THE PEACE-MAKER
On foot, in the midst of his army, in the thickest part of the
vineyard, where he had posted his men, as I have already stated, stood
the Prince of Wales, calm and serene in the midst of danger. Never,
perhaps, in the whole course of his eventful life, was the young
hero more calm and serene than when it was announced to him that
the Cardinal of Perigord was dismounting and about to come into his
presence. And when, without delay, the cardinal approached, he was
evidently greatly impressed; and, making a low reverence, which the
prince returned with much affability, he indicated his errand, and
forthwith entered upon the business of mediation.
"Fair son," said the cardinal, "if you have well considered the great
army of the King of France you will permit me to make up matters
between you, if I possibly can."
"Sir," replied the prince, "my own honour and that of my army saved, I
am ready to listen to any reasonable terms."
"Fair son," said the cardinal, who seemed to rejoice at the prince's
words, "you speak well, and if I can I will bring about a treaty; for
it would be a great pity that so many worthy persons as are here should
meet in battle when the quarrel might be peacefully settled."
Finding that the Prince of Wales was well inclined to listen to
proposals of peace, and to give them a rational consideration,
the cardinal returned to John of Valois; and all Sunday he rode
from one army to the other, and exerted his art and eloquence to
effect a reconciliation. Many proposals were discussed. Much to his
disappointment, however, he made no progress. Indeed, John's demands
were such that the prince could not have consented to them without
sacrificing his own pride and the dignity of his country; and as the
day wore away it became evident that the negociation would arrive at no
satisfactory conclusion.
"I can listen to no other terms," said John, violently, "than that
four of the chief persons of the English army should be given up to my
will, and that the Prince of Wales and all his army should surrender
themselves unconditionally."
"Sir," said the prince to the cardinal, when this proposal was repeated
to him, "you know full well that it is impossible for me to agree
to such terms. But I offer to surrender all the towns I have taken
in France during my expedition, to give up without ransom all my
prisoners, and to swear not to bear arms against France for the space
of seven years."
"No," exclaimed John, after holding conference with his council; "this
offer is not satisfactory. But if the Prince of Wales and a hundred of
his knights will surrender themselves as my prisoners, I promise to
allow the English to pass on without a battle."
"No," replied the prince with much disdain; "I can do nothing to the
prejudice of my honour, for which I am accountable to my father and to
my country; and as for surrendering myself a prisoner, in that case I
should have to be ransomed; and I swear, by good St. George, that none
but liars shall ever have it in their power to tell that England had to
pay a ransom for me."
It now appeared that the cardinal was not destined to accomplish the
work which he so earnestly desired. But so completely was his heart set
on peace that he once more returned to the French army, still hoping
by his exhortations to pacify the leaders of the embattled hosts. His
reception, however, was this time the reverse of complimentary.
"Return to Poictiers," cried John of Valois and his council, "and
attempt not to bring us any more of your treaties or pacifications, or
it may fare the worse with you."
"Fair son," said the cardinal, coming to the Prince of Wales to inform
him of the result of his negociations, "I have done all that a man
could do to bring about peace. But I cannot pacify the King of France.
There must be a battle: so exert yourself as much as possible."
"Such are my intentions, and such the intentions of my army," replied
the prince, "and may God defend the right!"
The cardinal now took leave, and rode away towards Poictiers. In his
train, however, there were some knights and men-at-arms who were much
more inclined to the French than to the English. Aware that a battle
was imminent, they selected as their leader the Castellan of Amposta,
who was then attached to the cardinal, and, between the camps and the
city, stole quietly away to join the French.
On hearing of this the Prince of Wales was highly enraged. Not
unnaturally blaming the cardinal, who had so strongly expressed his
neutrality, the prince, in his anger, concluded that he had been
deceived, and did not fail to express himself strongly on the subject.
"By my faith," said he angrily, "it seems that, notwithstanding his
fine words, this priest has been exercising all his cunning to deceive
me. But let him beware; for, by my father's soul, ere the sun sets
to-morrow I may send him such a token as will convince him that I am
not one to be fooled with impunity."
"My lord," said those in whose presence this threat was uttered,
"restrain your wrath; for we cannot tell whether or no the cardinal was
aware of the desertion of his company till he arrived at Poictiers."