Great enterprises and deeds of arms were achieved in these
wars; since the time of good Charlemagne, king of France, never
were such feats performed.--FROISSART.[e]
[Sidenote: [1328-1350 A.D.]]
Although France was little prepared for a great national war, a king
mounted its throne who was almost certain to provoke one. The princes of
the family of Valois had always represented the ideas and the interests
of the noblesse during the preceding reigns, when reasons of state,
maxims of law, and necessities of finance had led the government to look
to other councillors and undergo other influence. With the accession of
Philip of Valois, the noblesse recovered that ascendency of which they
had been so long deprived. And this influence they displayed with a
petulance and a pride which could not but provoke what they most loved, a
war.
“Charles the Fair having expired, the barons assembled to take into
consideration the government of the kingdom. The queen was pregnant,
and until the sex of her issue was known, the title of king could not
be assumed. The only question was to whom, as nearest in blood, the
government of the kingdom should be committed, especially as in France a
female could not succeed to the crown. The English said that their king,
the son of Philip the Fair’s daughter, and consequently nephew of the
late monarch, was, as nearest of kin, more entitled to the regency and
to the throne, if the queen did not bring forth a prince, than Philip
of Valois, who was but the cousin of the deceased monarch. Many learned
in the civil and canon law were of this opinion. Isabella, the daughter
of Philip the Fair, might, they alleged, be set aside on account of her
sex; but one of the right sex, and of the nearest affinity, ought to
succeed. The men of France, incapable of suffering the idea of becoming
subjects of an English prince, replied, that Edward could only succeed by
the right of his mother; and when the mother had no right, the son could
have none. This opinion being accepted as the most sensible, was approved
by the barons, and the government delivered to Philip of Valois. He
accordingly received the homage due to the crown of France, but not that
due to the crown of Navarre, which the count of Évreux claimed by right
of his wife, daughter of Louis Hutin.”
[Sidenote: [1328-1330 A.D.]]
This narrative, by the continuator of Nangis,[c] is sufficiently
correct. Navarre was given to the count of Évreux, he consenting to
receive pecuniary compensation for the counties of Champagne and Brie.
In April the queen was confined of a daughter; Philip instantly assumed
the title of king, and gave orders for his coronation at Rheims. At the
same time, by a letter dated Northampton, the 16th day of May, 1328,
Edward appointed two bishops as procurators to make good his claim to the
kingdom of France. At the close of the same month Philip was solemnly
crowned at Rheims.
[Illustration: PHILIP VI
(From an old French print)]
The first act of the new king as regent seems to have been to order the
treasurer of the late monarch, Peter Remi, to be tortured--thus compelled
to confess treason, and finally hanged. He also summoned his barons to
support him in a military expedition into Flanders. Count Louis was
obstructed in his government, and especially in his levy of taxes, by the
people of Bruges, Ypres, and other cities; those of Ghent alone remaining
true to him and to France. Louis demanded aid of Philip. The greater
part of the barons were of opinion that the season was too far advanced
to admit of an expedition that year; but Philip, anxious to signalise
his reign, turned to the constable, Walter de Châtillon, and asked his
advice. “The brave heart finds all times opportune for fighting,” replied
the constable. The king accordingly summoned his lieges to meet him at
the feast of the Madeleine in July, at Arras. “But the good towns,”
says the chronicle of St. Denis,[h] “did not attend, giving their money
instead, and staying at home to mind their cities.”
The king’s army was most numerous, divided into ten divisions or battles,
the nobles from every quarter hastening to evince their loyalty by
attending the first summons of a new and chivalrous king. The citizens
of West Flanders alone mustered to oppose the French, and not more than
twelve thousand of them, according to Froissart, took post under Colas
Zannequin on the hill of Cassel. They were confident, however, and hung
out a flag with a cock painted on it, and an inscription saying, that
this cock would crow, ere the upstart king, the _roi trouvé_, would find
his way into Cassel.
The Flemings remained tranquil for several days, with the French
encamped before them. At last at the hour of vespers when the latter
were preparing supper, the Flemings marched out in three bodies, fell
upon them, and penetrated into their camp. Philip, like his namesake at
Mons-en-Pévêlle, was obliged to withdraw, and it was his chaplains who
helped him to put on his armour. When the king showed himself with the
_oriflamme_, the knights rallied round him from all quarters, the foot,
who were more numerous, continuing their flight. The Flemings had failed
in mastering as well as surprising Philip’s camp, and now assailed by
the French cavalry (having none of their own), they stood firm and fought
for a long time a defensive battle. At last a charge made a breach in
their solid phalanx, the French knights poured in, and the Flemings were
routed and slaughtered. One of the divisions regained the hill of Cassel,
but all alike perished. The king estimated the loss of his enemies at
twenty thousand.
He entered the several towns one after the other in triumph, took a
thousand citizens of Bruges as hostages, tore down the bells, levelled
the walls, and proscribed municipal liberties. When Philip delivered the
county of Flanders, thus humbled and mutilated, to its lord, he addressed
him, as the continuator of Nangis[c] records, in the following words:
“Count, I come hither at your request, and in all probability because you
were too negligent in executing justice. I could not have come, as you
know, without great expense; yet, out of my liberality, I restore you
your land quiet and pacified, and I forgive you the expense. But another
time take care. Let me not be obliged to return by your over-clemency,
for if I do, it shall be for my own profit.”
Thus exhorted, adds the chronicler, Count Louis so exerted himself that,
within three months, he had put ten thousand persons to various kinds of
death. In this manner was signalised the triumph of the French noblesse
over the citizens of West Flanders.
[Sidenote: [1328-1335 A.D.]]
Meantime, in England, affairs were somewhat unsettled. Edward III cannot
be considered to have undertaken the government of that country until the
death of Mortimer and the imprisonment of the queen-mother in October,
1330. In the first year after Philip’s accession, Isabella seemed
inclined to dispute his title, and steps were taken to conclude alliances
against France. But the success of Philip in the Flemish war, and the
hostile attitude of the English barons, as well as the discontent of the
English people with the concessions made to Scotland, precluded the idea
of prosecuting the quarrel with France.
Edward, therefore, at his mother’s bidding, proceeded to Amiens in the
spring of 1329, and did homage to Philip, maintaining his rights to those
portions of his possessions in the south of France which the French king
still retained. But this act of submission led to disputes, one monarch
pretending that it was homage simple, the other that it was homage
_liège_. Philip thought the opportunity favourable for invading Guienne,
the power of Isabella and Mortimer being paralysed by their many enemies.
The king levied an _aide_ upon his barons for the expedition. So far had
these hostile intentions proceeded, that the count of Alençon, Philip’s
brother, attacked the English in Saintonge, and took and burned the
castle of Saintes. On the death of Mortimer, however, and the assumption
of full power by Edward, Philip returned to more amicable sentiments,
and promised to make amends for the affair of Saintes, as well as for
several other grievances. The monarchs seemed to be on the most friendly
terms; they spoke of proceeding to the Holy Land together, and even of
contracting a marriage between their children.
The subsequent coolness and enmity between them is universally, and
apparently with justice, attributed to the malice of Robert of Artois,
who for some years had been a pretender to the lordship of that county.
Robert had undoubtedly been wronged in the judgment which took Artois
from him, the direct heir, and gave it to a female and a collateral,
merely because she was more closely allied to the reigning king of
France. When Robert asserted his rights in arms, Philip the Tall was
unable to reduce him; and if Robert submitted, and even constituted
himself a prisoner, it was on the understanding that the unjust sentence
against him should be revoked, and the county restored to him. On this
understanding, Robert married the daughter of Charles of Valois.
Nevertheless Philip the Tall and Charles the Fair evaded the demands
and expectations of Robert, who reckoned on having his rights at last
from his brother-in-law, Philip of Valois. Robert accordingly served the
crown with zeal, and was one of the principal supporters of this prince’s
claims to the throne. “Thus, on Philip’s accession, Robert became
everything in France,” says Froissart.[e] There having been two sentences
of the court of parliament against Robert’s claim, it was difficult
to rescind them, at least without some new plea, some yet unproduced
documents in his favour. Such, probably, was the remark with which Philip
and his law officers met the demands of Robert.
If a document existed likely to prove favourable for his claim, it must
have fallen into the hands of those who had robbed him of the county.
The countess Mahaut, to whom Philip the Fair had adjudged Artois, died
soon after the accession of Philip of Valois. Her chief counsellor and
confidant had been the bishop of Arras. He also dying, left voluminous
papers, some of which had been secreted and carried off from Arras by
a woman named Divion, mistress of the prelate. The countess lived long
enough to endeavour, by law or vengeance, to get back the papers from
Divion.
Aware of these circumstances, Joan, the countess of Artois, set to work
and procured from this woman, or caused to be forged by her, certain
documents. One was a letter from the bishop of Arras to Robert of
Artois, craving pardon for having purloined the documents. Another was
a charter of Robert, count of Artois, the grandfather, settling Artois
upon his son, the father of Robert. Michelet[f] declares the documents,
which still exist, to be forgeries. Robert of Artois boldly produced
them, claimed by virtue of them to be restored to the possession of his
county; and, as a proof of what value was men’s testimony in those days,
he brought upwards of fifty witnesses in support of his false documents.
