
conditions of fresh restrictions on his power. The barons claimed that
peers should only be tried by peers; they called for a new subscription
of the Great Charter; they demanded that no offices should be filled,
except by the advice of his Council; and that at the commencement of
every session he should resume all offices, in order to inquire into
their faithful discharge. Edward, as was his wont, signed all these and
other demands, obtained his grant of 20,000 more sacks of wool, and then
declared that the conditions to which he had agreed were void, because
they had been extorted.
It was hoped that the truce which had been entered into between France
and England might be succeeded by a peace. Edward's total want of success
might naturally have been expected to incline him to it; but he claimed
exemption from rendering homage for Guienne, and demanded that Philip
should cease to support the King of Scots against him. Neither of these
points would Philip yield, when an event took place which renewed the war
with fresh spirit, and with the most wonderful change of fortune.
This event was the disputed succession to the dukedom of Brittany. John
III., duke of that province, died in April, 1341. He had no children, but
desiring that his niece Jane, the daughter of his younger but deceased
brother Guy, Count of Penthièvre, should succeed him, he had married her
to Charles of Blois, nephew of the King of France. Before doing this, he
had assembled the states of Brittany, which had fully assented; all his
vassals, and amongst them John de Montfort, the son of his also deceased
brother Arthur. But, though John de Montfort had not dared to oppose the
will of his uncle during his lifetime, no sooner was he dead than he
asserted his own higher claim to the duchy. He was, in fact, the true
heir male. While Charles of Blois was at the court of France, soliciting
the investiture of the duchy, John de Montfort rode at once to Nantes,
took possession of the late duke's house and treasures, prevailed on the
chief barons and bishops to recognise his right, and made himself master
of Brest, Rennes, Hennebont, and other towns and fortresses.
De Montfort, convinced that Philip would take part with his own kinsman,
Charles of Blois, hastened to England, where he did homage to Edward, as
the rightful king of France, for the duchy of Brittany, and proposed an
alliance for the mutual maintenance of their claims in France. Edward
instantly perceived the immense advantages which this new connection
would give to his designs on that kingdom. All his enthusiasm for its
conquest revived; and this feeling was fanned into flame by Robert
of Artois. Edward closed with the offer, and De Montfort returned to
Brittany to put it into a state of complete defence. He was speedily
summoned to Paris to appear before the peers of France, called by the
king to decide this great cause. De Montfort boldly went; but, finding
himself charged with the offence of doing homage to Edward of England as
his superior, he took just alarm, and made his escape from the city.
[Illustration: THE COUNTESS DE MONTFORT INCITING THE PEOPLE OF RENNES TO
RESIST THE FRENCH KING. (_See p._ 409.)]
The Peers, as might have been expected, adjudged the duchy to Charles
of Blois, declaring that John de Montfort had forfeited whatever claim
he might have by his treasonable homage to the King of England. Philip
ordered his eldest son to march into Brittany at the head of an army,
to assist Charles of Blois to expel John de Montfort. Under him, but
the actual commander of the forces, was a celebrated warrior, Louis de
la Cerda, commonly called Don Louis of Spain; and by his able conduct
Nantes was speedily recovered, and De Montfort taken prisoner, sent
to Paris, and confined in the Louvre, where he long remained. By this
event the claims of De Montfort, and the new hopes of Edward, appeared
to be extinguished. Charles of Blois considered the war at an end, took
possession of Nantes and other towns, and seemed to have before him a
very easy business to establish himself in the duchy. But all parties
were surprised by a new incident, which soon gave a more determined
character to the contest. Jane, the wife of De Montfort, sister to the
Count of Flanders, was in Rennes when her husband was made prisoner at
Nantes. She instantly displayed the spirit of a great woman, and instead
of weakly yielding to grief or fear, she immediately assembled the people
of Rennes, presented her infant son to them, recommending him to their
protection as the last remaining hope of their country, and declared her
resolve to defend the duchy to the last against the usurper. She reminded
them of the alliance of England, and promised them certain success. The
audience, struck with wonder at her courage, and moved to tears by her
appeal, vowed to stand by her to the death, and the same spirit animated
all the other towns of Brittany. The brave lady--who, according to
Froissart "had the courage of a man and the heart of a lion"--went from
place to place rousing the people, encouraging the garrisons, and seeing
that they were well provisioned and placed in a condition of the greatest
strength. Finding that she could not hold Rennes against Charles of
Blois and the French army, she shut herself up in Hennebont, and awaited
succour from England. She despatched to Edward fresh information of her
situation, and with it her son, to be there in a place of safety, and, as
it were, a pledge to the King of England of her fixed determination to
defend her cause to the last.
