THE VICTORS AND THE VANQUISHED
It was to recall his people from the pursuit that the Prince of Wales
set his banner on a bush, and ordered to "sound trumpets to the
return." Nevertheless, it was not till after vespers that the chase was
at an end, and that the English returned to their camp.
Ere this, however, the result of the conflict, so far as the French
were concerned, was accurately known, and it was bruited about that,
while not fewer than six thousand men of all sorts were left dead on
the field, seventeen counts and a multitude of barons, knights, and
squires were prisoners, with John of Valois and Philip his son. Indeed,
when the English collected, they found they had twice as many prisoners
as themselves. A very few persons of distinction among the English were
missing. One of these was Roger, Lord De Ov.
Day drew to a close; the lights began to twinkle in the city of
Poictiers; evening fell over the plains between Beauvoir and Mapertuis;
and where lately the battle had raged with such vehemence all was now
silent; and, while Ramsay and Douglas were deluding their captors,
the Prince of Wales gave a supper in his pavilion to John of Valois
and many of the French nobles, and knights, and squires who had been
taken. Nor was there now any lack of good cheer among the English, most
of whom had not tasted bread for three long days; for the French had
brought with them plenty of provisions, not even neglecting to provide
themselves with wine to celebrate the victory which they were not
destined to gain.
Nor was it merely provisions which fell into the hands of the English.
In fact, the French had come to Poictiers not only magnificently
arrayed, but magnificently furnished with articles of luxury. Great and
of high value was the spoil, including rich jewels, gold and silver
plate, and trunks stuffed full of furred mantles, and belts weighty
from their gold and silver. If it had not been known that the French
came with a certainty of conquering, it might have been supposed that
they had brought their wealth with them to bribe their victors to
clemency.
When the hour of supper arrived the feast was spread, and the tables
were covered with the viands that formed part of the spoil. Every
preparation having been made, the prince conducted John of Valois and
his son to the pavilion; and, having seated them at an elevated table,
at which also were placed the Count of Tankerville and the Count of
Ponthieu, he caused the French nobles, and knights, and squires who
were captives to range themselves at the other tables; and, this done,
he himself insisted on serving John with his own hand, and resisted all
intreaties to sit down.
"No," said he, in the spirit of that chivalry of which he was the
most renowned representative; "I do not deem myself worthy of such an
honour; nor does it appertain to me to seat myself at the table of so
great a prince or so valiant a champion as you have, by your actions,
proved yourself this day."
"By Our Lady!" said the French knights admiringly, "it will, in truth,
be said of the prince as has been said of his father, that he is a most
noble gentleman who knows how to honour his enemies as well as his
friends."
And the English, who had witnessed his interview with James, Lord
Audley, highly applauded the sentiment.
But still John of Valois looked sad and disconsolate, and even the
good wine which he himself had brought, with an idea of quaffing it
under very different circumstances, failed to elevate his mood; and the
prince, sympathising with his captive's melancholy, endeavoured to
administer comfort.
"Sire," said he, "make good cheer, and let not your meal be the less
hearty because God Almighty has not gratified your wishes as to the
event of the day; for it has frequently been the fate of the most
famous warriors to taste defeat as well as victory. Wherefore be not
cast down, nor give way to despondence, seeing that my lord and father
is a prince of noble and generous soul, and will show you every honour
and friendship in his power, and will arrange your ransom reasonably,
and on such terms that you will always henceforth remain friends."
John of Valois bowed courteously, but he did not utter a word; and he
looked the picture of woe, for his intense pride had been wounded to
the quick.
"Moreover," added the prince, still eager to console, "I do not speak
to flatter you, but simply speak the truth, when I say that, of all
the warriors of France, you have this day given your adversaries most
to do, and won the highest renown; and all those on our side who have
observed the actions of each party unanimously allow this to be your
due, and, in reflecting on the deeds of arms wrought this day, they
award you the prize and garland."
As the Prince of Wales concluded, there were murmurs of praise from
every one present; and the French knights failed not to do justice to
the chivalry of their youthful conqueror.