Had the king been prosecutor, these, no doubt, would have been found
authentic enough for the parliament. But Robert of Artois was no friend
of the legists, and parliament remained firm to its first decision. The
king’s _procureur_ objected to the documents, and Robert, summoned to say
whether he would stand by them, hesitated. The woman, Divion, was seized,
put to the torture, and acknowledged her forgery. The parliament ordered
her to be burned. Robert of Artois being proved so far culpable as to
have plotted with her, was accused, moreover, of aiding her to poison the
countess Mahaut of Artois. Robert fled to Brabant. The king caused him to
be condemned for forgery, and deprived of his estates and honours. His
wife, his sons, and relatives were imprisoned, and, the legists accusing
him of attempting to murder and to kill the king by sorcery, drove
Robert altogether from the continent, and compelled him to take refuge
in England. The fugitive was well received by Edward, appointed of his
council, and endowed with ample domains.
Philip of Valois knew not what use to make of that absolute power, which
the efforts of so many kings had built up. Policy, he evidently had
none. He liked the splendour, magnificence, and pride of a court; and,
consequently, preferred his noblesse to any other class of society. Still
he showed, in the case of Robert of Artois, his determination not to
allow any of them to dictate or impose upon him. He consulted his lawyers
as in the case of church encroachments, but shrunk from ordinance or
legislation in their favour. Abroad, Philip was generally uncertain in
purpose.
[Sidenote: [1335-1337 A.D.]]
The monarch’s incertitude was, however, soon relieved. Edward III became
more and more irritated at the support which the French and Flemings
gave to the Scots: in June, 1335, he issued an order from Newcastle to
the Cinque Ports to arm, and intercept a naval expedition fitting out
at Calais for Scotland. In February, 1336, an edict appeared ordering
all Englishmen, from sixteen to sixty, to be prepared to repel invasion.
Still negotiations continued; and it was not till August of the same year
that Edward announced to his subjects the refusal of the French king to
cease rendering active assistance to the Scottish foe. At the same time
the count of Flanders threw off the mask by arresting all the English
traders in his dominions, and Edward was obliged to respond to it by a
similar act.
The following year was spent by both monarchs in preparing alliances, and
by Edward in making the most active and unusual preparations for war.
Philip hired large bodies of Germans, both men-at-arms and light troops.
By marrying the heiress of the duke of Brittany to one of his relatives,
he hoped to have secured the allegiance of that prince and family; but
Philip’s attention was chiefly turned towards the south and the conquest
of Guienne, for which enterprise he had the succour of the nobles of the
Pyrenees as well as of Languedoc. He seemed not to expect to be seriously
attacked on the side of Flanders.
Yet it was in that direction that Edward principally turned his efforts,
spending the year 1337 in negotiations with the princes whose territories
extended from Antwerp to Cologne. The English king had married the
daughter of the count of Hainault, who was the first that he gained,
or hoped to have gained; the duke of Brabant, the duke of Gelderland,
and the archbishop of Cologne also listened to Edward’s proposals, and
willingly received his subsidies. They might bring into the field a
thousand knights. But Edward pushed his quest for allies still further:
he engaged the duke of Austria to invade Burgundy, he concluded an
agreement with the count palatine for a subsidiary force, and even
obtained a promise from the emperor Ludwig of Bavaria that he would aid
in the war against France with an army of two thousand knights; for this
his imperial majesty was to be paid 300,000 florins.
These counts and knights observed to the envoy of Edward that,
notwithstanding their own prowess, the Flemish artisans would prove
far more potent auxiliaries against France than any number of lordly
chivalry. Edward approved of the idea; and the bishop of Lincoln and
other envoys proceeded to Ghent, “not sparing their money by the way.”
The subjection of Flanders had been caused by the rich citizens of Ghent
proving false to the national cause, supported solely by the men of
Bruges and West Flanders. This enabled the democracy of Ghent to triumph
over them, and to become organised under the lead of a brewer of that
city, named Artevelde. The envoys of Edward addressed themselves to
this new king or popular sovereign, and were well received by him. He
summoned consuls or deputies from the other towns, and these soon came
to an accord that trade should be carried on as usual, and wool imported
from England, notwithstanding the prohibitions of France and the count of
Flanders.
To Edward wool was at once money and alliance. Whilst the working and
manufacturing class of Flemings thus profited by the English, the chiefs
and Artevelde himself received money for the occasion. Still, however
easy to win over the Flemings to neutrality, it was difficult to induce
them to enter upon active war with France. The French, however, and
the Flemish aristocracy did all in their power to provoke the civic
democracy; they enticed from Ghent almost the only personage of birth
who favoured the popular party, and had entertained the envoys of Edward.
This was a knight of Courtrai, father-in-law of Artevelde; when he fell
into their hands, they decapitated him, to the great irritation of the
men of Ghent. The Flemish knights, in order to intercept the frequent
communication and envoys passing between England and the Low Countries,
took possession of the isle of Cadsand, close to Walcheren, and lying in
wait there for the English, obliged them in going or in returning home,
to take the route of Dordrecht, instead of sailing direct from Antwerp.
Edward no sooner learned this, than he fitted out an expedition in the
Thames under Lord Derby and Sir Walter Manny, of six hundred knights
and two thousand archers. These assailed Cadsand, defeated the Flemish
knights, and captured Guy of Flanders, who, after some delay, joined the
English party.
EDWARD III CLAIMS THE THRONE OF FRANCE
[Sidenote: [1337-1339 A.D.]]
In October, 1337, Edward took the important step of laying claim to the
throne of France by right of his mother, sister of Philip the Fair, and
of declaring Philip of Valois, descended from a brother of that monarch,
a wrongful usurper. This he announced in letters from Edward, king of
France and England, to his allies in the Low Countries; and he at the
same time appointed the duke of Brabant his vicar-general in the kingdom
of France. The king’s allies received this solemn announcement, but do
not seem to have acted upon it; the duke of Brabant, far from assuming
the office of vicar-general, on the contrary assured Philip of Valois of
his friendship.
In the spring of 1338, Edward embarked for Antwerp with what forces he
could muster, hoping to make a brilliant campaign with the princes of
the Low Countries. They showed very little alacrity, and though willing
to receive large sums, prepared to prove themselves as little hostile to
the French king as was consistent with their receiving the money from the
English. The emperor, though he had promised to be ready by St. Andrew’s
day was too anxious for a reconciliation with the pope to defeat his
purpose by aiding in an invasion of France; and Edward was reduced to
recommence the task of negotiation.
It was late in 1339 before Edward was joined by his German allies.
Some time was passed in solemnly declaring war, and then the English
advanced to Cambray, which was garrisoned by French troops. But as it
did not belong to the king of France, there was no profit in capturing
it; Edward, therefore, pursued his march, against the advice of many of
his allies, into France, upon which his relative, the count of Hainault,
formally quitted his banner for that of Philip. Edward nevertheless
advanced towards St. Quentin, at the head of about forty thousand men.
Philip of Valois had mustered an army nearly double in number that of his
enemy, there being forty thousand infantry raised by the money of the
towns, and twenty thousand more Genoese and Italian foot; three divisions
of men-at-arms were each fifteen thousand strong. When the armies were
in presence, Edward sent to request the king of France to appoint a day
for the battle. Philip eagerly fixed a day, but with all his chivalry,
the monarch hesitated. King Robert of Sicily, skilled in the science
of astrology, had written to warn the king of France not to engage in
combat with the English whilst Edward was with them in person. The French
monarch in consequence showed reluctance to engage, and the auxiliaries
of both armies took the pretext to separate. Edward’s German allies
withdrew, and Philip distributed his men-at-arms amongst the garrisons of
the frontier.
[Sidenote: [1339-1340 A.D.]]
It was subsequent to this bootless campaign that Froissart fixes the
time of Edward’s assuming habitually the title, and quartering the arms,
of king of France with his own. This assumption of the crown of France,
which seemed not only drawing the sword, but flinging away the scabbard,
was a promise to the Flemings that he would wage the “great war” and
chiefly through their means and in behalf of their interests. For this
purpose he prepared a great expedition, whilst his Queen Philippa spent
the winter at Ghent among the good citizens, in order to encourage and
attach them to England. But while Edward won the Flemings, his German
allies grew lukewarm. He had learned in the last campaign to mistrust
their sincerity: they now offered to make peace with France; but Philip
rejected their offer, and sent troops to ravage Hainault.