Charles of Blois speedily sat down before Hennebont, with a great army
of French, Bretons, Spaniards, and Genoese, and trusted to take the
countess prisoner, and so put a finish to the war. But the countess,
inspiriting everybody by her words and example, made a stout defence. She
herself put on armour, and rode through the streets on a noble charger,
exhorting the citizens to show themselves valiant. She was at every post
of danger, at the gates or on the walls, where the enemy's arrows fell
thickest. The very women, fired by her bravery, cut short their gowns,
that they might be the more active, and, tearing up the pavement of the
streets, carried the stones to the walls, or prepared pots of quicklime
and other missiles to discharge on the besiegers. Women of all ranks
were seen engaged in these labours without distinction, and the countess
continually headed sorties on the enemy. One day, during a long and
desperate assault, watching its progress from the walls, she perceived
that Charles of Blois had directed such a force against the city that a
part of his camp was quite deserted. She instantly dismounted, called
together a body of 300 brave knights and esquires, and, issuing from a
gate opposite to that where the French were so intently engaged, she led
them, under cover of some woods and hills, to the unguarded camp, upon
which they fell, setting fire to the tents, baggage, and magazines, and
doing immense mischief. When the besiegers saw their own quarters in
flames, they cried "Treason! treason!" and rushed to the defence. The
brave countess, seeing that her retreat was cut off, instantly adapted
her plan, bidding her followers to disband and make their way as they
could to Brest. The countess herself galloped off, but was hotly pursued
by Don Louis of Spain, as vindictive as he was brave, who came so near
her as to kill several of her followers. The countess however, made good
her rendezvous with her followers, and speedily was on her way back, at
the head, not of 300, but of 500 men. Taking refuge in the castle of
Auray, and watching their opportunity, they left the castle at midnight,
reached the neighbourhood of Hennebont at sunrise, and, darting past the
astonished besiegers, effected an entrance into the city on the sixth
day after they had left it. This gallant and successful action on the
part of the countess greatly amazed Charles of Blois and his army, and
encouraged her own people, who received her with trumpets sounding an
every demonstration of triumph.
Still the French pressed on, and the English succours, daily and hourly
looked for, did not arrive. The besiegers had already made several
breaches in the walls; provisions were growing scarce; the garrison was
overwhelmed with fatigue and watching; and, still worse, the Bishop of
Laon, a friend of Charles of Blois, was in the city, under the double
character of an ecclesiastic and an ambassador, and was using all his
endeavours to induce the countess to yield. His words had the worst
effect on the inhabitants. He was continually going about describing
the horrors attending a city given up to pillage, and recommending a
capitulation. It was surprising that the countess, so quick to perceive
her interests in other respects, should have tolerated his mischievous
presence there. At length, however, he prevailed on her followers to
propose a surrender. The brave countess implored them to wait, assuring
them that the English succours must arrive; but the bishop now pressed
his advantage; he called the Breton lords together again the next day,
and, keeping up his communications with the besiegers without, they
drew nearer, with Charles of Blois at their head, in readiness to take
possession. The countess, in the greatest anxiety, kept a constant
look-out from a tower commanding a view of the sea, and at the very
moment when the traitorous Bishop of Laon was about to make over the
city, she descried a large squadron steering towards Hennebont. She
immediately shouted--"Behold the Red Cross! the English succours! No
capitulation!" The people of the town all rushed to the ramparts to see
the joyful sight. It was, indeed, the English fleet, which had been
detained at sea forty days by contrary winds, but now was coming on with
full sail.
All thoughts of surrender, of course, were abandoned; the disappointed
bishop was dismissed to his equally disappointed master; and the English
forces, consisting of 6,000 archers, and a body of heavy-armed cavalry,
under Sir Walter Manny, a Flemish knight, one of the greatest captains
of the age, in Edward's service, landing, drove the besiegers back, and
entered the town amid the joyful acclamations of the inhabitants. The
delighted countess received her deliverers with every courtesy. She
admitted the knights and captains into her own castle, decorated with her
finest tapestry, and dined herself at table with them. The next day,
after dinner, Sir Walter Manny proposed to make a sally, and break down
the battering rams of the French. The challenge was enthusiastically
answered by all the knights and warriors present. They united and rushed
forth with 300 archers, charged the French furiously, took and broke to
pieces the engines of the siege, drove back the besiegers, and, following
up their advantage, fell on the camp, and set fire to it, killing many of
the enemy. The countess was so overjoyed at this signal triumph that, on
the return of Sir Walter to the city, she hastened to receive him, and,
says Froissart, kissed him and his companions twice or thrice, "like a
valiant lady."
The siege was raised, and the French removed the war to Lower Brittany.
Don Louis of Spain went along the coast attended by a strong force of
Spaniards and Genoese, and indulged his disposition for cruelty by
burning Guérande, and sacking the whole country as far as Quimperlé.
Sir Walter, informed of this, pursued Don Louis with all speed, taking
ship with 3,000 archers, and a sufficient proportion of men-at-arms. He
came up with him at Quimperlé, seized his fleet and all his booty in the
harbour, fell upon Don Louis's force, killed his brother Don Alphonso,
severely wounded Don Louis himself, who hurriedly escaped in a skiff, and
totally destroyed or dispersed his followers.
