to the King of France, and to the greater part of the princes and barons
who were prisoners. The prince seated the King of France and his son
the Lord Philip at an elevated and well-covered table: with them were
Sir James de Bourbon, the Lord John d’Artois, the Earls of Tancarville,
of Estampes, of Dammartin, of Graville, and the Lord of Partenay. The
other knights and squires were placed at different tables. The prince
himself served the king’s table, as well as the others, with every mark
of humility, and would not sit down at it, in spite of all his
entreaties for him so to do, saying that he was not worthy of such an
honor, nor did it appertain to him to seat himself at the table of so
great a king, or of so valiant a man as he had shown himself by his
actions that day. He added also with a noble air, “Dear sir, do not make
a poor meal because the Almighty God has not gratified your wishes in
the event of this day; for be assured that my lord and father will show
you every honor and friendship in his power, and will arrange your
ransom so reasonably that you will henceforward always remain friends.
In my opinion, you have cause to be glad that the success of this battle
did not turn out as you desired; for you have this day acquired such
high renown for prowess, that you have surpassed all the best knights on
your side. I do not, dear sir, say this to flatter you; for all those of
our side who have seen and observed the actions of each party have
unanimously allowed this to be your due, and decree you the prize and
garland for it.” At the end of this speech there were murmurs of praise
heard from every one; and the French said the prince had spoken nobly
and truly, and that he would be one of the most gallant princes in
Christendom, if God should grant him life to pursue his career of
glory.
CHAPTER LXXXIII.
THE PRINCE OF WALES RETURNS TO BORDEAUX, AFTER THE BATTLE OF POITIERS.
When they had supped and sufficiently regaled themselves, each departed
to his lodging with the knights and squires they had captured. Those
that had taken them asked what they could pay for their ransoms without
much hurting their fortunes, and willingly believed whatever they told
them; for they had declared publicly, that they did not wish to deal
harshly with any knight or squire, that his ransom should be so
burdensome as to prevent his following the profession of arms, or
advancing his fortune. Toward morning, when these lords had heard mass,
and had eaten and drunk a little, while the servants were packing up or
loading the baggage, they decamped and advanced toward Poitiers.
That same night the Lord of Roye had entered the city of Poitiers with a
hundred lances that had not been engaged in the battle; for, having met
the Duke of Normandy near Chauvigny, he had commanded him to march for
Poitiers, and to guard it until he should receive other orders. When the
Lord of Roye had entered Poitiers, he ordered the gates, towers, and
walls to be well watched that night, on account of the English being so
near; and on the morning he armed all sorts of people, and posted them
wherever he judged most convenient for the defence of the town. The
English, however, passed by without making any attempt upon it; for they
were so laden with gold, silver, jewels, and great prisoners, that they
did not attack any fortress in their march, but thought they should do
great things if they were able to convey the King of France and his son,
with all their booty, in safety to the city of Bordeaux. They returned
therefore, by easy marches, on account of their prisoners and heavy
baggage, never advancing more than four or five leagues a day. They
encamped early, and marched in one compact body, without quitting the
road, except the division of the marshals, who advanced in front, with
about five hundred men at arms, to clear the country. They met with no
resistance anywhere; for the whole country was in a state of
consternation, and all the men at arms had retreated into the strong
fortresses.
During this march the Prince of Wales was informed how Lord James Audley
had made a present of his pension of five hundred marks to his four
squires. He sent for him. Lord James was carried in his litter to the
presence of the prince, who received him very graciously, and said to
him, “Sir James, I have been informed, that after you had taken leave of
me, and were returned to your tent, you made a present to your four
squires of the gift I presented to you. I should like to know, if this
be true, why you did so, and if the gift were not agreeable to
you.”--“Yes, my lord,” answered Lord James, “it was most agreeable to
me; and I will tell you the reasons which induced me to bestow it on my
squires. These four squires who are here have long and loyally served me
on many great and dangerous occasions; and, until the day that I made
them this present, I had not any way rewarded them for all their
services; and never in this life were they of such help to me as on that
day. I hold myself much bound to them for what they did at the battle of
Poitiers; for, dear sir, I am but a single man, and can do no more than
my powers admit; but through their aid and assistance I have
accomplished my vow, which for a long time I had made, and by their
means was the first combatant, and should have paid for it with my life
if they had not been near to me. When, therefore, I consider their
courage and the love they bear to me, I should not have been courteous
nor grateful if I had not rewarded them. Thank God! my lord, I have a
sufficiency for my life to maintain my state; and wealth has never yet
failed me, nor do I believe it ever will. If, therefore, I have in this
acted contrary to your wishes, I beseech you, dear sir, to pardon me;
for you will be ever as loyally served by me, and my squires to whom I
gave your present, as heretofore.” The prince answered, “Sir James, I do
not in the least blame you for what you have done, but, on the contrary,
acknowledge your bounty to your squires, whom you praise so much. I
readily confirm your gift to them, but I shall insist upon your
accepting of six hundred marks upon the same terms and conditions as the
former gift.”
The Prince of Wales and his army kept advancing without meeting any
obstacle; and, having passed through Poitou and Saintonge, came to
Blaye, where he crossed the Garonne, and arrived in the good city of
Bordeaux. It is not possible to relate all the feasts and entertainments
which the citizens and clergy of Bordeaux made for the prince, and with
what joy they received him and the King of France. The prince conducted
the king to the monastery of St. Andrew, where they were both lodged;
the king on one side, and the prince on the other. The prince purchased
from the barons, knights, and squires of Gascony the ransoms of the
greater part of the French earls who were there, and paid ready money
for them. There were many meetings and disputes among the knights and
squires of Gascony, and others, relative to the capture of the King of
France. On this account Denys de Morbeque truly and by right of arms
claimed him. He challenged another squire of Gascony, named Bernard de
Trouttes, who had declared that he had an equal right to him. There was
much disputing between them before the prince and the barons present;
and, as they had engaged to fight each other, the prince put them under
an arrest until they should be arrived in England, and forbade any thing
more being said on the subject till they were in the presence of the
king his father. However, as the King of France gave every assistance to
Sir Denys in support of his claim, and leaned more to him than to any of
the other claimants, the prince ordered two thousand nobles to be given
privately to Sir Denys in order to enable him the better to support his
rank.
Soon after the prince’s arrival at Bordeaux the Cardinal de Perigord
came thither, as, it was said, ambassador from the pope. It was upward
of a fortnight before the prince would speak to him, on account of the
castellan of Amposta and his people having been engaged against him at
the battle of Poitiers. The prince believed that the cardinal had sent
them thither; but the cardinal, through the means of his relations, the
Lord of Chaumont, the Lord of Montferrant, and the Captal of Buch, gave
such good reasons for his conduct to the prince, that he admitted him to
an audience. Having obtained this, he exculpated himself so clearly that
the prince and his council were satisfied, and he regained the place he
before held in the prince’s affection. All his people were set at
liberty at moderate ransoms: the castellan’s amounted to ten thousand
francs, which he paid. The cardinal soon after began to touch upon the
deliverance of King John; but I shall say little on that head, as
nothing was done in the business. The prince, with his Gascons and
English, remained all that winter at Bordeaux, where was much feasting
and merriment; and they foolishly expended the gold and silver they had
gained. In England also there were great rejoicings when the news
arrived of the affair of Poitiers and of the defeat of the French;
solemn thanksgivings were offered up in all the churches, and bonfires
made in every town and village. Those knights and squires who returned
to England after having been in this battle were honored in preference
to any others.