In 1340, Edward had collected a formidable army on board a navy equally
numerous. Philip directed his efforts to intercept this expedition,
and to muster a fleet capable of performing so important a service. He
took into pay great numbers of Genoese officers and seamen; granted
the Normans several boons and privileges to induce them to fit out
ships, and with these they surprised and burned Southampton, whilst
the English visited Eu with equal severity. But on the other hand, the
French captured two of their largest vessels, called the _Christopher_
and _Edouarda_, in a naval engagement that lasted all day, and cost the
lives of a thousand men. In June, Edward sailed from the Thames with his
army for the Schelde, not expecting, indeed, to fight a naval combat, for
there was a number of the ladies of his court on board.[b]
THE BATTLE OF SLUYS OR L’ÉCLUSE
King Edward embarked on the 22nd of June with the élite of the English
knights and archers, and went down the Thames towards Sluys. The
French fleet, 140 strong in large ships, “without counting the smaller
ones,” and carrying more than forty thousand men, awaited them between
Blankenberghe and Sluys. This naval army, under the command of Admiral
Hugh Quiéret, the treasurer Nicholas Béhuchet, and the Ligurian corsair
Barbavara, had for two years wrought much damage to English commerce,
taking ships, massacring crews, and making descents on Plymouth, Dover,
Southampton, Sandwich, and Rye. England breathed out vengeance, but
would not have obtained it if the French fleet had been well commanded.
This fleet, thanks to the Genoese auxiliaries, had a great numerical
superiority, but the three commanders were at variance.
Béhuchet was a rough bourgeois who had served his naval apprenticeship
in the king’s exchequer, and whom Philip had been foolish enough to
associate with the admirals; this man actually tried to teach an old
sea-dog like “Barbevaire.” Hugh Quiéret, the titular admiral, was hardly
more skilful than Béhuchet. They massed the fleet in a narrow creek off
the coast of Flanders, as if the great thing for a navy was to choose a
“sure and easily defensible” position.
King Edward and his men, who came along with a fair wind, looked and
beheld before Sluys so large a number of vessels that the masts seemed
like a wood. The king was very much astonished and asked whose they could
be. “Sire,” they said, “it is the Norman army kept by the king of France
at sea, and which has done you so much damage and burned the good town
of Hantonne (Southampton), and conquered the _Christopher_, your large
ship, and slain those who manned her.” “Oh,” said the king, “I have
wanted to fight them for a long time, and please God and St. George, we
will; for of a truth they have caused me so much vexation that I would
avenge myself.” After so saying, he wisely and skilfully set out his
ships, putting the strongest in front, and giving the best places to his
soldiers and archers. And he manœuvred and wheeled about so as to get the
wind and sun on the poop. The Normans thought he was tacking about so as
to flee, but the leader of the Genoese auxiliaries was not so deceived.
[Illustration: CHÂTEAU OF DIEPPE]
“When ‘Barbevaire’ (Barbavara) saw the English ships approaching, he
said to the admiral and Nicholas Béhuchet: ‘My lords, here is the king
of England and all his navy coming upon us; if you take my advice you
will steer for the open sea, for, if you stay here, while they have sun,
wind, and wave in their favour, they will hem you in so closely that you
will be helpless and unable to manœuvre.’ To this Nicholas Béhuchet,
who understood accounts better than naval warfare, answered, ‘Let him
be hanged who goes away, for here we will stay, and take our chance.’
‘My lord,’ replied Barbevaire, ‘since you will not believe me, I will
not stay to be destroyed and I shall get myself and my ships out of this
hole’” [St. Denis.[h]] And he went off out of the creek with all his
Italian galleys and gave all his care to his own fleet.
Edward immediately attacked and began by boarding the great
_Christopher_, the ship taken from him a year ago by the Normans. The
crew were seized, killed, or thrown into the sea, while the fight became
general all along the haven. “The battle was hard and fierce on both
sides, archers and crossbow-men shot stubbornly at one another, while
soldiers closed and fought hand to hand. That they might fight at better
advantage they had large hooks with iron chains which they threw from one
ship to another and attached them together.”
Right bitterly from six in the morning till three in the afternoon did
they fight, Béhuchet himself behaving as a true knight, but all the
courage in the world could not repair his error. “The French ships were
so entangled in their moorings that they were helpless.” Their numbers
availed not at all; one after the other they were boarded by the English.
Nevertheless the resistance was so fierce that the fate of the day could
yet have been changed by the aid of Barbavara, who was manœuvring on the
enemy’s flanks, but a considerable reinforcement of Flemings arriving
from Bruges and neighbouring districts by the port of Sluys, decided the
fate of the French fleet.
“In short, King Edward and his men gained all along the line; the Normans
and all the other French were discomfited, dead, or drowned, none
escaping, for if they tried to take refuge on land, the Flemings awaited
them on the sands.”
The English gave almost no quarter. Hugh Quiéret was, they say,
slaughtered in cold blood after he had given himself up. Béhuchet was
hanged from the mast of his own ship, “to spite the king of France.”
Barbavara managed to make good his retreat and regained the open with
his forty Genoese galleys, but the French were exterminated. It has been
made out that their loss amounted to thirty thousand men. The English
bought their victory dearly, but it was complete. The French navy was
annihilated. That 24th of June, 1340, marks the naval début of the Valois
dynasty.[d]
This first naval battle between the two nations very much raised the
confidence of the English and the alacrity of the Flemings. Edward had
not only a larger army of his own than in the previous campaign, together
with the troops of the German allies, but, in addition, forty thousand
Flemings under Artevelde, besides those of West Flanders, who proceeded
in the direction of St. Omer. This immense host, instead of marching to
meet and overwhelm the French king, sat down before Tournay.
Edward sent from thence a challenge to Philip of Valois, as he styled
him, to decide their quarrel by single combat, or by an encounter of
a hundred knights on either side. Philip replied, on the last day of
July, that such a title could not be addressed to him; that the writer
was his liege, and had no right to enter his dominions. He promised to
cast the intruder out of the kingdom without loss of time; and that, as
to the Flemings, he was confident they would rally to their own lord.
Philip marched to the neighbourhood of Tournay with an army as formidable
as that which he brought in the preceding year; but neither party were
prepared to engage in a general action. The French hesitated to attack,
and eleven weeks’ siege made no impression upon Tournay. Robert of
Artois, who commanded the armed citizens of West Flanders, led them
against St. Omer, not with the hope of capturing that important town, but
for purposes of pillage and devastation. The Flemings were thus engaged
in plundering one of the suburbs, when the French within, issuing by
another gate, came round and surprised them in the rear, routing and
slaying them as they fled, to the number of four thousand. This disaster
made such an impression on the army of West Flanders, that a panic seized
it on the following morning, and all fled and dispersed to their homes.
If the campaign of the preceding year had taught Edward how little was
to be expected from the Walloon or the German, he learned this year that
even the redoubtable Flemings would not enable him either to conquer
France or to reduce Philip to just and reasonable terms. He therefore
consented that Joan de Valois, sister of Philip and countess of Hainault,
should seek to bring about an accommodation. Her efforts led to a six
months’ truce, consented to in order that plenipotentiaries from both
monarchs might treat for the conclusion of a more definite peace.[b]
Thus ended the campaign of 1340, “a year of misery and calamity,” says
the continuator of Nangis; “although for two or three years past,
the common people had been oppressed with very hard exactions, our
misfortunes were much greater this time.”[c]
THE WAR IN BRITTANY
[Sidenote: [1340-1342 A.D.]]
The belligerents had scarcely suspended hostilities on the northern
frontier of France, when a quarrel arose in another quarter, giving equal
facilities for English interference, and offering to Edward more sincere,
zealous, and martial allies than the Flemings had proved, whether knights
or artisans.[b] It also brought the English king much hope.
In 1341 hostilities were revived in Brittany where the two kings each
sustained a different claimant for the ducal throne. The duke John
III had just died, leaving no children. Should the duchy fall to the
daughter of his eldest brother--whose death had preceded his own--Joan
de Penthièvre, who had married Charles of Blois, or to his own younger
brother, John de Montfort? The two pretendants set forth the Mosaic law,
the edicts of the Roman empire, the Salic law, and tradition; the lawyers
piled up innumerable authorities: but politics decided the question.
Charles of Blois was nephew to Philip VI; with him Brittany would be in
closer dependence upon the crown. A parliamentary act pronounced at the
château of Conflans decided the matter in his favour. John de Montfort
hastened to England, and agreed to recognise Edward III as king of
France. In view of his promise as vassal loyally to aid and defend the
English king, he was to possess Brittany in fief.
Thus began one of those wars--marked by “engagements, sallies, gallant
rescues, surprising feats of arms, and brave adventures”--so delightfully
depicted by Froissart[e] so grindingly oppressive to the people.
Charles of Blois, supported by a numerous French army, among whom was
the son of the king, besieged his adversary in the city of Nantes.
Thirty Breton knights had been taken in a neighbouring castle. Charles,
despite the piety which gained for him the name of “saint,” and Duke
John, who was later to glory in the title “the good,” had these thirty
knights decapitated and their heads thrown into the market-place by the
ballistas. The terrified citizens capitulated; John de Montfort was
imprisoned at Paris in the tower of the Louvre.[g]
The countess Joan de Montfort was at Rennes when she heard that her
husband had been taken. With a heart full of grief she yet bravely
consoled her friends and supporters; and showed them her little son,
named also John like his father, saying, “Ah, my friends, be not bowed
down for my lord whom we have lost; he is but one man. Behold my son who
shall be, if God so wills it, his avenger and your benefactor. I will
give you of my wealth and will provide for you a captain who shall bring
you consolation.”[e]
She then journeyed from Rennes to all the fortresses and towns, taking
her son with her; she encouraged her men, reinforced her garrisons with
troops and supplies; and came at length to Hennebon, where she wintered.
