HOW CALAIS WAS SAVED
At the time when Aymery de Pavie unworthily figured as governor of the
town and castle of Calais, Geoffrey de Chargny, a French knight of high
distinction, was stationed at St. Omer by Philip of Valois to defend
the frontier against the English.
Now, it occurred, not altogether unnaturally, to Geoffrey de Chargny,
that, as the Lombards are by nature avaricious, Aymery de Pavie might,
with a little art, be bribed to surrender Calais; and when, albeit
it was a time of truce, he, without scruple, made the experiment,
he succeeded so well in his negociations that the Lombard executed
a secret treaty, whereby, proving false to the King of England, he
covenanted to deliver the stronghold into the French knight's hands, on
condition of receiving, as a reward for his perfidy, the sum of twenty
thousand crowns.
So far the project seemed to prosper; and, even after Aymery de Pavie
returned from England, all went so smoothly that De Chargny considered
that he had reason to congratulate himself on his skill, and to
entertain no doubt of final success. In fact, the Lombard appeared all
anxiety to bring the business to a successful issue, and appointed the
last day of the year for fulfilling the treaty.
Everything having been thus arranged, at the close of December,
Geoffrey de Chargny, dreaming sanguinely of the elevation to which he
believed his exploit was to raise him in the eyes of his countrymen and
his country's foes, left St. Omer at the head of a formidable force,
and, accompanied by Sir Odoart de Renty, Sir Eustace de Ribeaumont, and
many other knights of fame, marched towards Calais, and, halting near
the bridge of Nieullet just as the old year was expiring, sent forward
two squires, on whose sagacity he relied, to confer with the Lombard,
and ascertain how matters stood.
"Is it time for Sir Geoffrey to advance?" asked the squires.
"It is," was the answer; and, after this brief conference, the squires
hastened back to intimate to their leader that the hour for his grand
achievement was come.
On hearing what was the answer of the Lombard, De Chargny lost no time.
At once he gave orders to advance; and, leaving a strong force of horse
and foot to keep the bridge of Nieullet, and posting the crossbowmen
whom he had brought from St. Omer and Aire in the plain between the
bridge and the town, he sent forward Odoart de Renty, with a hundred
men-at-arms, and a bag containing the twenty thousand crowns, to take
possession of the castle, and marched forward cautiously, with his
banner displayed, to the gate that leads from Calais to Boulogne.
Meanwhile, onward hastened Odoart de Renty; and no sooner did he
and his men-at-arms reach the castle than Aymery de Pavie let down
the drawbridge, and opened one of the gates to admit them. Without
hesitation they entered, and Odoart handed over the bag containing the
crowns.
"I suppose they are all here?" said the Lombard, flinging the bag into
a room which he locked; "but to count them I have not now time. We must
not lose a moment, for presently it will be day. To make matters safe,
I will conduct you at once to the great tower, so that you may make
yourself master of the castle."
While speaking, Aymery de Pavie advanced in the direction of the great
tower of the castle; and, as he pushed back the bolt, the door flew
open; but, as Sir Odoart and his comrades found to their horror, it
was not to admit them. In fact, the shout that arose from hundreds of
voices immediately convinced the French that the business was not to
terminate so satisfactorily as they had anticipated, and they began to
comprehend that there was a lion in the way.
Nor is it difficult to account for such having been the case. From
the day of his return to Calais, Aymery de Pavie, as if to atone for
his perfidy, had maintained the promise he had given to the King of
England; and Edward was no sooner informed of the night on which,
according to the secret treaty, Calais was to be surrendered to the
French, than he prepared to go thither. Taking with him three hundred
men-at-arms and six hundred archers, he embarked at Dover with the
Prince of Wales and Sir Walter Manny; and, having landed at Calais
so privately that hardly a being in the town knew of his arrival, he
placed his men in ambuscade in the rooms and towers of the castle.
"Walter," said the king, addressing the brave Manny, "it is my pleasure
that you act as the chief of this enterprise, and I and my son will
fight, as simple knights, under your banner."
Now the King of England, attended by his son and Sir Walter Manny,
posted himself, with two hundred lances, in the great tower to which
the Lombard led the French, and no sooner was the door thrown open
than they raised the shout of "Manny! Manny to the rescue!" and rushed
upon the intruders. Resistance being quite vain, Sir Odoart and his
companions yielded themselves prisoners, while the king turned to his
son--
"What!" said he scornfully, "do the French dream of conquering Calais
with such a handful of men? Now let us mount our horses, form in order
of battle, and complete our work."
It was scarcely yet daybreak; and the morning of the 1st of January was
intensely cold, as Geoffrey de Chargny, seated on horseback, with his
banner displayed and his friends around him, waited patiently at the
Boulogne gate to enter and seize Calais.
"By my faith, gentlemen!" said he angrily, "if this Lombard delays much
longer opening the gate, we shall all die of cold."
"True," said another knight; "but, in God's name, let us be patient.
These Lombards are a suspicious sort of people, and perhaps he is
examining your florins to see if there are any bad ones, and to satisfy
himself that they are right in number."
At this moment an unexpected spectacle presented itself. The gate
suddenly opened, trumpets loudly sounded, and from the town sallied
horseman after horseman, armed with sword and battle-axe, and shouting
loudly, "St. George for England!" and "Manny to the onslaught!"