CHAPTER LXXXIV.
THE PRINCE OF WALES CONDUCTS THE KING OF FRANCE FROM BORDEAUX TO
ENGLAND.
When the season was sufficiently advanced, and every thing was ready for
the prince’s departure, he sent for the great barons of Gascony. He then
informed them of his intention of going to England; that he should take
some of them with him, and the rest he should leave in different parts
of the province to guard the frontiers against the French, and should
put all the cities and castles under their management, as if they were
their own property. After this he nominated four of them as governors of
the country until his return,--the Lords d’Albret, de l’Esparre, de
Pumiers, and de Rosem. This being done, the prince embarked on board a
handsome ship, and took with him a great many Gascons: among them were
the Captal de Buch, Sir Aymery de Tarse, the Lord de Tarse, the Lord de
Landuras, the Lord de Mucident, the Souldich de la Trane, and many
others.
The King of France was in a ship by himself, in order that he might be
more at his ease. In the fleet there were five hundred men at arms and
two thousand archers to guard against any accidents at sea, and also
because the prince had been informed before he left Bordeaux that the
three estates who then governed France had raised two large armies,
which were posted in Normandy and at Crotoy to meet the English and to
carry off the king; but they saw nothing of them. They were eleven days
and nights at sea; and on the twelfth they arrived at Sandwich, where
they disembarked, and took up their quarters in the town and
neighborhood. They remained there two days to refresh themselves, and on
the third set out and came to Canterbury.
When the King of England was informed of their arrival, he gave orders
for the citizens of London to make such preparations as were suitable to
receive so great a prince as the King of France; upon which they all
dressed themselves very richly in companies, and the different
manufactories of cloth appeared with various pageants. The king and
prince remained one day at Canterbury, where they made their offerings
to the shrine of St. Thomas. On the morrow they rode to Rochester, where
they reposed themselves. The third day they came to Dartford, and the
fourth to London, where they were received with every honor and
distinction, as indeed they had been by all the chief towns on their
road.
The King of France, as he rode through London, was mounted on a white
steed with very rich furniture, and the Prince of Wales on a little
black hackney by his side. He rode through London, thus accompanied, to
the palace of the Savoy, which was part of the inheritance of the Duke
of Lancaster. There the King of France kept his household for some time;
and there he was visited by the King and Queen of England, who often
entertained him sumptuously, and afterwards were very frequent in their
visits, consoling him all in their power. The Cardinals de Perigord and
St. Vital soon after came to England by command of Pope Innocent VI.
They endeavored to make peace between the two kingdoms, which they
labored hard to effect, but without success. However, by some fortunate
means they procured a truce between the two kings and their allies, to
last until St. John the Baptist’s Day, 1359. The Lord Philip de Navarre
and his allies, the Countess of Montfort, and the Duchy of Brittany,
were excluded from this truce.
Shortly afterwards the King of France and all his household were removed
from the Palace of Savoy to Windsor Castle, where he was permitted to
hunt and hawk, and take what other diversions he pleased in that
neighborhood, as well as the Lord Philip his son. The rest of the French
lords remained at London; but they visited the king as often as they
pleased, and were prisoners on their parole of honor.
CHAPTER LXXXV.
THE ARCHPRIEST ASSEMBLES A COMPANY OF MEN AT ARMS.--HE IS MUCH HONORED
AT AVIGNON.
About this period,[26] a knight named Sir Arnold de Cervole, but more
commonly called the archpriest, collected a large body of men at arms,
who came from all parts, seeing that their pay would not be continued
in France, and that, since the capture of the king, there was not any
probability of their gaining more in that country. They marched first
into Provence, where they took many strong towns and castles, and ruined
the country by their robberies, as far as Avignon. Pope Innocent VI.,
who resided in Avignon, was much alarmed, as not knowing what might be
the intentions of the archpriest, the leader of these forces; and for
fear of personal insult he and the cardinals kept their household armed
day and night. When the archpriest and his troops had pillaged all the
country, the pope and clergy entered into treaty with him. Having
received proper security, he and the greater part of his people entered
Avignon, where he was received with as much respect as if he had been
son to the King of France. He dined many times with the pope and
cardinals, who gave him absolution from all his sins; and at his
departure they presented him with forty thousand crowns to distribute
among his companions. These men therefore marched away to different
places, following, however, the directions of the archpriest.
CHAPTER LXXXVI.
A WELSHMAN, OF THE NAME OF RUFFIN, COMMANDS A TROOP OF THE FREE
COMPANIES.
At this time, also, there was another company of men at arms, or
robbers, collected from all parts, who stationed themselves between the
rivers Loire and Seine, so that no one dared to travel between Paris and
Orleans, nor between Paris and Montargis, or even to remain in the
country. The inhabitants on the plains had all fled to Paris and
Orleans. This company had chosen for their leader a Welshman named
Ruffin, whom they had knighted, and who acquired such immense riches as
could not be counted. These companies advanced one day near to Paris,
another day toward Orleans, another time to Chartres; and there was no
town nor fortress but what was taken and pillaged, excepting such as
were strongly garrisoned.
They rode over the country in parties of twenty, thirty, or forty,
meeting with none to check their pillage; while, on the seacoast of
Normandy, there were still a greater number of English and Navarrois,
plunderers and robbers. Sir Robert Knolles was their leader, who
conquered every town and castle he came to, as there was no one to
oppose him. Sir Robert had followed this trade for some time, and by it
gained upward of one hundred thousand crowns. He kept a great many
soldiers in his pay; and, being very liberal, he was cheerfully followed
and obeyed.
CHAPTER LXXXVII.
THE PROVOST OF THE MERCHANTS OF PARIS KILLS THREE KNIGHTS IN THE
APARTMENT OF THE PRINCE.
During the time that the three estates governed the kingdom, all sorts
of people united themselves together, under the name of Free Companies:
they made war upon every man that was worth robbing. I must here inform
you that the nobles and prelates of the realm and church began to be
weary of the government and regulations of the three estates: they
therefore permitted the provost of the merchants of Paris to summon
some of the citizens, because they were going greater lengths than they
approved of.
It happened one day, when the regent of France was in his palace at
Paris, with many knights, nobles, and prelates, that the provost of the
merchants collected also a great number of the common people of Paris,
who were devoted to him, all wearing caps similar to his own, that they
might know each other; and, attended by this crowd, the provost came to
the palace. He entered the apartment of the duke,[27] and demanded of
him, in an insolent manner, to take the management of the kingdom of
France, and to govern it wisely (since it would become his by
inheritance), that all those free companies who at present were
overrunning the country might be prevented from doing further mischief.