Brilliant as these actions were, the forces sent to support the countess
were far too inadequate to this object. Don Louis, smarting under this
defeat, had again joined Charles of Blois, and together they returned
to invest Hennebont, against which they reared sixteen engines of the
largest size, with which they dreadfully battered and shook the walls.
The undaunted countess, however, defended the ramparts with woolsacks,
and jeered the assailants by asking them why they did not bring up
their army from Quimperlé. Don Louis, against whom this was aimed,
burned for revenge, and endeavoured to obtain it in a most dastardly
and unknightly manner. Amongst the prisoners of Charles of Blois were
two gallant Englishmen, Sir John Butler and Sir Matthew Trelawny. These
brave men, out of spite to the English, who had so signally defeated
him, Don Louis demanded to be delivered up to him, that he might put
them to death in sight of the whole army and city. Charles, who revolted
at so dishonourable a proposal, refused; but on Don Louis declaring
that he would renounce the cause of Charles for ever, they were given
up Don Louis had them bound ready, and declared that after dinner he
would strike off their heads under the city walls. No persuasions of
his knights could divert him from his savage purpose. But Sir Walter
Manny hearing of it, made a sally, in which Sir Aimery of Clisson, a
Breton knight, attacking the French in front, and Sir Walter, issuing
from a private postern, and falling on the camp, found the two condemned
knights, and rescued them. The French were soon after compelled to raise
the siege, and concluded a truce with the countess till the following
May, 1343.
This interval the Countess of Montfort employed in a voyage to England,
soliciting fresh forces, which were despatched in forty-six vessels,
under Robert of Artois. The countess sailed with them; and off Guernsey
they encountered a French fleet of thirty-two ships, much larger and
better than the English ones, commanded by the redoubtable Don Louis of
Spain, and manned by 1,000 men-at-arms, and 3,000 Genoese crossbowmen.
The engagement was very fierce, the countess in full armour taking the
deck, and fighting sword in hand. The battle was interrupted by night,
accompanied by a terrible tempest. The English fleet, however, escaped
into Hennebont. Soon after landing they took Vannes by surprise, and then
they divided their forces; Sir Walter Manny and the countess defending
Hennebont, and the Earls of Salisbury and Pembroke attacked Rennes,
leaving Robert of Artois in Vannes. Here he was suddenly surrounded by
12,000 French troops under Oliver de Clisson and De Beaumanoir, who took
the city by storm. Robert of Artois narrowly escaped, but so severely
wounded that he took shipping for England, where he soon died. So
perished a man who more than any other had caused this bloody war. Edward
III. was so affected by his loss, for he was greatly attached to him,
that he vowed to avenge his death; and accordingly he crossed the sea to
Morbihan, near Vannes, with an army of 12,000 men, in October of that
year.
Edward marched to Rennes and Nantes, destroying the country as he went,
and laying siege to Vannes, Rennes, and Nantes all at once. By dividing
his forces he failed in all his attempts, for Charles of Blois had
obtained an army from the King of France of 40,000 men under the Duke
of Normandy. His eldest son Edward, on the approach of this formidable
force, entrenched himself before Vannes, and the Duke of Normandy sat
down at a short distance from him, and entrenched himself likewise in
his camp. Here the two forces lay for some weeks, neither venturing to
strike the first blow; and the Pope now stepped in by his legates, and
persuaded them to sign a truce for three years and eight months. Edward
having secured honourable terms for himself and allies, returned home.
But the truce was by no means observed by either side. The different
parties were become so exasperated against each other that they went
on fighting as though there were no truce at all. Philip of France was
bound by one of its conditions to liberate John de Montfort; but he still
kept him in prison, notwithstanding the remonstrances of the Pope, and
persevered in his attacks on Brittany, which the countess defended with
her accustomed spirit. Several knights of distinction were in treaty to
pass over to the side of De Montfort, and Philip making the discovery,
lured them to a grand tournament, and had their heads struck off in the
centre of the Halles, or market-place at Pons. Amongst these were the
brave knight Oliver de Clisson, already mentioned, John de Montauban
and many others there and in Normandy were as ruthlessly dealt with.
This perfidious and sanguinary conduct produced a feeling of horror
everywhere, and such of the Breton knights as had fought for Charles
of Blois went over to the Countess de Montfort. Foremost amongst the
malcontents thus created was Jane de Belville, the widow of the murdered
Oliver de Clisson, who became a determined enemy, and who, carrying
her son to the Countess de Montfort to be brought up with hers, became
indefatigable in her pursuit of vengeance on the French. It was a
remarkable circumstance that these wars produced three women, all named
Jane, the wives of Charles of Blois, of De Montfort, and of De Clisson,
who displayed the most extraordinary spirit, each rivalling the other in
their heroic actions.