She had chosen this place, situated as it was on the Blavet, not far from
the sea, to have facile communication with England. With the advent of
spring, officers and troops swarmed to Nantes to join Charles of Blois;
and the siege of Rennes was begun. The city was taken after a valiant
defence; and the French marched on Hennebon, which they bombarded with
showers of stones and enormous rocks.[16][g]
_Joan de Montfort defends Hennebon_
[Sidenote: [1342 A.D.]]
The countess, who had clothed herself in armour, was mounted on a
war-horse, and galloped up and down the streets of the town, entreating
and encouraging the inhabitants to defend themselves honourably. She
ordered the ladies and other women to unpave the streets,[17] carry the
stones to the ramparts, and throw them on their enemies. She had pots
of quicklime brought to her for the same purpose. That same day, the
countess performed a very gallant deed; she ascended a high tower to
see how her people behaved; and, having observed that all the lords and
others of the army had quitted their tents, and were come to the assault,
she immediately descended, mounted her horse, armed as she was, collected
three hundred horsemen, sallied out at their head by another gate that
was not attacked, and, galloping up to the tents of her enemies, cut
them down, and set them on fire, without any loss, for there were only
servants and boys, who fled upon her approach. As soon as the French
saw their camp on fire, and heard the cries, they immediately hastened
thither, bawling out, “Treason! Treason!” so that none remained at the
assault. The countess, seeing this, got her men together, and, finding
that she could not re-enter Hennebon without great risk, took another
road, leading to the castle of Brest, which is situated near. The lord
Louis of Spain, who was marshal of the army, had gone to his tents, which
were on fire; and, seeing the countess and her company galloping off as
fast as they could, he immediately pursued them with a large body of
men-at-arms. He gained so fast upon them, that he came up with them, and
wounded or slew all that were not well mounted; but the countess, and
part of her company, made such speed that they arrived at the castle of
Brest, where they were received with great joy.
On the morrow, the lords of France, who had lost their tents and
provisions, took counsel, if they should not make huts of the branches
and leaves of trees near to the town, and were thunder-struck when they
heard that the countess had herself planned and executed this enterprise;
whilst those of the town, not knowing what was become of her, were very
uneasy; for they were full five days without gaining any intelligence of
her. The countess, in the meanwhile, was so active that she assembled
from five to six hundred men, well armed and mounted, and with them
set out about midnight from Brest, and came straight to Hennebon about
sunrise, riding along one of the sides of the enemy’s host, until she
came to the gates of the castle, which were opened to her; she entered
with great triumph and sounds of trumpets and other warlike instruments,
to the astonishment of the French, who began arming themselves, to make
another assault upon the town, while those within mounted the walls to
defend it. This attack was very severe, and lasted till past noon. The
French lost more than their opponents; and then the lords of France put
a stop to it, for their men were killed and wounded to no purpose. They
next retreated, and held a council whether the lord Charles should not go
to besiege the castle of Auray, which King Arthur had built and enclosed.
It was determined he should march thither, accompanied by the duke de
Bourbon, the earl of Blois, Sir Robert Bertrand, marshal of France; and
that Sir Hervé de Léon was to remain before Hennebon with a part of the
Genoese under his command, and the lord Louis of Spain, the viscount de
Rohan, with the rest of the Genoese and Spaniards. They sent for twelve
large machines which they had left at Rennes, to cast stones and annoy
the castle of Hennebon; for they perceived that they did not gain any
ground by their assaults. The French divided their army into two parts;
one remained before Hennebon, and the other went to besiege the castle of
Auray. The lord Charles of Blois went to this last place, and quartered
all his division in the neighbourhood: and of him we will now speak, and
leave the others. The lord Charles ordered an attack and skirmish to be
made upon the castle, which was well garrisoned; there were in it full
two hundred men-at-arms, under the command of Sir Henry de Spinefort and
Oliver his brother.
[Illustration: ANCIENT TOWER AT ROUEN]
The town of Vannes, which held for the countess de Montfort, was four
leagues distant from this castle; the captain whereof was Sir Geoffry de
Malestroit. On the other side was situated the good town of Guingamp,
of which the captain of Dinant was governor, who was at that time with
the countess in the town of Hennebon; but he had left in his hôtel at
Dinant his wife and daughters, and had appointed his son Sir Reginald
as governor during his absence. Between these two places there was a
castle which belonged to the lord Charles, who had well filled it with
men-at-arms and Burgundian soldiers. Girard de Maulin was master of it;
and with him was another gallant knight, called Sir Peter Portebœuf, who
harassed all the country round about, and pressed these two towns so
closely that no provisions or merchandise could enter them without great
risk of being taken; for these Burgundians made constant excursions, one
day towards Vannes, and another day to Guingamp. They continued their
excursions so regularly, that Sir Reginald de Dinant took prisoner, by
means of an ambuscade, this Sir Girard de Maulin and thirty-five of his
men, and at the same time rescued fifteen merchants and all their goods,
which the Burgundians had taken, and were driving them to their garrison,
called La Roche Perion; but Sir Reginald conquered them and carried them
prisoners to Dinant, for which he was much praised.
We will now return to the countess de Montfort, who was besieged by Sir
Louis of Spain in Hennebon. He had made such progress by battering and
destroying the walls with his machines, that the courage of those within
began to falter. At that moment the bishop of Léon held a conference with
his nephew Sir Hervé de Léon, by whose means, it has been said, the earl
of Montfort was made prisoner. They conversed on different things, in
mutual confidence, and at last agreed that the bishop should endeavour
to gain over those within the town, so that it might be given up to the
lord Charles; and Sir Hervé, on his side, was to obtain their pardon
from the lord Charles, and an assurance that they should keep their
goods, etc., unhurt. They then separated, and the bishop re-entered the
town. The countess had strong suspicions of what was going forward, and
begged of the lords of Brittany, for the love of God, that they would
not doubt that she should receive succours before three days were over.
But the bishop spoke so eloquently, and made use of such good arguments,
that these lords were in much suspense all that night. On the morrow he
continued the subject, and succeeded so far as to gain them over, or very
nearly so, to his opinion; insomuch that Sir Hervé de Léon had advanced
close to the town to take possession of it, with their free consent, when
the countess, looking out from a window of the castle towards the sea,
cried out, most joyfully, “I see the succours I have so long expected
and wished for coming.” She repeated this expression twice; and the
townspeople ran to the ramparts, and to the windows of the castle, and
saw a numerous fleet of great and small vessels, well trimmed, making all
the sail they could towards Hennebon. They rightly imagined it must be
the fleet from England, so long detained at sea by tempests and contrary
winds.[e] The besiegers were forced to retire. About this time the
traitor Robert of Artois fell in an engagement near Vannes.
[Sidenote: [1342-1345 A.D.]]
Little by little, the two kings found themselves drawn personally into
the contest. In 1342 Edward went himself to Brittany and appeared at the
siege of Vannes, of Rennes, and of Nantes. The duke of Normandy drew
up on his side an army comprising an infinity of barons and over forty
thousand soldiers. The two forces met near Malestroit. The English, in
numbers less than a fourth of their enemy, were careful to obtain a
strong position. It was in the depth of winter; provision was lacking;
cold rains flooded the two camps and multiplied disease. The papal
legates proposed a truce, which was accepted on January 19th, 1343, to
continue till the feast of St. Michael, 1346.[g]
It was also agreed that each monarch was to take the pope for arbiter,
and plead his cause at Rome. Edward empowered certain commissioners to
fulfil this office, and negotiate concerning “the right which he had, or
might have, to the kingdom and crown of France.” That he was prepared
to insist upon this right, is proved by his order to the authorities in
Guienne to have all appeals from that province to the king of France
addressed to him, in that capacity, at his court in London.
PHILIP’S FINANCIAL DIFFICULTIES
These repeated truces were not the result of any diminution of inveteracy
or of pretensions on either side, but of the impossibility to continue
the payment and employ of such large armies. Of Philip’s financial or
political acts we have not ample records; but sufficient exist to show
the immense difficulty he found in supporting the military expenses of
such campaigns. If to find proper soldiers was no easy task, to raise
wherewith to pay them was a difficulty still greater. In 1342, Philip VI
issued an ordinance, establishing store-houses and gabelles of salt, a
government monopoly, in fact, of this necessary of life. Taxes on trade,
wholesale or retail, had for some time existed. The Italian merchants
paid so much in the pound on imports and exports. The city of Paris,
in order to pay for the men-at-arms which were furnished to the royal
army, had been allowed to levy a duty on all sales and purchases in the
markets. The fairs of Champagne had always paid a similar tax. The
king now levied this generally at the rate of five deniers the livre;
but the chief resource was alternately debasing the coin, and raising
its standard, until there was no ascertaining or being certain of its
value for a month together. This incertitude put a stop to trade, and
a scarcity coinciding with it, produced such universal distress, that
partial insurrection and a general feeling of discontent were the
consequence.
RENEWAL OF THE WAR WITH ENGLAND (1344 A.D.)
