So ended the feud between St. Aliquis and Foretvert--a less
exhausting and more decisive baronial war than were many, and causing
correspondingly less misery to the helpless peasants. But it has also
been Conon's fortune to fight in a really great battle, one that will
hereafter be set down among the most famous engagements in the annals
of France.
It is a sunny afternoon. Young François and Anseau have wearied of
hunting frogs beside the outer moat. Under the garden trees, Sire
Eustace, tough old warrior, is meditating over a pot of hippocras.
They demand of him once more the story of "the battle." For them there
is only one battle--Bouvines. The seneschal, ever the slave of his
youthful masters, after suitable urgings, begins.
"Now you must know, my fair damoisieux, that all this took place six
years since, in the year 1214, upon the seven-and-twentieth day of
July. For our sins it was extremely hot that season, so that all of
us have, I trust, obtained some remission from purgatory. God grant
that next time we have a great battle it be in the pleasant spring or
autumn, though otherwise the saints showed to us French a great mercy.
But now to commence.
"That year King John of England, having, by his evil rule and folly
lost nearly all his Anjou and Norman lands to our good King Philip,
sent large money and skillful ambassadors into Flanders and Germany
to stir up trouble. The great counts of Flanders and Boulogne nursed
grievances against their liege lord our king, and to them joined many
other seigneurs of those parts, notably the Dukes of Brabant and
Limburg, the Count of Holland, and chiefest of all the German Emperor
Otto IV himself, who came with a huge levy of Saxons. With those rode
the English Earl of Salisbury with a great band of Flemish mercenaries
who took King John's ill-gained penny. Never since Duke Charles Martel
smote back the Paynym had so terrible a host menaced our gentle France;
and when at last, in July, the whole array under Emperor Otto came
together at Valenciennes to take the road to Paris, even brave knights
trembled for the king and kingdom.
"Never had the call for the royal ban and rear ban gone out more
urgently than that summer. The king's messenger came to St. Aliquis
with the 'brief of summons' bidding Messire Conon ride with every man
and lad that could stride a horse or trudge with a spear; and so went
the command through all North France. But in the south country John was
making a formidable diversion from his remaining dominions in Gascony,
and we of the Languedoil lands had to meet the northern shock alone.
"When Messire your Father received the summons, there was even greater
furbishing than when old Foretvert defied us. Sire Conon had in the
abbot and wrote his last wishes, arranged that if he fell he should
be buried in the abbey church by the altar where St. Bernard had once
said mass, and he left to the monks five hundred livres in return for
perpetual masses for his soul. The remainder of us made vows according
to ability. I say nothing of the parting, or how your mother bravely
promised to guard the castle.
[Sidenote: Mobilization of Feudal Army]
"So the ban was answered all through the land, and the king's great
host came together. Never again shall I see so fine a mustering of
knights as gathered at Peronne. It far surpassed any tournament. Every
hour the banners came in, to the sound of tabors, horns, and drums.
There was an enormous baggage train, so that I believe there were more
mules than horses, for many barons brought their great tents, with many
coffers of extra arms and fine clothing. In the rear were gathered a
second array of jongleurs, peddlers and very evil women, whom not all
the commands of the king, somehow, could disperse. Verily in that army
there were twice as many mouths to fill as there were men to fight;
likewise, short as was the campaign, there was much sickness, thanks to
bad food, bad water, and, so certain even averred, to overmuch filth.
The comfort was that in Otto's camp matters were, if anything, much
worse.
"In any case those tumultuous days of assemblage were soon at an end.
Tidings came that the Germans and Flemings were advancing, and on the
twenty-fifth of July we marched into Tournai on the edge of Flanders.
Messire Conon, who was at the royal council-tent, told me that the
king's barons debated as to the purpose of the enemy. Would he offer
fair battle in the plain near Cambrai, as we much desired, or would
he strive to slip past our army and go straight toward Paris? I have
been told of books concerning the ancient Roman captains, Julius
Cæsar and his peers, and it would seem as if to them the moving of
armies had been a business of deep sagacity, advancing your columns by
careful rules, somewhat as you move your men on a gaming board. No one,
however, is so sage as that to-day, and I think it was either mere
fortune or (speaking as a Christian) the kind St. Denis, who guards our
beautiful France, that brought the hosts together when and where they
presently came.