This contempt of the truce roused the English nation to support the
king in the continuance of the war. The Parliament granted him liberal
supplies, and he sent over his near kinsman, the Earl of Derby, son
of the Earl of Lancaster, with an army to protect Guienne, and give
assistance to the Countess de Montfort. The Earl of Derby was a nobleman
of great ability and integrity of character, distinguished both for
humanity and bravery. He very soon placed Guienne in a posture of strong
defence, and then made a bold advance into the enemy's country. He
attacked and defeated the Count de l'Isle at Bergerac, reduced a great
part of Périgord, and took the strong castle of Auberoche in Gascony.
This castle was again attempted by De l'Isle, being left only with a weak
garrison; but a spy whom Derby had in the French camp apprised the earl
of its situation. He advanced into the neighbourhood with 1,000 cavalry,
and found the castle invested by 10,000 or 12,000 men. The earl had sent
to the Earl of Pembroke at Bergerac to meet him with a large force, but
he had not come up. To ordinary men the idea of attacking the French army
of 10,000 or more with his 1,000 would have appeared insane; but the earl
had with him the able commanders, Sir Walter Manny, Lord Ferrars, Sir
Richard Hastings, and others, and, taking advantage of a wood, they came
suddenly on the French camp as the soldiers were cooking their suppers.
Darting amongst them with loud shouts of "A Derby! a Derby!" the sudden
apparition of the enemy threw the whole French host into such confusion
that a total rout took place, and the Count de l'Isle, with nine earls
and viscounts, and nearly all the barons, knights, and squires of the
army were taken.
This terminated the campaign of Lord Derby for 1345; and the next year,
when he became Earl of Lancaster through the death of his father,
he pursued his victories, and took strong towns and fortresses. His
successes were favoured by the state of France at that time, where the
exhausted finances led Philip to debase the coin and lay a heavy impost
on salt, both of which circumstances excited great disaffection and
disorder in the kingdom. At length the Duke of Normandy, Philip's eldest
son, attended by the Duke of Burgundy and other powerful nobles, led a
large army to the frontiers of Guienne, and compelled Lancaster to stand
on the defensive, his forces being much inferior in number.
While these events were taking place, Edward III. was earnestly at work
at home, endeavouring to organise an efficient scheme for achieving
something more than the defence of Guienne or the aid of Brittany:
namely, his grand dream of the total conquest of France. His first
attempt was to secure the co-operation of his old friend Jacob van
Artevelde, the brewer of Ghent. He had the daring to propose that his
son, the Black Prince, should be offered to the people of Flanders in
lieu of their old Count, who had gone over to the French interest. But
this scheme cost the stout old Artevelde his life. No sooner was the
overture made than the burgesses took alarm at it, and lost their faith
in Van Artevelde as a patriot. Bruges and Ypres were brought over by
the promised advantages of trade with England, but his own town of Ghent
broke out into open insurrection. When he rode into the city, attended
by a body of Welsh, whom Edward had sent, he was received with the most
hostile looks and expressions. He hastened to his house, and endeavoured
by a speech from an upper window to appease the incensed people; but it
was in vain. They broke into his house, and murdered him on the spot
(July 9th, 1345). The man who had reigned like a king, on the strength
of his reputed patriotism, now fell by the hand of a saddler, and amid
the execrations of the mob, as a traitor. Hope of assistance was gone for
Edward in that quarter.
[Illustration: THE CHURCH OF ST. ETIENNE: CAEN.]
He was equally unfortunate in Hainault. His brother-in-law, the young
Count of Hainault, was killed also in a revolt of the Frieslanders; and
his uncle, the well-known John of Hainault, so long allied with England,
went over to the French on the plea that Edward had not duly estimated
or rewarded his services. About the same time, too, John de Montfort,
so long a captive in Paris, was liberated, but died of a fever before
Quimperlé. All hope appeared closed on the side of the Netherlands and of
Brittany; but a new light sprang up in an unexpected quarter, giving an
entirely new turn to his enterprise.
Sir Godfrey de Harcourt, Lord of Saint Sauveur, and brother of John,
Count of Harcourt, long in the service of England, had stood high in the
favour of Philip of France; but having offended him by resisting one of
his arbitrary acts, he had a narrow escape of sharing the fate of Oliver
de Clisson. He fled to England, and, like his predecessor, Robert of
Artois, he exerted all his talent to persuade the king to invade France
on the side of Normandy, Sir Godfrey's own country, and where, of course,
lay his forfeited estates. He represented to Edward that it was one of
the most fertile and beautiful provinces of France--abounded with wealth,
for it had not been the scene of war for two centuries; that the numerous
and opulent towns had scarcely any fortifications, and were now deserted
by the nobility and their vassals, who were with the Duke of Normandy in
Gascony. He reminded Edward that it was an ancient possession of England,
lay near the English coast, might be secured almost without a blow, and
would strike the French king dumb with consternation, for it would bring
his capital within easy reach of attack.