The duke replied that he would very willingly comply with his request if
he had the means to carry it into execution, but that it more properly
belonged to those who had raised and received the imposts due to the
realm to perform it. I cannot pretend to say how it happened; but words
increased so much, and with such warmth, that at last three of the
principal counsellors of the duke were slain, and so near to him that
their blood flew over his robe: he himself was in very great danger, but
they had put one of their caps on his head, and he consented to pardon
the death of his three knights. Two of them were knights of arms, and
the other of laws. Their names were, the Lord Robert de Clermont, a
gallant and magnificent knight, and the Lord de Conflans: the knight of
laws was the Lord Simon de Buci.
CHAPTER LXXXVIII.
THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE INFAMOUS JACQUERIE OF BEAUVOISIS.
Soon after the deliverance of the King of Navarre out of prison, a
marvellous and great tribulation befell the kingdom of France, in
Beauvoisis, Brie, upon the river Marne, in the Laonnois, and in the
neighborhood of Soissons. Some of the inhabitants of the country towns
assembled together in Beauvoisis, without any leader; they were not at
first more than one hundred men. They said that the nobles of the
kingdom of France, knights, and squires, were a disgrace to it, and that
it would be a very meritorious act to destroy them all; to which
proposition every one assented, and added, Shame befall him that should
be the means of preventing the gentlemen from being wholly destroyed!
They then, without further counsel, collected themselves in a body, and
with no other arms than the staves, shod with iron, which some had, and
others with knives, marched to the house of a knight who lived near,
and, breaking it open, murdered the knight, his lady, and all the
children, both great and small: they then burnt the house.
After this their second expedition was to the strong castle of another
knight, which they took. They then murdered the lady, her daughter, and
the other children, and last of all the knight himself, with much
cruelty. They destroyed and burnt his castle. They did the like to many
castles and handsome houses; and their numbers increased so much that
they were in a short time upward of six thousand. Wherever they went,
they received additions, for all of their rank in life followed them,
while every one else fled, carrying off with them their ladies, damsels,
and children, ten or twenty leagues distant, where they thought they
could place them in security, leaving their houses with all their riches
in them.
These wicked people, without leader and without arms, plundered and
burnt all the houses they came to. He who committed the most atrocious
actions, and such as no human creature would have imagined, was the most
applauded, and considered as the greatest man among them. I dare not
write the horrible and inconceivable atrocities they committed. They had
chosen a king among them, who came from Clermont in Beauvoisis; he was
elected as the worst of the bad, and they denominated him Jacques
Bonhomme.[28] These wretches burnt and destroyed in the county of
Beauvoisis, and at Corbie, Amiens, and Montdidier, upward of sixty good
houses and strong castles. By the acts of such traitors in the country
of Brie and thereabout, it behooved every lady, knight, and squire,
having the means of escape, to fly to Meaux, if they wished to preserve
themselves from being insulted and afterwards murdered. The Duchess of
Normandy, the Duchess of Orleans, and many other ladies, had adopted
this course to save themselves. These cursed people thus supported
themselves in the countries between Paris, Noyon, and Soissons, and in
all the territory of Coucy, in the county of Valois. In the bishoprics
of Noyon, Laon, and Soissons, there were upward of one hundred castles,
and good houses of knights and squires, destroyed.
CHAPTER LXXXIX.
THE BATTLE OF MEAUX IN BRIE, WHERE THE VILLAINS ARE DISCOMFITED BY THE
EARL OF FOIX AND THE CAPTAL OF BUCH.
At the time these wicked men were overrunning the country, the Earl of
Foix, and his cousin the Captal of Buch, were returning from a croisade
in Prussia. They were informed, on their entering France, of the
distress the nobles were in; and they learnt at the city of Chalons,
that the Duchess of Orleans, and three hundred other ladies, under the
protection of the Duke of Orleans, were fled to Meaux on account of
these disturbances. The two knights resolved to go to the assistance of
these ladies, and to re-enforce them with all their might,
notwithstanding the Captal was attached to the English; but at that time
there was a truce between the two kings. They might have in their
company about sixty lances. They were most cheerfully received, on their
arrival at Meaux, by the ladies and damsels; for these Jacks and
peasants of Brie had heard what number of ladies, married and unmarried,
and young children of quality, were in Meaux: they had united themselves
with those of Valois, and were on their road thither. On the other hand,
those of Paris had also been informed of the treasures Meaux contained,
and had set out from that place in crowds. Having met the others, they
amounted together to nine thousand men: their forces were augmenting
every step they advanced.
They came to the gates of the town, which the inhabitants opened to
them, and allowed them to enter: they did so in such numbers that all
the streets were quite filled as far as the market-place, which is
tolerably strong, but it required to be guarded, though the river Marne
nearly surrounds it. The noble dames who were lodged there, seeing such
multitudes rushing toward them, were exceedingly frightened. On this the
two lords and their company advanced to the gate of the market-place,
which they had opened, and marching under the banners of the Earl of
Foix and Duke of Orleans, and the pennon of the Captal of Buch, posted
themselves in front of this peasantry, who were badly armed. When these
banditti perceived such a troop of gentlemen, so well equipped, sally
forth to guard the market-place, the foremost of them began to fall
back. The gentlemen then followed them, using their lances and swords.
When they felt the weight of their blows, they, through fear, turned
about so fast, they fell one over the other. All manner of armed persons
then rushed out of the barriers, drove them before them, striking them
down like beasts, and clearing the town of them; for they kept neither
regularity nor order, slaying so many that they were tired. They flung
them in great heaps into the river. In short, they killed upward of
seven thousand. Not one would have escaped, if they had chosen to pursue
them further.
On the return of the men at arms, they set fire to the town of Meaux,
and burnt it, and all the peasants they could find were shut up in it,
because they had been of the party of the Jacks. Since this discomfiture
which happened to them at Meaux, they never collected again in any great
bodies; for the young Enguerrand de Coucy had plenty of gentlemen under
his orders, who destroyed them, wherever they could be met with, without
mercy.
BOOK II.[29]
CHAPTER I.
CORONATION OF KING CHARLES OF FRANCE.
As you may well imagine, nothing was spared by the nobility and great
lords to add to the magnificence of the coronation of the young King
Charles[30] of France, who was crowned at Rheims on a Sunday, in the
twelfth year of his age, in the year 1380. At this solemnity there were
many high and mighty lords.
The young king made his entry into the city of Rheims on the Saturday,
handsomely attended by the great lords, nobility, and minstrels, at
vespers. In particular, there were upward of thirty trumpets, which
preceded him, and sounded so clear it was quite marvellous to hear them.
There were also a great many other young squires, children of the great
barons of France, whom the king on the morrow, being the day of his
coronation, created knights. This Saturday the king heard vespers in the
church of Our Lady, and performed his vigils in that church, according
to the custom of those times, the greater part of the night. All the
youths desirous of knighthood attended him, and did the same.
On the Sunday, which was All Saints’ Day, the church of Our Lady was
very richly decorated for the coronation; so much so, that it could not
possibly have been better ordered. The Archbishop of Rheims, after
having said mass with great solemnity, consecrated the king with the
holy ampulla with which St. Remy had anointed Clovis, the first
Christian king of the French.