"By Heavens!" cried the French in amazement, as many turned to beat a
retreat, "we are betrayed!"
"Gentlemen," cried De Chargny, "do not fly; if we fly we lose all."
"By St. George!" shouted the English, who were now close enough to
hear, "you speak truth. Evil befall him who thinks of flying!"
"You hear, gentlemen?" said De Chargny. "It will be more advantageous
to us to fight valiantly, and the day may be ours."
And as he spoke, the French, at his orders, retreating a little, and
dismounting, drove their horses away from them that they might not be
trampled on, and formed in close order, with their pikes shortened and
planted before them.
On seeing this movement on the part of the French, King Edward halted
the banner under which he was, and dismounting, as did the prince,
prepared to attack on foot.
"I would have our men drawn up here in order of battle," said he to Sir
Walter Manny, "and let a good detachment be sent towards the bridge of
Nieullet; for I believe a large body of French to be posted there."
And, the king's orders being passed on without delay, six banners and
three hundred archers left the force and made for the bridge.
And now came the tug of war. Advancing with his men on foot, and his
son by his side, the king assaulted his foes battle-axe in hand; and
sharp and fierce was the encounter as English and French mingled hand
to hand and steel to steel. Many were the brave deeds performed in the
grey morning, and on both sides the warriors fought with high courage.
But, of all the combatants, none displayed more valour and dexterity
than the king himself. Fighting incognito under the banner of Manny,
and singling out Eustace de Ribeaumont, he maintained with that strong
and hardy knight a desperate conflict. Long they fought, the English
king with his battle-axe, the French champion with his mighty sword.
Twice the king was beaten to his knee, and twice he sprang to his feet
to renew the combat. Even after having been separated in the confusion
of the battle, they contrived again to meet, and again to close in a
fierce and resolute conflict.
But, meanwhile, fortune had gone so decidedly against the French
that all their hopes vanished. Many were slain. Geoffrey de Chargny
and others were taken prisoners; and, when Sir Eustace paused for an
instant to look round, he perceived that he stood almost alone amid a
host of foes.
"Yield!" said the king. "You are vanquished, and have done all that a
brave man could."
"It is true, sir knight," said Sir Eustace, surrendering his sword.
"I see that the honour of the day belongs to the English, and I yield
myself your prisoner."
While this struggle was taking place at the Boulogne gate, a fierce
fight went on at the bridge of Nieullet. In fact, the party of English
detached by the king having first attacked the crossbowmen, drove
them from the ground with such force that many of them were drowned
in the river, and then rushed on the defenders of the bridge. But the
knights of Picardy, who kept the bridge, were less easily dealt with
than the crossbowmen; and, for a time, they maintained their post with
determination, and performed so many gallant actions as to move the
envy of their assailants. Their courage, however, was vain; and at
length, hard pressed by the English, they mounted their horses, and,
pursued by their foes, fled fast away.
It was now broad day, and King Edward, still maintaining his incognito,
returned to the castle of Calais, and gave orders that the prisoners
taken in the battle should be brought into his presence. Much marvelled
the French knights to find that the King of England was among them in
person, and much diverted were the English at the amazement expressed
by their vanquished adversaries.
"Gentlemen," said the king, raising his hand for silence, "this being
New Year's Day, I purpose in the evening to entertain you all at
supper, and I hope you will all do honour to the occasion, and make
good cheer."
"Sire," said the French knights, bowing low, "you are a noble prince,
who know how to honour your enemies as well as your friends."
Accordingly, when the hour for supper arrived, the tables were spread
in the castle hall; and the king, bareheaded, but wearing, by way
of ornament, a rich chaplet of pearls, seated himself at table, and
gathered the captive Frenchmen around him; while the Prince of Wales
and the knights of England served up the first course, and waited on
the guests.
But this was not all. When supper was over, and when the tables were
drawn, the king remained in the hall, and conversed with the prisoners,
each in turn, and, while marking his sense of the unfair conduct of
Geoffrey de Chargny, he took care to mark, in a manner not to be
mistaken, his appreciation of the valour and prowess of Eustace de
Ribeaumont.
"Sir Geoffrey," said the king, looking askance at the baffled knight,
"I have little reason to love you, as you must know. You wished to
seize from me, last night, by stealth, and in the time of truce, what
had given me so much trouble to acquire, and cost me such sums of
money. But, with God's assistance, we have disappointed you, and I
am rejoiced to have caught you thus in your attempt. As for you, Sir
Eustace," continued Edward, turning to his vanquished antagonist with
a smile on his countenance, "of all the knights in Christendom whom I
have ever seen defend himself, or attack an enemy, you are the most
valiant. I never yet met in battle any one who, body to body, gave me
so much trouble as you have done this day. And," added he, taking off
his chaplet, and placing it on the knight's head, "I present you with
this chaplet as being the best combatant of the day, either within or
without the walls; and I beg you to wear it this year for love of me. I
know that you are lively, and that you love the company of ladies and
damsels; therefore, wherever you go, say that I gave it to you. I also
grant you your liberty free of ransom, and you may set out to-morrow,
if you please, and go whither you will."
Such was the result of Geoffrey de Chargny's project for gratifying
Philip of Valois by gaining possession of Calais.