It is surprising that these facts had not presented themselves to Edward
before; but, once offered to his mind, he embraced them with avidity. He
assembled a fine army of 30,000 men, consisting of 4,000 men-at-arms,
10,000 archers, 10,000 Welsh infantry, and 6,000 Irish. Circumstances,
rather than his own wishes, had brought him to depend no longer on
mercenary and treacherous allies, but upon his own subjects; and from
this moment he began to perform those prodigies of arms which raised
the name of Englishmen above all others for steady and transcendent
valour. He set sail from Southampton in a fleet of near 1,000 sail of all
dimensions, carrying with him the principal nobility of the realm, and
his son, the Black Prince, now fifteen years of age. He landed his army
at La Hogue, on the coast of Normandy, and there divided it into three
bodies, one of which he placed under the command of the Earl of Warwick,
another under Sir Godfrey de Harcourt, whom he created marshal, and the
third under the Earl of Arundel, whom he made constable; he himself was
generalissimo, and before setting out on his march he knighted the Prince
of Wales and a number of the young nobility. He next caused the French
ships in La Hogue, Harfleur, and Cherbourg to be destroyed. This work was
committed to the English fleet, and the plunder of these seaports was
given up to those who manned it. Advancing into the country, Edward found
it almost wholly defenceless, as Harcourt had represented. Montebourg,
Carentan, St. Lo, Valognes, and other places in the Cotentin, were taken
and pillaged.
One of the king's objects was to create an alarm, and thus draw off the
French forces from Guienne; and in this he succeeded. The King of France,
startled by this unexpected invasion, hastened to assemble troops from
all quarters. He was soon at the head of a numerous army, which, from the
sounding titles of many of the allies and generals, appeared extremely
formidable. Amongst them were the Kings of Bohemia and Majorca, the
Emperor elect of Germany, the Duke of Lorraine, John of Hainault, and the
Count of Flanders. He despatched the Count of Eu, Constable of France,
and the Count of Tankerville to defend the populous and commercial city
of Caen; but they were speedily overthrown by Edward, who took the two
counts prisoners, and, entering the city, massacred the inhabitants
without distinction of age, sex, or rank. The scenes perpetrated in Caen
are frightful to record, and present a revolting picture of the savage
spirit of the age. The wretched people, driven to desperation, barricaded
their doors against the ruffianly invaders. They, in turn, set fire to
the houses, till Edward, at the earnest entreaty of Sir Godfrey Harcourt,
put a stop to the burning, but gave up the town to three days' pillage,
reserving for his own share the jewels, plate, silks, fine cloths, and
linen. These he shipped for England, with 300 of the richest citizens,
for whom he meant to demand heavy ransoms. Two cardinal legates, who had
come with the benevolent hope of negotiating a peace, beheld instead
this fearful butchery. The Church at this period was the only power
which endeavoured to bring to men's remembrance the benign influence of
Christianity, and, in exerting itself to check the spirit of military
carnage and devastation, certainly discharged its sublime duty well. As
for these martial monarchs, they seemed to forget in the fury of war all
compassion; and both Edward and his youthful son displayed a hard and
sanguinary disposition in their campaigns, in melancholy contrast with
the high professions of chivalrous courtesy.
Edward, having inflicted this terrible chastisement on Caen, then
advanced towards Rouen, intending to treat it the same; but on arriving
opposite to that city, he found the bridge of boats was taken away, and
Philip of Valois occupying the right bank of the Seine, with an army far
superior to his own. Edward then continued his march up the left bank
of the river towards Paris, destroying all the towns and country as he
went along. The French king marched along the right bank, breaking down
all the bridges, and taking every means to prevent his crossing. After
sacking Vernon and Mantes, the English king arrived at Poissy, within
nine miles of Paris. Here finding the bridge only partially destroyed,
he resorted to this stratagem in order to cross the Seine:--He still
ascended the river, as if intending to march on Paris; while his advanced
lines scoured the country up to its very gates, burning St. Germain,
St. Cloud, Bourg-la-Reine, Nanterre, and Neuilly. Having thus drawn the
French king to Paris, he suddenly made a reverse march, reached Poissy,
hastily repaired the bridge, and passed his troops over. Once across
the Seine, he proceeded by hasty marches towards the river Somme. His
vanguard, commanded by Harcourt, met with reinforcements proceeding
from Amiens to the king's camp, and defeated them with great slaughter.
Reaching Beauvais, he burnt its suburbs, and plundered Pois. As he
drew near the Somme, he found himself in the same difficulties as at
the Seine. All the bridges were destroyed, and he endeavoured, but
unsuccessfully, to pass at Pont St. Remi, Long, and Pequiny. He was now
fast being enclosed by the enemy. The Somme was a deep, and, so far as
they could find, impassable river; on its right bank showed a strong
force under Godemar de Faye, a powerful baron of Normandy, supported by
the gentlemen of Artois and Picardy. Approaching the sea, near Oisement,
he was thus cooped up between it and the Somme, with Philip and an army
of 100,000 men pressing on his rear. In this urgent extremity, the
marshals of the army were sent out to see whether they could not possibly
discover a ford, but in vain. Edward now appeared to be placed in a very
serious dilemma; but, assembling all the prisoners belonging to that part
of the country, he offered to any one who would point out a ford his own
liberty, and that of thirty of his companions.