In the meantime, the pope made no progress in reconciling the two
monarchs, or passing judgment upon their differences; and a cruel act of
Philip’s so aroused Edward’s resentment, that although the term of the
truce had not expired, he gave orders for recommencing war. Olivier de
Clisson, a Breton noble, had been the prisoner of the English. Edward,
it seems, released him instead of the bishop of Léon, also his captive.
This sufficed to inspire Philip with doubts of his fidelity, and of a
sudden, De Clisson, De Laval, and some twelve or thirteen Breton nobles,
were seized, conveyed to Paris, and, without form of trial, or even
public accusation, decapitated. Several barons of Normandy were soon
after seized, and as summarily slain, one of them, of the family of
Harcourt, alone escaping. These acts were not more cruel and unjust than
the tortures, trials, and condemnations of Philip the Fair; but they were
worse precedents, evincing a contempt for even the forms of justice, and
making barefaced murder and assassination one of the regular proceedings
of government.
Many of the decapitated nobles were at least friends of Edward. Without
being guilty of treason, they might well have considered the rights of
De Montfort in Brittany as superior to those of Charles of Blois. Edward
denounced the assassinations committed by King Philip in issuing an order
to his lieutenants to recommence the war. The French were by no means
gladdened at this renewal of hostilities. They feared not so much the
enemy as the tax-gatherer, and began to think that their intolerable
burdens would be made permanent. In February, 1345, therefore, Philip
found it necessary to issue a proclamation, stating that it was not his
intention to unite the gabelle of salt or the tax of four deniers the
livre to his domain: in other words, he promised that they were not to be
permanent.
Edward had hitherto neglected Guienne, against which his enemies directed
their principal efforts. The chief men of Bordeaux and Bayonne and
the noblesse, true to the English crown, came to the festivity which
Edward gave on the occasion of his instituting the order of the Garter,
and their representations made so great an impression on him, that he
despatched Lord Derby soon after, with three hundred knights, six hundred
men-at-arms, and a greater number of infantry, to Bayonne. The French,
not in force to defend the country south of the Dordogne, endeavoured to
prevent Lord Derby from passing that river at Bergerac, and marching to
the recovery of Périgord and the districts north of Bordeaux. The English
accomplished this, the Genoese alone withstanding their arrows, and the
troops which the French had raised in the county flying before them.
Derby marched into Périgord, and so well provided was he with what
Froissart calls artillery, his engines throwing immense stones, that
all the fortresses in upper Gascony submitted to him. The strongest of
these was Auberoche, which fortress, as soon as Derby retired for the
winter to Bordeaux, the nobles of the county in the French interest came
to besiege. There were ten or twelve hundred of them, and Auberoche was
hard pressed. Lord Derby and Sir Walter Manny instantly left Bordeaux,
with three hundred lances and six hundred archers, and, with this small
force, surprised and fell upon the army besieging Auberoche at the time
of supper. The French were routed, and all the chief nobles of the
district taken: every English soldier had two or three. The consequence
of this victory was not only the fall of Réole and the places held by
Philip north of the Garonne, but the capture of the important town of
Angoulême by Lord Derby. The general submission to the English commander
was not only due to his prowess, but to his _gentillesse_, in preventing
his soldiers from pillaging and burning the towns and massacring the
prisoners, as was then generally the custom in war.
[Sidenote: [1345-1346 A.D.]]
Whilst Lord Derby was reconquering Angoulême, Edward was endeavouring,
by means of Artevelde, to turn the Flemish alliance to profit.
Notwithstanding the English king’s assumption of the arms and title of
king of France, the Flemings seemed not disposed to go much further than
neutrality. Artevelde himself ruling by the democracy, with the rich
citizens opposed to him, felt himself neither secure at home nor able
to direct the forces of the Flemings abroad. In order to strengthen his
position, he proposed making the son of Edward (the Black Prince) count
of Flanders. The English king came with his fleet to Sluys, and had an
interview there with the town magistrates of the Flemings; they could
not entertain his proposal without first consulting their townsmen. The
people of Bruges and Ypres were not averse to having the prince of Wales
for their count; but with Ghent it was otherwise: there the enemies of
Artevelde accused him of wishing to sell his country to the foreigner.
They asked what had been done with all the money proceeding from the
revenues that had been sequestered. The “great treasure,” they said,
had been despatched to England. Artevelde hastened to Ghent to face his
enemies, and refute them; but he had no sooner entered the streets than
he perceived the efforts of his enemies to have prevailed, and the minds
of his fellow-townsmen turned against him. He shut himself up in his
hôtel; harangued and tried to move the crowd from one of the windows.
Their reply was, “Give us an account of the great treasure of Flanders.”
Artevelde promised that he would do this fully on the morrow. “No,”
replied the crowd; “we must have an account of it immediately, lest
you escape to England, whither you have already sent your treasure.”
Artevelde then wept, and reproached them with “having made him what he
was, and now wanting to kill him. Recollect that your trade was lost when
I took the government, and that I recovered all for you--procured you
abundance, and work, and peace; and for all the great good I did you, God
knows I obtained little profit.” Such reproaches were not calculated to
move the mob, which clamoured but the more. Artevelde tried to escape to
a neighbouring church; but his enemies seized him in the street, and slew
him without mercy. Edward’s first movement was to take vengeance on the
Flemings for the death of their leader; but the towns of West Flanders
convinced him that they regretted the act of the people of Ghent as much
as he did.
EDWARD RETURNS TO FRANCE (1346 A.D.)
The reverses which the French monarch suffered in Guienne had been thus
compensated by Edward’s loss of his Flemish ally, and, at the same time,
by the death of John de Montfort. That prince, after his escape from the
Louvre, had led succours from England to Brittany, but was able to do
little towards changing the aspect of affairs or the relative position
of parties, when he died at Hennebon. All the efforts of Philip were
directed towards repelling Lord Derby. The French king assembled his
estates in the north and in the south, but more to appease discontent
than to command succour or adhesion: he merely proposed continuing his
present levies of money, on the understanding that they were to cease at
the peace. An army was collected and sent, under the duke of Normandy,
to the south. He recovered Angoulême, and laid siege to Aiguillon, an
important fortress not far from Agen; but Sir Walter Manny and Lord
Pembroke were within the walls, and infused such spirit into the garrison
that during four months it defied the duke of Normandy and his army, said
to number one hundred thousand men.
The obstinacy of the siege as well as the defence induced the English
king to march to the succour of his general, for Lord Derby at Bordeaux
had no force sufficient to encounter the duke of Normandy. An expedition
was fitted out, at Southampton, consisting of four thousand men-at-arms
and ten thousand archers, besides the Irish and Welsh.[b]
The English fleet set sail for the mouth of the Gironde, where a tempest
hurled it back into the Channel. A new traitor, Godfrey d’Harcourt,
advised landing in Normandy, and promised the aid of his vassals and
the use of his entire province. The king landed (July 22nd, 1346), with
thirty-two thousand men, at La Hogue St. Waast, in the Cotentin. He
easily possessed himself of Barfleur, Cherbourg, Valognes, and St. Lô.
The 26th, he was at the walls of Caen--a city larger than any in England
excepting London.
The inhabitants sallied forth bravely to the encounter. “But as soon as
they beheld the approach of the English,” says Froissart,[e] “in three
divisions, close and compact, a multitude of banners flying, and saw the
archers, to whom they had not been accustomed, they were so frightened
that they betook themselves to flight, and not all the world could have
stopped them.”
The English entered the city with the fugitives, slaying as they went,
showing mercy to none. But the inhabitants recovered their courage and
defended themselves in their homes; more than five hundred English
were dead or wounded when Edward put an end to the fighting, promising
the inhabitants to spare their lives.[18] Louviers, which was already
great, wealthy, and commercial, was next taken. An attempt on Rouen
had miscarried. He returned along the left bank of the Seine, burning
Pont-de-l’Arche, Vernon, Poissy, and St. Germain. His couriers came
within sight of Paris, and burned Bourg-la-Reine and St. Cloud.
Hereupon Philip assembled a large force and marched on the English.
Edward rebuilt the bridge at Poissy and by it passed over the Seine and
retreated to his fief at Ponthieu, to establish himself beyond the Somme.
Philip fortified and sentinelled all the fords of that river. At that of
Blanquetaque he posted one thousand men-at-arms and five thousand Genoese
archers. Edward forced a passage; but realising that he could retreat
no further he halted, and on the 27th of August disposed his army for
battle on the slope of a hill near Crécy, his men being in good order and
condition.[g] His knights and nobles were to fight on foot, there being
but four thousand of them.
The total English army must have numbered from twenty-five to thirty
thousand combatants. Froissart evidently underestimates its size as he
increases the total of the French force, doubtless in order to make the
issue of the battle all the more marvellous.
But all exaggeration aside, the disproportion was enormous. Philip
marched at the head of at least seventy thousand men among whom were
about ten thousand men-at-arms, and a large body of Genoese archers whose
numbers have been placed at from six to fifteen thousand.[d] But the
French were a disorderly and undisciplined host while the English were
professional soldiers and old campaigners, obedient to their chiefs and
their sovereign.[b]
Philip had left Abbeville in the morning to go in quest of the enemy,
then five miles distant. Heavy rains impeded the march. Four scouts sent
to reconnoitre returned with the report that they had found the English
waiting in the position they had chosen; and they counselled the king to
allow his soldiers a night’s repose.