Before the consecration, the king created, in front of the altar, all
those young squires, knights. The office of mass was afterwards chanted
by the archbishop, the king being clothed in his royal robes, and seated
on an elevated throne, adorned with cloth of gold; and all the young
knights were placed on low benches, covered also with the same, at his
feet. In this state did they remain the whole day. The new constable,
Sir Oliver de Clisson, was present: he had been named constable a few
days prior to this ceremony, and performed well his charge, and every
thing belonging to it. The principal barons of France were also there,
so richly dressed it would be tedious to relate. The king was seated in
royal majesty, with a crown on his head rich and precious beyond
measure. The church of Our Lady at Rheims was so much crowded during
this ceremony that one could not turn one’s foot. I have heard also,
that at this accession of the young king to the throne, in order to
please the people of France, all impositions, aids, taxes, subsidies,
and other levies, which had displeased and had much oppressed them, were
abolished, greatly to the joy of the subjects.
After mass they went to the palace; but, as the hall was too small for
such numbers, they erected in the court of the palace a large covered
stage, on which the dinner was served. The king was seated with his five
uncles of Brabant, Anjou, Berry, Burgundy, and Bourbon; but, though they
were at his table, they were at a distance from him. The Archbishop of
Rheims and other prelates were on his right hand. He was served by the
great barons, the Lord de Coucy, the Lord de Clisson, Sir Guy de la
Tremouille, the Lord High Admiral, and several others, on handsome
horses, covered and decorated with gold brocade. The whole day passed in
ceremonies. On the morrow many of the great barons took leave of the
king and his uncles, and returned to their own country. The king went
that day to dinner at the abbey of St. Thierry, two leagues from Rheims;
for those monks are bound to give him this entertainment, and the city
of Rheims to provide for the coronation of the king. Thus ended this
noble feast. He returned to Paris, where he was grandly feasted by the
Parisians at his entrance.
CHAPTER II.
A COMBAT BETWEEN AN ENGLISH AND A FRENCH SQUIRE.
We will now speak of certain knights and squires who returned to
Cherbourg by land, and relate what befell them on the road. The
Constable of France, who at that time resided at Château Josselin,
seven leagues from Vannes, had granted passports to some English and
Navarre knights of the garrison of Cherbourg, who had served under the
Earl of Buckingham. Among others were Sir John Harlestone, governor of
Cherbourg, Sir Evan Fitzwarren, Sir William Clinton, and Sir John
Burley. They set out from Vannes, following the road to Château
Josselin, for it was in their route. On their arrival they took up their
quarters in the town below the castle, not intending more than to dine
and continue their journey. When they had dismounted at the inn, like
travellers who wished to repose themselves, the knights and squires of
the castle came to visit them as brother-soldiers, who always see each
other with pleasure, particularly the French and English. Among the
French there was a squire of great renown in arms, who belonged to John
de Bourbon, Count de la Marche, the nearest to his person of all his
squires, and whom he loved the most: his name was John Boucmel. He had
formerly been in garrison in Valogne with Sir William des Bordes, and in
his expedition against Cherbourg. During that time he had often had
words with an English squire called Nicholas Clifford, who was then
present, respecting a tilting-match. In the course of the conversation
which these French knights and squires held at the inn with the English,
John Boucmel, recollecting Clifford, cried out, “Nicholas Clifford! ah!
Nicholas, Nicholas, we have often wished and sought to perform a
tilting-match; but we never could find fit opportunity or place for it.
Now, as we are here before my lord constable and those gentlemen, let us
perform it: I therefore demand from you three courses with a
lance.”--“John,” replied Nicholas, “you know that we are here but as
travellers on our road, under the passport of my lord constable: what
you ask from me cannot now be complied with, for I am not the principal
in the passport, but under the command of these knights whom you see. If
I were to stay behind, they would set out without me.”--“Ha, Nicholas,
do not make such excuses as these: let your friends depart, if they
please, for I give you my promise, that, as soon as our tilt shall be
over, I will conduct you myself within the gates of Cherbourg without
loss or peril, as I can depend on my lord constable’s good-will.”
Nicholas said, “Now, suppose it to be as you say, and that I place my
confidence in being safely conducted by you, yet you see we are
travelling through the country without arms of any sort; therefore, if I
were willing to arm myself, I have not wherewithal to do so.” John
replied, “You shall not excuse yourself that way, for I will tell you
what I will do: I have plenty of arms at my command, and will order
different sorts to be brought to the place where we shall tilt; and when
all are laid out you shall examine them, and consider which will suit
you best, for I will leave the choice to you; and when you shall have
chosen I will then arm myself.”
When Nicholas saw himself so earnestly pressed, he was ashamed that
those present should have heard it, and thought that since John made
such handsome offers, he could not in honor refuse them; for John still
added, “Make whatever arrangements you please, I will agree to them
sooner than we should not have a tilting-match.” Nicholas then said he
would consider of it, and before his departure he would make him
acquainted with his resolution; adding, “If it will not be possible for
me to comply with your request at this place, and if my lords, under
whom I am, should be unwilling to assent to it, on my return to
Cherbourg, if you will come to Valogne, and signify to me your arrival,
I will immediately hasten thither, and deliver you from your
engagement.”--“No, no,” said John; “seek not for excuses: I have offered
you such handsome proposals, that you cannot in honor depart without
running a tilt with me, according to the demand I make.” Nicholas was
more enraged than before; for he thought, and true it was, that he by
such a speech greatly outraged his honor. Upon this the French returned
to the castle, and the English to their inn where they dined.
When these knights had got to the castle, you may suppose they were not
silent on the words which had passed between John Boucmel and Nicholas
Clifford, insomuch that the constable heard of them. He considered a
short time; and, when the knights and squires of the country who were
with him entreated him to interest himself that this combat might be
fought, he willingly promised it. The English knights and squires,
wishing to pursue their journey after dinner, went to the castle to wait
on the constable; for he was to give them seven knights to escort them
the whole road through Brittany and Normandy, as far as Cherbourg.
When they were arrived at the castle, the constable received them very
amicably, and then said, “I put you all under arrest, and forbid you to
depart hence this day. To-morrow morning, after mass, you shall witness
the combat between your squire and ours, and then you shall dine with
me. Dinner over, you shall set out, and I will give you good guides to
conduct you to Cherbourg.” They complied with his requests, and, having
drank of his wine, returned to their inn. Now the two squires consulted
together, for it was fixed they should on the morrow morning engage
without fail. When morning came they both heard mass, confessed
themselves, and mounted their horses, the French being on one side, and
the English on the other; they rode together to a smooth plain on the
outside of the castle, where they dismounted. John Boucmel had provided
there two suits of armor, according to his promise, which were good and
strong, as the occasion demanded. Having had them displayed, he told the
English squire to make the first choice. “No,” said the Englishman, “I
will not choose: you shall have the choice.” John was therefore forced
to choose first, which he did, and armed himself completely (in doing
which he was assisted) as a good man at arms should be. Nicholas did the
same. When they were both armed they grasped their spears, well made
with Bordeaux steel, and of the same length; and each took the position
proper for him to run his course with their helmets and visors closed.