On this, a peasant said, "Know, sir, that during the ebb-tide the Somme
is so low at a place which I can show you, that it may be passed either
by horse or foot with ease. The bottom is plain to see, for it is of
chalk, quite white, and so is called Blanchetaque, that is, white water."
On hearing this agreeable news, Edward ordered the trumpets to sound
at midnight, and set out from Oisement for the ford. There he arrived
some hours before the ebb, and was compelled to wait, seeing Godemar
de Faye ready with 12,000 men on the other side prepared to oppose his
passage, and every minute expecting the arrival of Philip. As soon as
the ford was passable he ordered the marshals to dash into the river,
and to drive back the enemy in the name of God and St. George! So great
was his impatience that he himself led the way, crying, "Let those who
love me follow me." The French forces met them half way, and valiantly
disputed the passage; but they were driven back. The English, however,
found the main body strongly posted on the right bank at a narrow pass,
through which they were compelled to force their way by hard fighting.
The Genoese crossbowmen here galled them severely with their arrows;
but the English archers replied so vigorously that they drove the enemy
from the ground and landed in safety. The passage was effected just in
time, for Philip came galloping up before the rear-guard had reached the
other side, and did some damage amongst them. But the tide was now too
high to permit him to follow; he therefore took his way up the river to
Abbeville, and crossed at the bridge there.
Meantime, Edward, having made this admirable passage, resolved to march
no farther. He had hoped to receive reinforcements promised him by
the repentant Flemings, but they did not appear, and he considered it
hazardous to attempt to cross the open plains of Picardy in the presence
of so preponderating a force, especially of French cavalry. He resolved
to make a stand. He selected a strong position in the forest of Cressy,
or Creçy, and near a village of that name. "Here," said he, "I am on the
rightful heritage of my lady-mother, upon the lands of Ponthieu, given
to her as her marriage dower. I now challenge them as my own; and may
God defend the right!" He took his station on a gentle ascent, having
in his rear a wood, where he placed all his baggage, and defended it
with an entrenchment. He also threw up entrenchments on his flanks to
secure them, and divided his army into three divisions. The first he put
under the command of Edward, the Prince of Wales, now in his sixteenth
year, to fight his first battle. Under him were the Earls of Warwick and
Oxford, Sir Godfrey Harcourt, the Lord Holland, and Sir John Chandos;
but the king confided the especial care of the prince to Sir John and
to the Earl of Warwick, who were to assist him by their counsel, and
defend him in difficulty. The second line was commanded by the Lords
Willoughby, Bassett, and others. The king himself took charge of the
third, to hold it in readiness to support either of the other two, or
secure their retreat, as circumstances might decide. The number of the
English army has been variously stated at from 10,000 to 30,000; but the
most authentic accounts state it to be about one-fourth of the French,
who were estimated at 120,000. The King of England, having made his
arrangements, ordered the troops to take up their ground on the spot
where they were to fight, and to await the next morning with confidence
of victory. The soldiers set about vigorously polishing their arms, and
repairing and burnishing their armour. They were well fed, and refreshed
by abundant wine and provisions, which had been seized in the port of
Crotoy. The king gave a supper to his barons in his tent, where he made
good cheer. When it was concluded he entered into the tent set apart as
an oratory, and, falling on his knees, prayed God to bring him "out of
the morrow with honour."
[Illustration: EDWARD THE BLACK PRINCE.]
The night was warm; and the soldiers, having well supped, slept on the
grass in their arms. With the early dawn the king and prince were up and
amongst their forces.
[Illustration: THE BLACK PRINCE AT THE BATTLE OF CRECY. (_See p._ 419.)]
Edward, mounted on a white palfrey, and attended on each hand by a
marshal, rode through the ranks, spoke to the different officers, and
exhorted the men to remember that they had that day to fight against
superior numbers, and must therefore do their best for the honour of
their country. He reminded them of the decided advantage which they had
hitherto shown over the enemy; and he had such an air of confidence and
cheerfulness that every one augured nothing but victory. Thus they sat,
each in his place, with his helm and bow before him, and so awaited the
foe. When they had thus continued till three in the afternoon, and no
enemy was yet come up, the king ordered that every man should eat and
take a little wine, which they did in great satisfaction.