Philip gave the order to halt. But the great lords of France, instigated
by vanity, moved one ahead of another, to get nearer the enemy. Neither
the king nor his marshals could exercise any control over the troops,
on account of the multitude of nobles each striving to assert his own
authority. These rode about, without orders and without discretion, until
they stumbled suddenly upon the camp of the enemy.[g]
FROISSART’S DESCRIPTION OF CRÉCY (1346 A.D.)
[Illustration: A FRENCH KNIGHT OF THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY]
The English, who were drawn up in three divisions, and seated on the
ground, on seeing their enemies advance, rose undauntedly up, and fell
into their ranks. That of the prince[19] was the first to do so, whose
archers were formed in the manner of a portcullis, or harrow, and the
men-at-arms in the rear. The earls of Northampton and Arundel, who
commanded the second division, had posted themselves in good order on his
wing, to assist and succour the prince, if necessary.
You must know that these kings, earls, barons, and lords of France
did not advance in any regular order, but one after the other, or any
way most pleasing to themselves. As soon as the king of France came
in sight of the English, his blood began to boil, and he cried out to
his marshals, “Order the Genoese forward, and begin the battle, in the
name of God and St. Denis.” There were about fifteen thousand Genoese
crossbow-men; but they were quite fatigued, having marched on foot that
day six leagues, completely armed, and with their crossbows. They told
the constable, they were not in a fit condition to do any great things
that day in battle. The earl of Alençon, hearing this, said, “This is
what one gets by employing such scoundrels, who fall off when there is
any need for them.” During this time a heavy rain fell, accompanied by
thunder and a very terrible eclipse of the sun; and before this rain
a great flight of crows hovered in the air over all those battalions,
making a loud noise. Shortly afterwards it cleared up, and the sun shone
very bright; but the Frenchmen had it in their faces, and the English
in their backs. When the Genoese were somewhat in order, and approached
the English, they set up a loud shout, in order to frighten them; but
they remained quite still, and did not seem to attend to it. They then
set up a second shout, and advanced a little forward; but the English
never moved. They hooted a third time, advancing with their crossbows
presented, and began to shoot. The English archers then advanced one
step forward, and shot their arrows with such force and quickness, that
it seemed as if it snowed. When the Genoese felt these arrows, which
pierced their arms, heads, and through their armour, some of them cut
the strings of their crossbows, others flung them on the ground, and all
turned about and retreated quite discomfited. The French had a large body
of men-at-arms on horseback, richly dressed, to support the Genoese. The
king of France, seeing them thus fall back, cried out, “Kill me those
scoundrels; for they stop up our road without any reason.” You would then
have seen the above-mentioned men-at-arms lay about them, killing all
they could of these runaways.
The English continued shooting as vigorously and quickly as before; some
of their arrows fell among the horsemen, who were sumptuously equipped,
and, killing and wounding many, made them caper and fall among the
Genoese, so that they were in such confusion they could never rally
again. In the English army there were some Cornish and Welshmen on foot,
who had armed themselves with large knives; these, advancing through
the ranks of the men-at-arms and archers, who made way for them, came
upon the French when they were in this danger, and, falling upon earls,
barons, knights, and squires, slew many, at which the king of England was
afterwards much exasperated. The valiant king of Bohemia was slain there.
He was called John of Luxemburg; for he was the son of the gallant king
and emperor, Henry of Luxemburg; having heard the order of the battle,
he inquired where his son the lord Charles was; his attendants answered
that they did not know, but believed he was fighting. The king said to
them: “Gentlemen, you are all my people, my friends, and brethren-at-arms
this day; therefore, as I am blind,[20] I request of you to lead me so
far into the engagement that I may strike one stroke with my sword.”
The knights replied, they would directly lead him forward; and in order
that they might not lose him in the crowd, they fastened all the reins
of their horses together, and put the king at their head, that he might
gratify his wish, and advanced towards the enemy. The lord Charles of
Bohemia, who already signed his name as king of Germany, and bore the
arms, had come in good order to the engagement; but when he perceived
that it was likely to turn out against the French, he departed, and I
do not well know what road he took. The king, his father, had ridden
in among the enemy, and made good use of his sword; for he and his
companions had fought most gallantly. They had advanced so far that they
were all slain; and on the morrow they were found on the ground, with
their horses all tied together.
The earl of Alençon advanced in regular order upon the English, to fight
with them; as did the earl of Flanders, in another part. These two lords,
with their detachments, coasting, as it were, the archers, came to the
prince’s battalion, where they fought valiantly for a length of time. The
king of France was eager to march to the place where he saw their banners
displayed, but there was a hedge of archers before him. He had that day
made a present of a handsome black horse to Sir John of Hainault, who had
mounted on it a knight of his, called Sir John de Fusselles, that bore
his banner; which horse ran off with him, and forced his way through the
English army, and, when about to return, stumbled and fell into a ditch
and severely wounded him; he would have been dead, if his page had not
followed him round the battalions, and found him unable to rise; he had
not, however, any other hindrance than from his horse; for the English
did not quit the ranks that day to make prisoners. The page alighted, and
raised him up; but he did not return the way he came, as he would have
found it difficult from the crowd. This battle, which was fought on the
Saturday between La Broyes and Crécy, was very murderous and cruel; and
many gallant deeds of arms were performed that were never known. Towards
evening, many knights and squires of the French had lost their masters;
they wandered up and down the plain, attacking the English in small
parties; they were soon destroyed; for the English had determined that
day to give no quarter, or hear of ransom from anyone.
Early in the day, some French, Germans, and Savoyards had broken
through the archers of the prince’s battalion, and had engaged with the
men-at-arms; upon which the second battalion came to his aid, and it was
time, for otherwise he would have been hard pressed. The first division,
seeing the danger they were in, sent a knight in great haste to the king
of England, who was posted upon an eminence, near a windmill. On the
knight’s arrival, he said, “Sir, the earl of Warwick, the lord Stafford,
the lord Reginald Cobham, and the others who are about your son, are
vigorously attacked by the French; and they entreat that you would come
to their assistance with your battalion, for, if their numbers should
increase, they fear he will have too much to do.” The king replied,
“Is my son dead, unhorsed, or so badly wounded that he cannot support
himself?” “Nothing of the sort, thank God,” rejoined the knight; “but
he is in so hot an engagement that he has great need of your help.” The
king answered, “Now, Sir Thomas, return back to those that sent you, and
tell them from me, not to send again for me this day, or expect that I
shall come, let what will happen, as long as my son has life; and say,
that I command them to let the boy win his spurs; for I am determined, if
it please God, that all the glory and honour of this day shall be given
to him, and to those into whose care I have intrusted him.” The knight
returned to his lords, and related the king’s answer, which mightily
encouraged them, and made them repent they had ever sent such a message.
It is a certain fact that Sir Godfrey d’Harcourt, who was in the prince’s
battalion, having been told by some of the English that they had seen the
banner of his brother engaged in the battle against him, was exceedingly
anxious to save him; but he was too late, for he was left dead on the
field, and so was the earl of Aumarle his nephew. On the other hand,
the earls of Alençon and of Flanders were fighting lustily under their
banners, and with their own people; but they could not resist the force
of the English, and were there slain, as well as many other knights
and squires that were attending on or accompanying them. The earl of
Blois, nephew to the king of France, and the duke of Lorraine his
brother-in-law, with their troops, made a gallant defence; but they were
surrounded by a troop of English and Welsh, and slain in spite of their
prowess. The earl of Saint-Pol and the earl of Auxerre were also killed,
as well as many others. Late after vespers, the king of France had not
more about him than sixty men, every one included. Sir John of Hainault,
who was of the number, had once remounted the king; for his horse had
been killed under him by an arrow; he said to the king, “Sir, retreat
whilst you have an opportunity, and do not expose yourself so simply; if
you have lost this battle, another time you will be the conqueror.” After
he had said this, he took the bridle of the king’s horse, and led him off
by force; for he had before entreated of him to retire. The king rode
on until he came to the castle of La Broyes, where he found the gates
shut, for it was very dark. The king ordered the governor of it to be
summoned; he came upon the battlements, and asked who it was that called
at such an hour? The king answered, “Open, open, governor; it is the
fortune of France.” The governor, hearing the king’s voice, immediately
descended, opened the gate, and let down the bridge. The king and his
company entered the castle; but he had with him only five barons, Sir
John of Hainault, the lord Charles of Montmorency, the lord of Beaujeu,
the lord of Aubigny, and the lord of Montfort. The king would not bury
himself in such a place as that, but, having taken some refreshments,
set out again with his attendants about midnight, and rode on, under the
direction of guides who were well acquainted with the country, until,
about daybreak, he came to Amiens, where he halted. This Saturday the
English never quitted their ranks in pursuit of anyone, but remained on
the field, guarding their position, and defending themselves against all
who attacked them.