They then advanced, and when they approached pretty near they lowered
their spears, aiming them to hit each other. At the first onset Nicholas
Clifford struck with his spear John Boucmel on the upper part of his
breast; but the point slipped off the steel breastplate, and pierced the
hood, which was of good mail, and, entering his neck, cut the jugular
vein, and passed quite through, breaking off at the shaft with the head;
so that the truncheon remained in the neck of the squire, who was
killed, as you may suppose. The English squire passed on to his chair,
where he seated himself. The French lords, who had seen the stroke, and
the broken spear in his neck, hastened to him. They immediately took off
his helmet, and drew out the spear. On its being extracted, he turned
himself about without uttering a word, and fell down dead. The English
squire hurried to his relief, crying out to have the blood stanched, but
could not arrive before he expired. Nicholas Clifford was then
exceedingly vexed for having by ill fortune slain a valiant and good man
at arms. All who at that time could have seen the despair of the Count
de la Marche, who had such an affection for his deceased squire, would
surely have much pitied him: he was in the greatest distress, for he
esteemed him above all others.
The constable was present, and endeavored to comfort him, saying that
such things were to be expected in similar combats. “It has turned out
unfortunate for our squire, but the Englishman could not help it.” He
then addressed himself to the English: “Come, come to dinner, for it is
ready.” The constable led them, as I may say against their wills, to the
castle to dinner; for they wished not to go there on account of the
death of the Frenchman.
The Count de la Marche most tenderly bewailed his squire as he viewed
his corpse. Nicholas Clifford directly retired to his lodgings, and
would not by any means dine at the castle, as well for the great
vexation he was in for this death as on account of his relations and
friends; but the constable sent to seek for him, and it was necessary he
should comply. On his arrival the constable said, “In truth, Nicholas, I
can very well believe, and I see by your looks, that you are much
concerned for the death of John Boucmel. But I acquit you of it, for it
was no fault of yours; and, as God is my judge, if I had been in the
situation you were in, you have done nothing more than I would have
done, as it is better to hurt one’s enemy than to be hurt by him. Such
is the fate of war.”
They then seated themselves at the table, and these lords dined at their
ease. After they had finished their repast, and drank their wine, the
constable called the Lord Le Barrois des Barres, and said to him,
“Barrois, prepare yourself: I will that you conduct these Englishmen as
far as Cherbourg, and that you have opened to them every town and
castle, and have given to them whatever they shall be in need of.” Le
Barrois replied, “My lord, I shall cheerfully obey your orders.”
The English then, taking leave of the constable and the knights with
him, came to their lodgings, where every thing was packed up and ready.
They mounted their horses, departed from Château Josselin, and rode
straight to Pontorson and Mont St. Michel. They were under the escort of
that gallant knight Le Barrois des Barres, who never quitted them in
Brittany or Normandy until they had arrived in Cherbourg.
CHAPTER III.
THE POPULACE OF ENGLAND REBEL AGAINST THE NOBILITY.
There happened in England great commotions among the lower ranks of the
people, by which England was near ruined without resource. Never was a
country in such jeopardy as this was at that period, and all through the
too great comfort of the commonalty. Rebellion was stirred up as it was
formerly done in France by the Jacques Bons-hommes, who did much evil,
and sore troubled the kingdom of France. It is marvellous from what a
trifle this pestilence raged in England. In order that it may serve as
an example to mankind, I will speak of all that was done, from the
information I had at the time on the subject.
It is customary in England, as well as in several other countries, for
the nobility to have great privileges over the commonalty, whom they
keep in bondage: that is to say, they are bound by law and custom to
plough the lands of gentlemen, to harvest the grain, to carry it home to
the barn, to thresh and winnow it; they are also bound to harvest the
hay, and carry it home. All these services they are obliged to perform
for their lords, and many more in England than in other countries. The
prelates and gentlemen are thus served. In the counties of Kent, Essex,
Sussex, and Bedford, these services are more oppressive than in all the
rest of the kingdom.
The evil-disposed in these districts began to rise, saying they were too
severely oppressed; that at the beginning of the world there were no
slaves, and no one ought to be treated as such unless he had committed
treason against his lord as Lucifer had done against God; but they had
done no such thing, for they were neither angels nor spirits, but men
formed after the same likeness with their lords, who treated them as
beasts. This they would not longer bear, but had determined to be free;
and, if they labored or did any other works for their lords, they would
be paid for it.
A crazy priest in the county of Kent, called John Ball, who for his
absurd preaching had been thrice confined in the prison of the
Archbishop of Canterbury, was greatly instrumental in inflaming them
with those ideas. He was accustomed every Sunday after mass, as the
people were coming out of the church, to preach to them in the
market-place, and assemble a crowd around him, to whom he would say, “My
good friends, things cannot go on well in England, nor ever will, until
every thing shall be in common; when there shall neither be vassal nor
lord, and all distinctions levelled; when the lords shall be no more
masters than ourselves. How ill they have used us! and for what reason
do they thus hold us in bondage? Are we not all descended from the same
parents, Adam and Eve? And what can they show, or what reasons give, why
they should be more the masters than ourselves, except, perhaps, in
making us labor and work for them to spend? They are clothed in velvets
and rich stuffs ornamented with ermine and other furs, while we are
forced to wear poor cloth; they have wines, spices, and fine bread, when
we have only rye and the refuse of the straw, and, if we drink, it must
be water; they have handsome seats and manors, when we must brave the
wind and rain in our labors in the field: but it is from our labor they
have wherewith to support their pomp. We are called slaves, and if we do
not perform our services we are beaten; and we have not any sovereign to
whom we can complain, or who wishes to hear us and do us justice. Let us
go to the king, who is young, and remonstrate with him on our servitude;
telling him we must have it otherwise, or that we shall find a remedy
for it ourselves. If we wait on him in a body, all those who come under
the appellation of slaves, or are held in bondage, will follow us in the
hopes of being free. When the king shall see us, we shall obtain a
favorable answer, or we must then seek ourselves to amend our
condition.”
These promises stirred up those in the counties of Kent, Essex, Sussex,
and Bedford, and the adjoining country, so that they marched toward
London; and, when they arrived near, they were upward of sixty thousand.
They had a leader called Wat Tyler, and with him were Jack Straw and
John Ball: these three were their commanders, but the principal was Wat
Tyler. This Wat had been a tiler of houses, a bad man, and a great enemy
to the nobility. When these wicked people first began to rise, all
London, except their friends, were very much frightened. The mayor and
rich citizens assembled in council on hearing they were coming to
London, and debated whether they should shut the gates, and refuse to
admit them; but, having well considered, they determined not to do so,
as they should run the risk of having the suburbs burnt.