Meantime, the King of France, having passed the night at Abbeville, set
out, reinforced by 1,000 lancers under Amadeus, Count of Savoy. He deemed
that he had nothing to do but to overtake the English army in order to
annihilate it. For weeks it seemed to have been flying before him, and by
hastily crossing the Seine and the Somme it had borne every appearance
of wishing, at all costs, to avoid a conflict. He therefore pushed on
hastily, and in great confusion. By the time that his advanced guard came
in sight of the English lines his forces were tired, and his rear-guard
far behind. A veteran Bohemian officer, being sent forward to reconnoitre
the English army, rode back to Philip, and strongly recommended him to
put off the battle till the next day. He assured him that the English
were fresh and well posted, and would undoubtedly make a desperate
defence. The French, depressed and exhausted by the haste of their march
from Abbeville, must fight at vast disadvantage.
The king commanded a halt; but the ill-disciplined troops still
pressed on, the van brandishing their swords, and crying, in their
over-confidence, "Attack, take, slay!" and those behind, hurrying
forward, declaring they would not stop till they were as forward as the
foremost. So they rushed on pell-mell. Froissart says no one, except he
had been present, could form any idea of the confusion of the scene.
Philip had divided his army into three divisions: the first commanded
by the King of Bohemia, supported by his son, Charles of Luxembourg,
Emperor-elect of Germany, and Charles, Duke of Alençon, the brother of
King Philip, a brave but haughty and rash youth. In this division were
15,000 Genoese crossbowmen, headed by Anthony Doria and Carolo Grimaldi.
These bowmen were looked upon as the great strength of the army--an
overmatch for the English archers, whom they were quickly to drive from
the field. They were backed by 20,000 infantry. The second division was
led by Philip himself, consisting of 6,000 men-at-arms and 40,000 foot.
The broad banner of France was displayed before the king, and at his side
rode the titular King of Majorca. The rear division followed, conducted
by the Count of Savoy, with 5,000 lances and 20,000 foot. The last was
most formidable in numbers; but all superiority was lost in the disorder
of the march. The kings and dukes and great lords were hurried along,
without power to exert any command, and Philip himself, in striving to
enforce a halt, was borne onward as by a torrent. Finding himself face to
face with the enemy, he cried, "Bring up the Genoese; begin the battle,
in the name of God and St. Denis!"
But these Italians, who were brave and famous men, very reasonably
complained of thus being hurried into battle, worn out as they were with
carrying their heavy crossbows in the hasty march of six leagues, and
said they had more need of rest than to fight that day. On hearing this,
the Duke of Alençon cried out, "See! that is the help we get by employing
these fellows, who thus fail us at the pinch." The sensitive Italians
heard these words with deep anger, and moved on to battle. At this moment
the heavens seemed to announce that a great and terrible conflict was
about to take place. A thunderstorm, making it almost as dark as night,
burst over the opposing hosts, and before it went a flight of crows and
ravens, sweeping over the armies. When the sun broke out again it flashed
in the faces of the Genoese, and the strings of their crossbows had
become relaxed with the wet. On the other hand, the sun was on the backs
of the English, and they had kept their longbows dry in their cases. They
were drawn up by the king in ranks, crossed in the manner of a _herse_,
or harrow, so that the discharges of the different ranks might support
each other, like the discharges of combined squares of musketry in these
times. No sooner, therefore, did the Genoese crossbowmen, after giving
three leaps and three loud shouts to intimidate the English, let fly
a shower of arrows, than the English archers stepped each of them one
pace forward, and shot their arrows so thickly that, as the chronicler
describes it, it seemed to snow. The Genoese, confounded by the perpetual
hail of the English arrows, which pierced their armour, fell back on the
men-at-arms, and the confusion then became fearful. The Genoese cut their
bowstrings or threw away their bows, and endeavoured to make their escape
amongst the horses of the cavalry. The King of France, seeing this, cried
out, "Slay me these cowards, for they stop our way, without doing any
good!" The men-at-arms advanced at full gallop right over the wretched
Genoese, cutting them down right and left, and numbers were trodden under
foot; while the cavalry itself was thrown into disorder by thus riding
over their own bowmen to come at the enemy.
All this time the English archers kept pouring in their deadly shafts,
dropping the knights and soldiers of Alençon's fine cavalry rapidly from
their saddles; while the Cornish men and Welsh, armed with large knives,
stole amongst the ranks and despatched those knights as they lay.
Edward had given strict orders to take no prisoners, because the enemy
was so much more numerous, that it would encumber his fighting men, and
keep them from the battle in looking after their captives.
In spite of the confusion, the Duke of Alençon and the Count of
Flanders broke at length through it, and, charging past the line of
English archers, took the cavalry of the Prince of Wales in flank. Both
sides now fought desperately; but the English men-at-arms handled the
French cavalry so roughly that the greater part of them were slain.
Notwithstanding, three other squadrons of French and Germans, rushing
forward impetuously, broke through the archers, and pushed their way
into the very place where the young prince was performing prodigies of
valour. The second division, under the Earls of Arundel and Northampton,
advanced to support the prince, and the contest became furious. Alençon
displayed the most fiery courage, and, amid a crowd of French, Germans,
Savoyards, and Bohemians, pressed upon the prince with a vigour which
threatened to carry all before it. The French king, eager to support
Alençon, charged nobly on the archers, but could not penetrate their
line, or the event might have been doubtful. The Earl of Warwick, alarmed
by the dangerous position of the prince, despatched Sir Thomas Norwich to
Edward, entreating him to send aid to his son.