[Illustration: RUINS OF A FRENCH TOWER OF THE THIRTEENTH OR FOURTEENTH
CENTURY]
The battle was ended at the hour of vespers. When, on this Saturday
night, the English heard no more hooting or shouting, nor crying out to
particular lords or their banners, they looked upon the field as their
own, and their enemies as beaten. They made great fires, and lighted
torches because of the obscurity of the night. King Edward then came down
from his post, who all that day had not put on his helmet, and, with his
whole battalion, advanced to the prince of Wales, whom he embraced in his
arms and kissed, and said, “Sweet son, God give you good perseverance:
you are my son, for most loyally have you acquitted yourself this day:
you are worthy to be a sovereign.” The prince bowed down very low, and
humbled himself, giving all honour to the king his father. The English,
during the night, made frequent thanksgivings to the Lord, for the happy
issue of the day, and without rioting; for the king had forbidden all
riot or noise. On the Sunday morning, there was so great a fog that
one could scarcely see the distance of half an acre. The king ordered
a detachment from the army, under the command of the two marshals,
consisting of about five hundred lances and two thousand archers, to
make an excursion, and see if there were any bodies of French collected
together. The quota of troops, from Rouen and Beauvais, had, this Sunday
morning, left Abbeville and St. Ricquier in Ponthieu, to join the French
army, and were ignorant of the defeat of the preceding evening: they met
this detachment, and, thinking they must be French, hastened to join them.
As soon as the English found who they were, they fell upon them; and
there was a sharp engagement; but the French soon turned their backs,
and fled in great disorder. There were slain in this flight in the open
fields, under hedges and bushes, upwards of seven thousand; and had it
been clear weather, not one soul would have escaped.
A little time afterwards, this same party fell in with the archbishop
of Rouen and the great prior of France, who were also ignorant of the
discomfiture of the French; for they had been informed that the king was
not to fight before Sunday. Here began a fresh battle, for those two
lords were well attended by good men-at-arms; however, they could not
withstand the English, but were almost all slain, with the two chiefs
who commanded them, very few escaping. In the course of the morning, the
English found many Frenchmen who had lost their road on the Saturday, and
had lain in the open fields, not knowing what was become of the king, or
their own leaders. The English put to the sword all they met[21]: and
it has been assured to me for fact, that of foot-soldiers sent from the
cities, towns, and municipalities, there were slain, this Sunday morning,
four times as many as in the battle of the Saturday.[e]
MICHELET ON THE RESULTS OF CRÉCY
The battle of Crécy was not merely a battle; the event involved a great
social revolution. The whole chivalry of the most chivalrous nation was
exterminated by a small band of foot-soldiers. A new system of tactics
came forth from a new state of society; it was not a work of genius or
reflection. Edward III employed foot-soldiers for want of horse. The
issue revealed a fact of which no one dreamed till then; namely, the
military inefficiency of that feudal world which had thought itself
the only military world. The private wars of the barons, and of canton
against canton, in the primitive isolation of the Middle Ages, had not
disclosed this truth; for then gentlemen were defeated only by gentlemen.
Two centuries of defeats, during the Crusades, had not damaged their
reputation. All Christendom was interested in disguising the successes
of the misbelievers. Besides, these wars were waged so far away, that
there was always some means of excusing every disaster: the heroism of a
Godefroy and a Richard redeemed all the rest. In the thirteenth century,
when the feudal banners were habituated to follow the king’s, when out
of so many seigniorial courts was formed a single one, brilliant beyond
all the fictions of the romances, the nobles, diminished in power,
increased in pride; humbled in their own person, they felt themselves
exalted in their king. They valued themselves more or less in proportion
as they shared in the galas of royalty.
In excuse for the disaster of Courtrai, the nobles pleaded their own
hare-brained heroism, and the Flemish ditch. Two easy massacres at
Mons-en-Pévêlle and Cassel retrieved their reputation. For several years
they railed at the king, who forbade them to vanquish. An opportunity
was afforded them at Crécy; the whole chivalry of the kingdom was
there assembled; every banner flaunted in the wind, with all those
haughty blazons, lions, eagles, castles, besants of the Crusades, and
all the arrogant symbolism of heraldry. Opposed to this gallant array,
excepting four thousand men-at-arms, all the rest were the barefooted
English commons, the rude mountaineers of Wales, and the swineherds of
Ireland, blind and savage races, that knew neither French, nor English,
nor chivalry. They aimed none the worse for this at noble banners;
they killed but so much the more: there was no common tongue in which
to parley. The Welshman or Irishman did not understand the noble baron
prostrate beneath him, who offered to make him rich, and he made answer
only with the knife.
From that day forth there was many an unbeliever in the religion of
nobility. Armorial symbolism lost all its effect. Man began to doubt that
those lions could bite, or those silken dragons vomit forth fire and
flames. The cow of Switzerland and of Wales seemed good armorial bearings
too.
THE SIEGE OF CALAIS
This huge disaster only led the way to a greater one. Edward laid siege
to Calais, and set himself down before it in fixed quarters for life or
death. After the sacrifices he had made for this expedition he could
not show his face to the commons until he should have accomplished his
enterprise. Round the town he built a second town with streets, and
wooden houses solidly and snugly constructed, to serve for residence
through summer and winter.
The Englishman, established in good quarters, and with abundant supplies,
let those within and without the town do what they had a mind. He did
not even grant them battle, but preferred starving them out. Five
hundred persons, men, women, and children, expelled from the town by
the governor, died of cold and hunger between the town and the camp.
Such, at least, is the statement of the English historian Knighton.[i]
Froissart[e] says, on the contrary, that he not only let them pass
through his army, but also gave them an abundant repast.
Edward had taken root before Calais, nor was the pope’s mediation capable
of forcing him from thence. News was brought him that the Scotch were
about to invade England. He never stirred. His perseverance was rewarded,
for he soon learned that his troops, encouraged by his queen, had taken
the king of Scotland prisoner. The next year Charles of Blois was
likewise taken in besieging La Roche de Rien. Edward had but to fold his
arms and leave fortune to work for him.
It was matter of most urgent necessity for the king of France to succour
Calais; but so great was his penury, so inert and embarrassed was
that feudal monarchy, that it was not until the siege had lasted ten
months that he was able to put himself in motion, when the English
were fortified and intrenched behind palisades and deep ditches. Having
scraped together some money by a debasement of the coinage, the gabelle,
the ecclesiastical tithes, and the confiscation of the property of the
Lombards, he at last began his march with a huge army like that which had
been beaten at Crécy. He had no way of reaching Calais except through
marshes or over sand-hills. To take the former course would have been
certain destruction, for all the passes were intersected and guarded. The
men of Tournay, however, gallantly carried a castle by assault, without
machines and by strength of hand alone.
[Sidenote: [1346-1347 A.D.]]
The downs on the coast of Boulogne were under the fire of the English
fleet. Those about Gravelines were kept by the Flemings whom the king
could not suborn. He offered them heaps of gold, and the surrender of
Lille, Béthune, and Douai; he would enrich their burgomasters, and make
knights and lords of their young men. Nothing could tempt them; they
were too much afraid of the return of their count, who, after a false
reconciliation, had again escaped out of their hands. Philip could do
nothing. He negotiated, he challenged; Edward remained unmoved.[22]
Horrible was the despair in the famished town when they saw all those
banners of France, all that great army marching away and leaving them
to their fate. Nothing remained for the people of Calais but to give
themselves up to the enemy if he would condescend to accept their
surrender. It was probable enough that the king of England, who had
passed such a tedious time before Calais, who had sat down a whole year
there, and spent in one campaign the enormous sum for those days of
nearly £400,000 sterling, would give himself the satisfaction of putting
the inhabitants to the sword, whereby he would certainly have gratified
the English merchants. But Edward’s knights told him flatly that if
he treated the besieged in that manner his own men would never again
venture to shut themselves up in fortresses for fear of reprisal. He gave
way, and condescended to admit the town to mercy, provided some of the
principal townspeople came, according to custom, bareheaded and barefoot,
with ropes round their necks, and presented the keys to him.
There was danger for those who should first appear in the king’s
presence. There were instantly found in that little town, depopulated
as it was by famine, six volunteers to save the rest. Nevertheless,
the queen and the knights had to intercede with Edward, to prevent his
hanging those gallant fellows.[f]
Thus did Calais fall into the hands of England a year after the battle
of Crécy. Edward, according to Walsingham,[j] spent a month in the town,
ordering and fortifying it. He sent all the knights captive to England,
and expelled a certain number of the other French townsmen, replacing
them by English. He induced thirty-six rich citizens of London, with
their families, to settle there, with three hundred of lesser condition,
bestowing upon them several privileges and advantages. He fixed at Calais
the staple of tin, lead, and woollen cloth, and prohibited all persons
from exporting or shipping these commodities to England, unless they
took oath to unship them at Calais. Eustace of St. Pierre was amongst
the French citizens who remained and recovered their property, on
transferring their allegiance to the English king. His heirs afterwards
forfeited the property by refusing this allegiance.
SUSPENSION OF THE WAR (1347 A.D.)
[Sidenote: [1347-1348 A.D.]]