The gates were therefore thrown open, when they entered in troops of one
to two hundred, by twenties or thirties, according to the populousness
of the towns they came from; and as they came into London they lodged
themselves. But it is a truth that full two-thirds of these people knew
not what they wanted, nor what they sought for: they followed one
another like sheep, or like the shepherds of old who said they were
going to conquer the Holy Land, and afterwards accomplished nothing. In
such manner did these poor fellows and vassals come to London from
distances of a hundred and sixty leagues, but the greater part from
those counties I have mentioned, and on their arrival they demanded to
see the king. The gentlemen of the country, the knights, and the squires
began to be alarmed when they saw the people thus rise; and if they were
frightened they had sufficient reason, for less causes create fear. They
began to collect together as well as they could.
The same day that these wicked men of Kent were on their road toward
London, the Princess of Wales, mother to the king, was returning from a
pilgrimage to Canterbury. She ran great risks from them; for these
scoundrels attacked her car, and caused much confusion, which greatly
frightened the good lady lest they should do some violence to her or to
her ladies. God, however, preserved her from this; and she came in one
day from Canterbury to London without venturing to make any stop by the
way. Her son Richard was this day in the Tower of London: thither the
princess came, and found the king attended by the Earl of Salisbury, the
Archbishop of Canterbury, Sir Robert de Namur, the Lord de Gommegines,
and several more, who had kept near his person from suspicions of his
subjects who were thus assembling without knowing what they wanted. This
rebellion was well known to be in agitation in the king’s palace before
it broke out, and the country people had left their homes, to which the
king applied no remedy, to the great astonishment of every one. In order
that gentlemen and others may take example, and correct wicked rebels, I
will most amply detail how this business was conducted.
CHAPTER IV.
THE POPULACE OF ENGLAND COMMIT MANY CRUELTIES ON THOSE IN OFFICIAL
SITUATIONS.--THEY SEND A KNIGHT AS AMBASSADOR TO THE KING.
On Monday preceding the feast of the Holy Sacrament, in the year 1381,
did these people sally forth from their homes, to come to London to
remonstrate with the king, that all might be made free, for they would
not there should be any slaves in England. At Canterbury they met John
Ball (who thought he should find there the archbishop, but he was at
London), Wat Tyler, and Jack Straw. On their entrance into Canterbury,
they were much feasted by every one, for the inhabitants were of their
way of thinking; and, having held a council, they resolved to march to
London, and also to send emissaries across the Thames to Essex,
Suffolk, Bedford, and other counties, to press the people to march to
London on that side, and thus, as it were, to surround it, which the
king would not be able to prevent. It was their intention that all the
different parties should be collected together on the feast of the Holy
Sacrament, or on the following day.
On Corpus Christi Day, King Richard heard mass in the Tower of London,
with all his lords, and afterwards entered his barge, attended by the
Earls of Salisbury, Warwick, and Suffolk, with other knights. He rowed
down the Thames toward Rotherhithe, a manor belonging to the crown,
where were upward of ten thousand men, who had come from Blackheath to
see the king and to speak to him. When they perceived his barge
approach, they set up such shouts and cries as if all the devils in hell
had been in their company.
When the king and his lords saw this crowd of people, and the wildness
of their manner, there was not one among them so bold and determined but
felt alarmed: the king was advised by his barons not to land, but to
have his barge rowed up and down the river. “What do ye wish for?”
demanded the king: “I am come hither to hear what you have to say.”
Those near him cried out with one voice, “We wish thee to land, when we
will remonstrate with thee, and tell thee more at our ease what our
wants are.” The Earl of Salisbury then replied for the king, and said,
“Gentlemen, you are not properly dressed, nor in a fit condition for the
king to talk with you.”
Nothing more was said; for the king was desired to return to the Tower
of London, from whence he had set out. When the people saw they could
obtain nothing more, they were inflamed with passion, and went back to
Blackheath, where the main body was, to relate the answer they had
received, and how the king was returned to the Tower. They all then
cried out, “Let us march instantly to London.” They immediately set off,
and in their road thither they destroyed the houses of lawyers,
courtiers, and monasteries. Advancing into the suburbs of London, which
were very handsome and extensive, they pulled down many fine houses: in
particular, they demolished the prison of the king, called the
Marshalsea, and set at liberty all those confined within it. They did
much damage to the suburbs, and menaced the Londoners at the entrance of
the bridge for having shut the gates of it, saying they would set fire
to the suburbs, take the city by storm, and afterwards burn and destroy
it.
With respect to the common people of London, numbers were of their
opinions, and, on assembling together, said, “Why will you refuse
admittance to these honest men? They are our friends, and what they are
doing is for our good.” It was then found necessary to open the gates,
when crowds rushed in, and ran to those shops which seemed well stored
with provision: if they sought for meat or drink, it was placed before
them, and nothing refused, but all manner of good cheer offered, in
hopes of appeasing them.
Their leaders, John Ball, Jack Straw, and Wat Tyler, then marched
through London, attended by more than twenty thousand men, to the palace
of the Savoy, which is a handsome building on the road to Westminster,
situated on the banks of the Thames, belonging to the Duke of Lancaster:
they immediately killed the porters, pressed into the house, and set it
on fire. Not content with committing this outrage, they went to the
house of the Knights Hospitalers of Rhodes, dedicated to St. John of
Mount Carmel, which they burnt, together with their hospital and church.
They afterwards paraded the streets, and killed every Fleming they could
find, whether in house, church, or hospital: not one escaped death. They
broke open several houses of the Lombards, taking whatever money they
could lay their hands on, none daring to oppose them. They murdered a
rich citizen called Richard Lyon, to whom Wat Tyler had been formerly
servant in France; but, having once beaten this varlet, he had not
forgotten it, and, having carried his men to his house, ordered his head
to be cut off, placed upon a pike, and carried through the streets of
London. Thus did these wicked people act like madmen; and on this
Thursday they did much mischief to the city of London.
Toward evening they fixed their quarters in a square called St.
Catherine’s, before the Tower, declaring they would not depart thence
until they should obtain from the king every thing they wanted, and have
all their desires satisfied, and the Chancellor of England made to
account with them, and show how the great sums which had been raised
were expended; menacing, that, if he did not render such an account as
was agreeable to them, it would be the worse for him. Considering the
various ills they had done to foreigners, they lodged themselves before
the Tower. You may easily suppose what a miserable situation the king
was in, and those with him; for at times these rebellious fellows hooted
as loud as if the devils were in them.
About evening a council was held in the presence of the king, the barons
who were in the Tower with him, Sir William Walworth the mayor, and some
of the principal citizens, when it was proposed to arm themselves, and
during the night to fall upon these wretches who were in the streets,
and amounted to sixty thousand, while they were asleep and drunk, for
then they might be killed like flies, and not one in twenty among them
had arms. The citizens were very capable of doing this, for they had
secretly received into their houses their friends and servants, properly
prepared to act. Sir Robert Knolles remained in his house, guarding his
property, with more than sixscore companions completely armed, and would
have instantly sallied forth. Sir Perducas d’Albreth was also in London
at that period, and would have been of great service; so that they could
have mustered upward of eight thousand men, well armed. But nothing was
done, for they were too much afraid of the commonalty of London; and the
advisers of the king, the Earl of Salisbury and others, said to him,
“Sir, if you can appease them by fair words, it will be so much the
better, and good-humoredly grant them what they ask: for, should we
begin what we cannot go through, we shall never be able to recover it:
it will be all over with us and our heirs, and England will be a
desert.” This counsel was followed, and the mayor ordered to make no
movement. He obeyed, as in reason he ought. In the city of London, with
the mayor, there are twelve sheriffs, of whom nine were for the king and
three for these wicked people, as it was afterwards discovered, and for
which they then paid dearly.