Edward, who was watching the progress of the battle from a windmill on
the hill-top, demanded of the messenger whether the prince were dead,
wounded, or felled to the ground. "Not so, thank God," answered the
messenger; "but he needs assistance." "Nay, then," said the king, "he has
no aid from me. Tell him from me that I know he will bear him like a man,
and show himself worthy of the knighthood I have so lately conferred on
him. In this battle he must win his own spurs."
This being reported to the prince, gave new courage and strength to both
him and his attendants. The force thrown in by Arundel and Northampton
bore down the enemy slew the gallant Alençon, and dispersed his
battalions; the Welsh, with their long knives, destroying all left alive
on the ground.
The King of France, still struggling to come up to the rescue of his
brother, arrived only to find him killed and his forces scattered. The
flying cavalry communicated their panic to the king's own followers;
but the king himself scorned to fly, and fought most bravely. His horse
was killed under him; he mounted another, and still fought on till only
about sixty of his bravest attendants remained around him. Repeatedly
wounded, he would probably have lost his life; but John of Hainault,
having in vain urged him to quit the field, forcibly seized the bridle
of his horse, and led him away. The whole French army was in flight, the
English pursuing, and putting to the sword without mercy all whom they
could reach.
The King of France rode away till he came to the castle of Broye, where,
summoning the warder to open the gates, that officer demanded who was
there, for it was a dark night. "It is the fortune of France," said the
king, probably in bitter recollection of the flatteries which had styled
him "the Fortunate." On entering, the king had only five of his barons
with him. They refreshed themselves with wine, and then continued their
flight, with the help of guides, to Amiens.
Such was the memorable battle of Creçy, one of the greatest and most
surprising victories which ever was gained by any king. It was fought on
Saturday, the 26th of August, 1346. On that fatal field lay slain two
kings, eleven great princes, eighty bannerets, 1,200 knights, and 30,000
men. It began after three o'clock in the afternoon, and continued till
darkness ended the conflict.
Amongst the chief men killed, besides the Duke of Alençon, were the
Dukes of Lorraine and Bourbon, the Counts of Blois, Vaudemont, Aumale,
and Philip's old ally, the Earl of Flanders. Of the two slain Kings of
Majorca and Bohemia, the death of John of Bohemia was very remarkable. He
was old, and nearly blind. When all seemed lost, inquiring after his son,
and hearing that he was wounded and compelled to fly, and that the Black
Prince showed himself irresistible, he said, "Sirs, ye are my knights
and good liegemen; will ye conduct me so far into the battle that I may
strike one good stroke with my sword?" His faithful knights regarding
these as the words of sad despair, four of them agreed to sacrifice their
lives with him, and tying his bridle rein on each side to their own, they
thus charged into the thickest of the fight, and were found the next day
lying dead together, the reins of their horses still unsevered.
The rejoicing on the part of the English may be imagined. The soldiers
lit up huge fires and torches to disperse the darkness, and by that
light King Edward descended from his eminence, and, taking his valiant
son in his arms before the whole army, he kissed him, and, according to
Froissart, said, "Sweet son, God gave you good perseverance. You are my
true son, for valiantly have you acquitted yourself to-day, and shown
yourself worthy of a crown." The prince bowed lowly, and declared that
the victory was owing to the king.
The next day it proved foggy, and the king sending out a detachment of
500 lancers and 2,000 archers to scour the fields and discover whether
any bodies of French were yet keeping their ground, they met with two
numerous detachments hastening to the assistance of the King of France,
one of them headed by the Archbishop of Rouen and Grand Prior of France.
They were coming from Beauvais and Rouen, and made a vigorous resistance;
but were all cut to pieces, in accordance with the barbarous policy of
Edward on that occasion. Some historians have asserted that the English
raised a number of French standards, which they took, on an eminence;
which thus attracting stragglers of the French army, they were butchered
as they arrived. These are blots on the glory of that famous victory
which it is painful to record.
The king sent out the Lords Cobham and Suffolk, with attendant heralds,
to recognise the arms, and secretaries to write down the names of the
fallen, and they returned an account of the numbers we have given; but of
the English only three knights, one esquire, and a few of inferior rank.
Edward having attended mass on Sunday, and returned solemn thanks to
Heaven for this great victory, on the Monday morning ordered the bodies
of the kings, nobles, and knights to be borne to the monastery of
Montenay for burial, and proclaimed three days' truce, that the people
of the country might come in and bury their dead. Having discharged
this duty, he marched north, taking the way by the coast, through
Montreuil-sur-mer, towards Calais, which he had resolved to take
possession of, as a secure and necessary entrance into the kingdom of
France for the prosecution of his grand design on it.