The papal legates seized this opportunity of renewing their efforts to
bring about an accommodation between the monarchs. The capture of Calais,
indeed, rendered terms of peace more difficult to arrange; but that
event, with the campaign which preceded it, rendered a peace desirable
on both sides. Edward consented, although Rymer contains many proofs of
his intention to sail again to the continent and renew the war. The truce
was at first concluded for ten months, but was extended from time to
time, the monarchs being occupied with other cares. It was a cessation
but from great expeditions and large armies, for partisans on both sides
did not relax in their schemes to surprise and their efforts to hurt.
Although Scotland was included in the truce, Douglas would not keep
the peace; neither would French or English in Gascony. The _brigands_,
as foot-soldiers were called, associated in bands of thirty or forty
to pillage towns, surprise castles, and then sell them for large sums.
King Philip did not disdain to purchase the castle of Combourne from the
brigand Bacon, for 24,000 livres. This brigand, says Froissart, “was as
well armed and mounted as any knight in the army, and in as great honour
with the king.”
The truce was not even observed between the now hostile towns of Calais
and St. Omer. Geoffrey of Charny, who commanded for Philip in the
latter place, hearing that Edward had intrusted the command in Calais
to an Italian, Aimery di Pavia, made offers of many thousand florins,
if he would betray the town. Pavia pretended to consent, but warned
Edward, who came with his son, the Black Prince, and a body of archers
and men-at-arms. Pavia, by the king’s order, allowed a division of the
French to pass the bridge and enter the fortifications, where they were
instantly surrounded and taken prisoners. And then Edward and his son
attacked the French under Charny, routing, slaying, and capturing the
greater number. The king himself in the fray had a personal encounter
with Eustace de Ribeaumont, whom he compelled to surrender, and to whom
he afterwards presented a chaplet adorned with pearls, as a token of
friendship and admiration.
In Brittany the lieutenants of King Philip were not more successful than
at Calais. Charles of Blois himself had set the truce at naught by an
attack upon the castle La Roche de Rien. Whilst thus engaged, he was come
upon unawares by the forces of the De Montfort party, his army routed,
himself severely wounded, and taken prisoner (1347). From Brittany he was
sent to England.
A more general renewal of the war was rendered impossible by the eruption
of the plague, which in the summer of 1348 carried off large numbers,
first in the south of France,[23] from whence it extended to Paris and
the towns of the north. Tumours under the arms and in the groin were
the peculiarities of the disease, which almost always proved fatal. Out
of twenty persons in a village, says a chronicler, not two remained.
The towns of the south were especially depopulated, such as Marbonne,
Montpellier, and Avignon. The Laura of Petrarch was amongst the victims.
Eight hundred died each day in Paris, where the loss could not have been
less than one hundred thousand. Amongst the consequences of the epidemic
are mentioned a great scarcity of provisions and a complete suspense of
education from the lack of teachers.
TERRITORIAL ACQUISITION
[Sidenote: [1343-1348 A.D.]]
Whilst France was thus ravaged by pestilence and humiliated by defeat,
Philip succeeded in annexing to the monarchy the important province of
Dauphiné, which lay between its possessions of Burgundy and Provence, and
gave France the entire region westward of the Alps. The two contiguous
principalities and dynasties of Savoy and of Dauphiné had started up and
grown together in continued rivalry. Although the Savoy princes were
defeated in one great battle they were still more than a match for the
dauphins, as the princes who kept their court at Vienne were called from
the arms they had assumed. The dauphin had recourse to the aid of the
king of France; and, by degrees, the protection which these afforded grew
into suzerainty. Humbert, the last dauphin, was a strange and capricious
character; he had the misfortune to have let fall from a window of his
castle his only son, the child being dashed to pieces as he fell. This
misfortune disturbed the reason of the prince, who determined to proceed
to the Holy Land and sell or mortgage his possessions in order to raise
funds for the purpose. He began by selling lands, which he possessed in
Normandy, to John, duke of this province. At last the dauphin consented
to sell the reversion of the principality. He agreed to appoint the
second son of Philip of Valois, Philip of Orleans, as his future heir, in
the event of his having no children.
This treaty, so advantageous to France, was concluded in 1343, and
Humbert took his departure for Palestine. None ever expected to see the
return of so witless a prince. The dauphin, however, did return, not only
to resume the government of his paternal dominion, but to regret the
reckless manner in which he had alienated the independence of Dauphiné.
He began to seek to extricate himself from his engagements. Edward III
tried to induce the emperor of Germany to confer upon Humbert the title
of king; but, surrounded by the power and the emissaries of France,
the dauphin was not able to shake off his dependency. He was finally
(1349) induced to transfer his adoption to Charles, son of John, duke
of Normandy, heir to the French throne. This was the future Charles V.
Having accomplished this act, Humbert withdrew to a convent, whilst young
Charles assumed the title of dauphin, which was afterwards borne by the
heir to the throne, and the possession of that rich province.[b]
The money spent in the purchase of Dauphiné was at least well spent
for France. A few days after the definite treaty with Humbert, Philip
made another useful acquisition: he bought the lordship of Montpellier
from the last king of Majorca, James II. This prince, despoiled of the
Balearic Isles, Roussillon, and Cerdagne, by his cousin, the king of
Aragon, sold Montpellier in order to raise an army with which to recover
his realm. Don James was beaten and killed; Montpellier remained to
France.[d]
The plague of this year had been peculiarly fatal to princesses. The
queen of France, Joan of Burgundy, the duchess of Normandy, wife of
Prince John and daughter of the king of Bohemia, the queen of Navarre,
daughter of Louis Hutin, perished under its influence. But no sooner
had the pestilence disappeared, than marriage and its accompanying
festivities became the order of the day. “The world,” says the
chronicler, “was renewed, but, unfortunately, not bettered; the enemies
of France and of the church were no fewer, nor less powerful.”
[Sidenote: [1348-1350 A.D.]]
King Philip espoused a young wife, daughter of the queen of Navarre, just
deceased. This princess, Blanche by name, had been destined to the duke
of Normandy; but the king, his father, found her beautiful, and married
her himself. The duke of Normandy married a duchess of Burgundy, and the
dauphin, Charles, espoused a daughter of the duke of Bourbon. Thus were
celebrated the marriages of three generations of princes.
Philip of Valois did not long survive his marriage with Blanche. He fell
ill, and expired at Nogent in August, 1350. The continuator of Nangis[c]
relates that he called his sons, the duke of Normandy, and Philip of
Orleans, afterwards of Valois, to his bedside, and pointed out to them
the validity of his right to the crown, and the necessity of defending it
strenuously, and without any concession, against Edward of England, with
whom the truce was about to expire.
Philip of Valois was the first prince of truly chivalrous spirit that
ascended the throne of France. Unfortunately for him, he succeeded at a
period when chivalry was insufficient either to illustrate the warrior
or achieve great results in war. Unfortunately, too, he derived from his
predecessors those unscrupulous habits of wreaking vengeance and spilling
blood, which they were taught to consider their sovereign right, as if
royal power and descent cancelled every crime, and consecrated even the
basest treachery and felony. French kings are lauded by their countrymen
for having considered themselves above feudalism. Feudalism, however, had
its laws of honour and its sense of right; with these, unfortunately,
French kings too soon and too completely dispensed.[b]
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES
[16] [Charles intrusted the siege to Louis of Spain, a descendant of
Ferdinand de la Cerda--eldest son of Alfonso the Learned. Ferdinand’s
sons had been set aside in favour of their uncle. Some of this family
took up their residence in France. This Louis de la Cerda was Ferdinand’s
grandson. In 1341 he received the title of “Admiral of France.”]
[17] Lord Berners reads, “She caused damoselles and other women _to
cut shorte their kyrtels_,” instead of “to unpave the streets,” as Mr.
Johnes translates it. The words in D. Sauvage’s edition are “_dépecer
les chaussées_,” to tear up the causeways, but when we consider that the
streets of cities were very rarely paved at this period, Lord Berners’
version appears the more probable, and may be reconciled to the text if
we read “_chausses_” for “_chaussées_,” which is not unlikely to be an
error in transcribing.
[18] [Among the captures at Caen, was a document dated 1338, wherein
the Normans offered Philip to reconquer England at their own cost, on
condition he would reportion it among them after the fashion of William
the Conqueror. It was used with good effect in rousing English spirit and
continuing the wars. Some authorities regard it as a forgery.]
[19] [Prince Edward of Wales--the famous “Black Prince.” He was but
thirteen years old and only nominally in command of the first line under
the guardianship of the earl of Warwick and Godfrey d’Harcourt.]
[20] [His blindness was supposed to have been caused by poison, which was
alleged to have been given to him when engaged in the wars of Italy.]
[21] [According to Froissart the English reconnoitring party slaughtered
7,000 in the fog. He declares that more perished on this Sunday than on
the day of battle. The clerks sent by Edward to tally the dead reported
11 princes, 80 bannerets, 1,200 simple knights, and above 30,000 common
men.]
[22] Edward announces in a letter to the archbishop of York that he had
accepted the challenge, and that the fight did not take place, because
Philip marched off precipitately before the day, after having set fire to
his camp.
[23] [It had spread to France from Italy where its ravages were no less
appalling. An extended notice of it is given in our history of Italy,
Volume IX, where Boccaccio’s vivid description of its terrors may be
found.]
[Illustration]