On Friday morning those lodged in the square before St. Catherine’s,
near the Tower, began to make themselves ready; they shouted much, and
said, that, if the king would not come out to them, they would attack
the Tower, storm it, and slay all in it. The king was alarmed at these
menaces, and resolved to speak with them: he therefore sent orders for
them to retire to a handsome meadow at Mile-end, where, in the summer,
people go to amuse themselves, and that there the king would grant them
their demands. Proclamation was made in the king’s name for all those
who wished to speak with him to go to the above-mentioned place, where
he would not fail to meet them.
The commonalty of the different villages began to march thither; but all
did not go, nor had they the same objects in view, for the greater part
only wished for the riches and destruction of the nobles, and the
plunder of London. This was the principal cause of their rebellion, as
they very clearly showed; for when the gates of the Tower were thrown
open, and the king, attended by his two brothers, the Earls of
Salisbury, of Warwick, of Suffolk, Sir Robert de Namur, the Lords de
Vertain and de Gommegines, with several others, had passed through them,
Wat Tyler, Jack Straw, and John Ball, with upward of four hundred,
rushed in by force, and, running from chamber to chamber, found the
Archbishop of Canterbury, whose name was Simon, a valiant and wise man,
and chancellor of England, who had but just celebrated mass before the
king: he was seized by these rascals, and beheaded. The Prior of St.
John’s suffered the same fate; and likewise a Franciscan friar, a doctor
of physic, who was attached to the Duke of Lancaster, out of spite to
his master; and also a sergeant at arms of the name of John Laige. They
fixed these four heads on long pikes, and had them carried before them
through the streets of London: when they had sufficiently played with
them, they placed them on London Bridge, as if they had been traitors to
their king and country.
These scoundrels entered the apartment of the princess, and cut her bed;
which so much terrified her, that she fainted, and in this condition
was by her servants and ladies carried to the river-side, when she was
put into a covered boat, and conveyed to the house called the Wardrobe,
where she continued that day and night like to a woman half dead, until
she was comforted by the king her son, as you shall presently hear.
CHAPTER V.
THE NOBLES OF ENGLAND ARE IN GREAT DANGER OF BEING DESTROYED--THREE
OF THE PRINCIPAL LEADERS OF THE REBELS ARE PUNISHED, AND THE REST
SENT BACK TO THEIR HOMES.
When the king was on his way to the place called Mile-end, without
London, his two brothers, the Earl of Kent, and Sir John Holland, stole
off and galloped from his company, as did also the Lord de Gommegines,
not daring to show themselves to the populace at Mile-end for fear of
their lives.
On the king’s arrival, attended by the barons, he found upward of sixty
thousand men assembled from different villages and counties of England:
he instantly advanced into the midst of them, saying in a pleasant
manner, “My good people, I am your king and your lord: what is it you
want? and what do you wish to say to me?” Those who heard him answered,
“We wish thou wouldst make us free forever, us, our heirs and our lands,
and that we should no longer be called slaves, nor held in bondage.” The
king replied, “I grant your wish: now, therefore, return to your homes
and the places whence you came, leaving two or three men from each
village, to whom I will order letters to be given sealed with my seal,
which they shall carry back with every demand you have made fully
granted; and, in order that you may be the more satisfied, I will direct
that my banners shall be sent to every stewardship, castlewick, and
corporation.” These words greatly pleased the novices and well-meaning
ones who were there, and knew not what they wanted, saying, “It is well
said: we do not wish for more.” The people were thus quieted, and began
to return toward London.
The king added a few words which pleased them much: “You, my good people
of Kent, shall have one of my banners; and you also of Essex, Sussex,
Bedford, Suffolk, Cambridge, Stafford, and Lincoln, shall each of you
have one; and I pardon you all for what you have hitherto done; but you
must follow my banners, and now return home on the terms I have
mentioned.” They unanimously replied they would. Thus did this great
assembly break up, and set out for London. The king instantly employed
upward of thirty secretaries, who drew up the letters as fast as they
could; and, having sealed and delivered them to these people, they
departed, and returned to their own counties.
The principal mischief remained behind: I mean Wat Tyler, Jack Straw,
and John Ball, who declared that though the people were satisfied, they
would not thus depart; and they had more than thirty thousand who were
of their mind. They continued in the city, without any wish to have
their letters, or the king’s seal; but did all they could to throw the
town into such confusion that the lords and rich citizens might be
murdered, and their houses pillaged and destroyed. The Londoners
suspected this, and kept themselves at home, with their friends and
servants, well armed and prepared, every one according to his
abilities.
When the people had been appeased at Mile-end Green, and were setting
off for their different towns as speedily as they could receive the
king’s letters, King Richard went to the Wardrobe, where the princess
was in the greatest fear. He comforted her, as he was very able to do,
and passed there the night.
I must relate an adventure which happened to these clowns near Norwich,
and to their leader, called William Lister, who was from the county of
Stafford. On the same day these wicked people burnt the palace of the
Savoy, the church and house of St. John, the hospital of the Templars,
pulled down the prison of Newgate, and set at liberty all the prisoners.
There were collected numerous bodies from Lincolnshire, Norfolk, and
Suffolk, who proceeded on their march toward London, according to the
orders they had received, under the direction of Lister.
In their road they stopped near Norwich, and forced every one to join
them, so that none of the commonalty remained behind. The reason why
they stopped near Norwich was, that the governor of the town was a
knight called Sir Robert Salle: he was not by birth a gentleman, but,
having acquired great renown for his ability and courage, King Edward
had created him a knight. He was the handsomest and strongest man in
England. Lister and his companions took it into their heads they would
make this knight their commander, and carry him with them, in order to
be the more feared. They sent orders to him to come out into the fields
to speak with them, or they would attack and burn the city. The knight,
considering it was much better for him to go to them than that they
should commit such outrages, mounted his horse, and went out of the town
alone to hear what they had to say. When they perceived him coming, they
showed him every mark of respect, and courteously entreated him to
dismount and talk with them. He did dismount, and committed a great
folly; for when he had so done, having surrounded him, they at first
conversed in a friendly way, saying, “Robert, you are a knight, and a
man of great weight in this country renowned for your valor; yet,
notwithstanding all this, we know who you are: you are not a gentleman,
but the son of a poor mason, just such as ourselves. Do you come with
us, as our commander, and we will make so great a lord of you that
one-quarter of England shall be under your command.”