"It was at break of day on that seven-and-twentieth of July that we
quitted Tournai, intending to pass the little river Marque, to get to
the town of Bouvines and thereby to be covered by certain marshes so
we might be protected from surprise, and yet be able to strike the
foe's rear if he should take the road to Paris. But Otto and his lords,
swollen with their German and Fleming pride and confident in their
great host of infantry, were determined to attack, and so kept hard
after us. It is only nine miles from Tournai to Bouvines, but our long
trains of baggage crawled along like snails. Therefore it was almost
noon when the sumpter mules and the infantry had crossed the bridge.
We of the cavalry were still on the nearer side, covering the march,
when our scouts came racing in. 'The Germans! The Germans!' And there
assuredly, over the rolling slopes of the cornfields beyond Bouvines,
we saw the long lines of horsemen flying in a great dust cloud.
"Now there was with the king the Bishop Garin of Senlis. He was an old
knight hospitaler, one of those holy brethren who, despite churchly
vows, rejoice to fight in just causes, and Bishop Garin at once clapped
spurs to his destrer to reconnoiter. Soon he dashed back, having
discovered quite enough. He found our Lord Philip sitting under an
ash tree close to the bridge eating dinner, with many great nobles,
Messire Conon among them, sitting on the grass. 'Tidings, fair Sire!'
cried Garin. 'The Germans will fight. Their knights are in panoply, and
behind them march the infantry!'
[Sidenote: Battle Array at Bouvines]
"It was no pleasant moment for the king. His own infantry were beyond
the river, but his cavalry were on this side. He could not get his
horsemen across the single bridge without grievous loss; but there was,
perchance, still time to bring back the foot. Therefore, with what
speed we might, every man of us fell into the array, and some brave
sergeants of Champagne made such charges upon Otto's vanguard that,
though outnumbered and pressed back, they delayed the foe until our
men could take their places and present a gallant front. As for the
attackers, when they saw that we were ready to do battle, like prudent
men they halted and arrayed their own lines. So for an hour both sides
waited, just out of bowshot, many of us very nervous and cursing the
delay--the more as the sun beat down pitilessly--although the more
pious confessed hastily to the priests, who were always moving up and
down the files, or at least we said our _mea culpas_ for our sins.
"Presently you could see the whole array of the enemy spread out like
some fair picture on a long tapestry. On their right, facing our
Counts of Ponthieu and Dreux, were the mercenaries under Salisbury,
and the men of that foul traitor Boulogne. On their left were the long
lines of Flemish horsemen over against our cavaliers of Champagne and
Burgundy. But we from Quelqueparte, with so many other companies, were
in the center battle where flew King Philip's great oriflamme, a mighty
scarlet banner of samite, surrounded by chosen cavaliers. We horsemen
were in the rear. In front of us spread the French footmen--the
burgher levies of the towns who answered the king's summons. 'Shame
that burghers should stand before knights!' cried some of us; but the
King and Bishop Garin, who seemed to know everything, understood their
business, as you will see.
"It is told that just before the hosts charged King Philip prayed
aloud before his bodyguard: 'Lord, I am but a man, but I am also a
king. Thine it is to guard the king. Thou wilt lose nothing thereby.
Wherever thou wouldst go, I will follow thee!' Also I heard that close
behind the king there stood, as long as he might, the royal chaplain,
William the Breton, who all through the battle, with another clerk,
kept singing psalms such as 'Blessed be the Lord my strength, who
teacheth my hands to war and my fingers to fight.' But Bishop Garin
sang no psalms. Up and down the lines of horsemen he rode, thundering:
'Extend yourselves, lest the enemy outflank you. One knight should not
make another his shield!' So he put all our knights in the first line
of the cavalry. In the rear lines he put the mounted sergeants. We had
perhaps two thousand knights and five thousand sergeants. Our infantry
were over five-and-twenty thousand, but the foe had even more footmen
than we, though their horse was a little inferior. Thus the battle was
very fair, two lines of men and horses a mile and a half long, and the
fields smooth and open enough for a jousting. There never was better
place for an honorable battle.
"After we had sat in our saddles a long time, thinking of our sins
and admiring in a fearsome way the splendor of the great press of
the foe opposite, a party of our sergeants suddenly charged out on
our right against the Flemings. Their attack was too weak, and the
Flemings drove them back and charged in return, their leaders crying,
'Think on your ladies!' as if in a courteous mêlée. Whereat, nothing
loath, our Burgundian and Champagnois knights dashed out on them, and
long engaged in an uncertain battle, every cavalier selecting a foe
and riding against him. Here one side prevailed and here another, and
some warriors even dropped to the rear to recover breath and tighten
harness, then spurred back to the charge. For a little while we of the
center watched them thus; then nearer things engrossed us.
[Sidenote: Defeat of the French Infantry]
"I have told you that King Philip and his footmen, as well as many of
our knights, held the center battle. Facing them was the dense array of
Flemish and German infantry, with Emperor Otto himself, accompanied by
chosen horsemen, in their rear, and we could see in the middle press
the great imperial banner, a silken dragon, white and green, raised
upon a pole capped with a golden eagle. It was not borne by a cavalier
but flew from a tall car drawn by four horses. As we gazed at this vast
hostile array, lo! the whole mass seemed surging forward against our
infantry. Never was there a sight like it, spear points, hauberks, and
helmets all flashing in the sun. The ground shook with the trample of
thousands of feet. Countless war horns sounded, and we heard the deep
'_Hoch! Hoch!_' of the German infantry coming down on us like thunder.
"Then the emperor's great masses struck our footmen from the communes.
Doubtless our poor knaves meant bravely, and always had plenty of
courage when defending their walls, but never would France and King
Philip have been saved by townsmen. Soon we saw all those base-born
infantry breaking toward the rear, and for a moment our skies looked
black. But, 'Open the ranks,' called Messire Conon and our other
leaders, 'and let the villeins run through.' So we opened the lines
in the cavalry and let these timid friends escape. Then came a last
tightening of buckles and pushing down of helms. Right before us,
thousands upon thousands, were surging the emperor's infantry. All
together we raised the glad '_Montjoie St. Denis!_'[75] the royal
battle cry of France. Whereupon followed such a coursing as never in
all my life I can hope again to see. With our eyes on Otto's great
banner, straight into that press of Germans and Flemings we French
cavaliers rode like mad, the knights in front and all the squires and
good sergeants raging behind us. The horses knew their hour. They flew
at speed with no touch of spur. Though I am blessed with all the joys
of paradise, never, after ten thousand years of bliss, shall I forget
the wondrous rapture I felt when we struck that hostile line!"
(Sire Eustace's eyes are gleaming now like sparks of fire. François and
Anseau are hardly breathing as he speaks).
[Sidenote: Charge of the French Knights]
"Through that caitiff infantry we went as a hot knife cleaves through
cheese. I had the St. Aliquis banner, and kept close behind Messire
Conon with all our men hallooing and smiting behind. _Hé!_ what chance
had those villein footmen against _gentle_ Frenchmen, who all had known
horses and lance since they ceased from mother's milk? So one and all
we charged, and, like castles rising out of the plain, soon you could
see here, there, and yonder the banners and squadrons of our cavaliers
on their tall horses, looming above the snarling, striking footmen, who
closed in all around them, and yet could not keep our knights from
charging forward, always forward.
"After that, all the battle was broken up. For when Emperor Otto and
his knights saw their infantry being cut down like sheep, they also
charged, giving us the honest joy of crossing swords with men of
nobility. So for a long time it was horse to horse and man to man. You
have heard the jongleurs tell of the great deeds done. But as for us
of St. Aliquis, just as we were close to hewing our way clear through
the whole German line, lo! a great shouting rose on our left--"The
King! The King!" And we saw the royal standard being tossed up and
down, as in distress, by Sire Wado de Montigny, who bore it. Then back
we charged, with many cavaliers more--just in time. For King Philip,
while attacking gallantly like any other knight, had been separated
from most of his friends, and a swarm of knavish Flemish pikemen had
striven to drag him from his horse. His good armor turned their pikes,
yet a soldier caught the hook of a halberd in the chain mail round his
throat and pulled him to the ground. But the king sprang up as briskly
as a young squire, and all the French knights at hand spurred to his
aid. Then it was that Sire Peter Tristen leaped from his own horse and
mounted his lord upon it; and Messire Conon, being among the very first
to ride up and scatter or trample the Flemings, later received no small
praise and thanks.
"Therefore, in that part of the field God prospered us; and then came
the signal mercy when Emperor Otto fled the field. For as our knights
charged and his cavaliers gave way, our men slew Otto's horse, and when
he fell they almost seized the emperor. However, his Saxons, selling
their lives right dearly, got him another horse. But herein was the
German emperor different from our good French king. For when Philip was
remounted again he raised once more his clear '_Montjoie St. Denis!_'
and pressed the charge; but Otto (nigh out of his wits, perhaps, and
somewhat wounded) fled from the field with only three knights, leaving
his great banner and all his brave vassals to their fate; and they say
he never drew rein till he reached Valenciennes.
[Sidenote: Rout of the Germans and Flemings]
"The German knights, though deserted, still fought bravely, but the
Netherlanders and Flemings soon were fleeing in droves. Besides, on the
two wings of the conflict we Frenchmen were already proving victorious
and from right and left our knights were charging in to help the
center, cutting their way so far to the rear that when at last the
German cavaliers knew that all was lost, and now began to flee, they
often found themselves surrounded and were pulled from their horses and
so made captive.
"Thus ended the day's work, save on the right wing of the enemy. Here
had fought the great rebel Reginald of Boulogne, who knew there was
naught left for him save victory or ruin. He formed some seven hundred
Brabantine infantry into a circle. With their pikes and axes they beat
off for long the charges of our cavaliers. From behind this living
wall Boulogne, with a few brave knights, time and again charged out,
performing high deeds of valor, and then, as it were, retreating into
their fortress to get breath. But now that the remainder of the field
was cleared, King Philip brought up his whole power of cavalry. He
formed three thousand of us into three great columns of mounted men
and, charging in on every side, by sheer weight we broke the Brabantine
circle down. So we dragged the Count of Boulogne from his horse,
fighting to the last, and the king holds him close prisoner unto this
day.
"This was the last mêlée of a battle the like whereof has not been in
France these many years. Of course, the slaughter of the footmen was
great, some thousands of both ours and theirs. The field was a sorry
sight that evening and the groans of the dying rang in my ears, for
all that we were so happy. But it pleased the saints that, thanks to
good armor, we cavaliers got off quite safely. I have heard that 'only
three French knights were slain,' although I am sure that number is
too few. Of the Germans and Flemings they say one hundred and seventy
knights were killed outright; but better still, we took five German
counts, twenty-five barons, and some hundred and six lesser knights
as prisoners. It was the ransom of that Baron of Imgerfels whom we
unhorsed which presently went far to pay for your aunt's wedding and
uncle's knighting.
"As for the manner in which we all returned to Paris joyous as the
angels, and how the church bells rang and all the fat burghers hung
the streets with tapestry, and with the clergy and scholars in
the university we had seven days of illuminations, feastings, and
rejoicings, which is a story repeated every day. But there will never
be another Bouvines."
So spoke the seneschal. If we would comment on his narrative, we would
say that Philip manifestly conquered because his very unepiscopal
chief of staff, Bishop Garin, drew up his army with greater skill than
Otto's leaders arranged the German-Fleming host, and also because when
at last the hosts engaged in a series of innumerable duels, the French
knights on the average proved superior. King Philip, after the fight
was started, showed himself a valiant cavalier personally, but hardly
figured as a commander. Otto contributed to shake the morale of his
men by premature flight, but his great host of footmen were almost
worthless, despite their pikes and halberds, against the terrific shock
of the French cavalry, charging on perfectly smooth ground, where
mailed horsemen could fight at their best. Missile weapons played no
part. When the English yew bow shall appear, the situation may change.
Till then the mounted knight, in all his ponderous armor, charging with
lance at rest or with his great sword dancing in his hands, will appear
as the monarch of the battlefields. Bouvines has marked the apogée of
the feudal cavalry.
[Illustration: LISTENING TO A TROUVÈRE IN A CHÂTEAU OF THE THIRTEENTH
CENTURY
When a trouvère stopped in a château, the lord, his family, and his
people assembled in the great hall; the trouvère recited some long
poem, accompanying himself on a musical instrument, assisted by
jugglers who entertained the audience while the poet rested.]
FOOTNOTES:
[75] This famous battle cry of French royalty probably meant "_Follow
the banner of St. Denis!_" Its exact origin, however is obscure.
In feudal battles, armies often used merely the names of their leaders,
"_Burgundy!_" "_Coucy!_" "_Bourbon!_" etc. But many regions had a
special war cry. Thus the Normans cried "_Dex ais!_" the Bretons,
"_Malo! Malo!_" the Angevins "_Valée!_" Imperialists were likely to cry
"_Rome!_" and Crusaders "_Holy Sepulcher!_" To "cry one's ensign" was a
great object in all mediæval battles.