The knight, on hearing them thus speak, was exceedingly angry; he would
never have consented to such a proposal; and, eying them with inflamed
looks, answered, “Begone, wicked scoundrels and false traitors as you
are! Would you have me desert my natural lord for such a company of
knaves as you? would you have me dishonor myself? I would much rather
you were all hanged, for that must be your end.” On saying this, he
attempted to mount his horse; but, his foot slipping from the stirrup,
his horse took fright. They then shouted out, and cried, “Put him to
death!” When he heard this he let his horse go; and, drawing a handsome
Bordeaux sword, he began to skirmish, and soon cleared the crowd from
about him, that it was a pleasure to see. Some attempted to close with
him; but with each stroke he gave he cut off heads, arms, feet, or legs.
There were none so bold but were afraid; and Sir Robert performed that
day marvellous feats of arms. These wretches were upward of forty
thousand; they shot and flung at him such things, that, had he been
clothed in steel instead of being unarmed, he must have been
overpowered: however, he killed twelve of them, besides many whom he
wounded. At last he was overthrown, when they cut off his legs and
arms, and rent his body in piecemeal. Thus ended Sir Robert Salle, which
was a great pity; and, when the knights and squires in England heard of
it, they were much enraged.
On the Saturday morning the king left the Wardrobe, and went to
Westminster, where he and all the lords heard mass in the abbey. In this
church there is a statue of Our Lady in a small chapel, that has many
virtues, and performs great miracles, in which the kings of England have
much faith. The king, having paid his devotions and made his offerings
to this shrine, mounted his horse about nine o’clock, as did the barons
who were with him. They rode along the causeway to return to London; but
when they had gone a little way he turned to a road on the left to go
from London.
This day all the rabble were again assembled, under the conduct of Wat
Tyler, Jack Straw, and John Ball, to parley at a place called
Smithfield, where, every Friday, the horse-market is kept. They amounted
to upward of twenty thousand, all of the same sort. Many more were in
the city, breakfasting, and drinking Rhenish, Malmsey, and Madeira
wines, in taverns and at the houses of the Lombards, without paying for
any thing; and happy was he who could give them good cheer. Those who
were collected in Smithfield had king’s banners, which had been given to
them the preceding evening; and these reprobates wanted to pillage the
city the same day, their leaders saying that hitherto they had done
nothing. “The pardons which the king has granted will not be of much use
to us; but, if we be of the same mind, we shall pillage this large,
rich, and powerful town of London, before those from Essex, Suffolk,
Cambridge, Bedford, Warwick, Reading, Lancashire, Arundel, Guilford,
Coventry, Lynne, Lincoln, York, and Durham shall arrive; for they are
on the road, and we know for certain that Vaquier and Lister will
conduct them hither. If we now plunder the city of the wealth that is in
it, we shall have been beforehand, and shall not repent of so doing;
but, if we wait for their arrival, they will wrest it from us.” To this
opinion all had agreed, when the king appeared in sight, attended by
sixty horse. He was not thinking of them, but intended to have continued
his ride without coming into London: however, when he came before the
Abbey of St. Bartholomew, which is in Smithfield, and saw the crowd of
people, he stopped, and said he would not proceed until he knew what
they wanted; and, if they were troubled, he would appease them.
The lords who accompanied him stopped also, as was but right since the
king had stopped; when Wat Tyler, seeing the king, said to his men,
“Here is the king; I will go and speak with him: do not you stir from
hence until I give you a signal.” He made a motion with his hand, and
added, “When you shall see me make this sign, then step forward, and
kill every one except the king; but hurt him not, for he is young, and
we can do what we please with him; for by carrying him with us through
England we shall be lords of it without any opposition.” There was a
doublet-maker of London called John Ticle, who had brought sixty
doublets, with which some of the clowns had dressed themselves; and on
his asking who was to pay, for he must have for them thirty good marks,
Tyler replied, “Make thyself easy, man; thou shalt be well paid this
day. Look to me for it: thou hast sufficient security for them.” On
saying this he spurred the horse on which he rode, and, leaving his men,
galloped up to the king, and came so near that his horse’s head touched
the crupper of that of the king. The first words he said when he
addressed the king were, “King, dost thou see all those men
there?”--“Yes,” replied the king: “why dost thou ask?”--“Because they
are all under my command, and have sworn by their faith and loyalty to
do whatever I shall order.”--“Very well,” said the king: “I have no
objections to it.” Tyler, who was only desirous of a riot, answered,
“And thinkest thou, king, that those people and as many more who are in
the city, also under my command, ought to depart without having had thy
letters? Oh, no! we will carry them with us.”--“Why!” replied the king,
“so it has been ordered, and they will be delivered out one after the
other; but, friend, return to thy companions, and tell them to depart
from London. Be peaceable and careful of yourselves; for it is our
determination that you shall all of you have your letters by villages
and towns, as it had been agreed on.”
As the king finished speaking, Wat Tyler, casting his eyes around him,
spied a squire attached to the king’s person, bearing his sword. Tyler
mortally hated this squire: formerly they had had words together when
the squire ill-treated him. “What! art thou here?” cried Tyler. “Give me
thy dagger.”--“I will not,” said the squire: “why should I give it
thee?” The king, turning to him, said, “Give it him, give it him;” which
he did, though much against his will. When Tyler took it he began to
play with it, and turn it about in his hand, and, again addressing the
squire, said, “Give me that sword.”--“I will not,” replied the squire;
“for it is the king’s sword, and thou art not worthy to bear it who art
but a mechanic; and if only thou and I were together thou wouldst not
have dared to say what thou hast, for as large a heap of gold as this
church.”--“By my troth,” answered Tyler, “I will not eat this day
before I have thy head.” At these words the mayor of London, with about
twelve more, rode forward, armed under their robes, and, pushing through
the crowd, saw Tyler’s manner of behaving; upon which he said,
“Scoundrel, how dare you thus behave in the presence of the king, and
utter such words? It is too impudent for such as thou.” The king then
began to be enraged, and said to the mayor, “Lay hands on him.”
While the king was giving this order, Tyler had addressed the mayor,
saying, “Hey! in God’s name, what I have said, does it concern thee?
What dost thou mean?”--“Truly,” replied the mayor, who found himself
supported by the king, “does it become such a stinking rascal as thou
art to use such speech in the presence of the king, thy natural lord? I
will not live a day if thou pay not for it.” Upon this he drew a kind of
cimeter he wore, and struck Tyler such a blow on the head as felled him
to his horse’s feet. When he was down he was surrounded on all sides, so
that his men could not see him; and one of the king’s squires, called
John Standwich, immediately leaped from his horse, and, drawing a
handsome sword which he bore, thrust it into his belly, and thus killed
him.
His men, advancing, saw their leader dead, when they cried out, “They
have killed our captain: let us march to them, and slay the whole.” On
these words they drew up in a sort of battle-array, each man having his
bent bow before him. The king certainly hazarded much by this action,
but it turned out fortunate; for, when Tyler was on the ground, he left
his attendants, ordering not one to follow him. He rode up to these
rebellious fellows, who were advancing to revenge their leader’s death,
and said to them, “Gentlemen, what are you about? You shall have no
other captain but me: I am your king; remain peaceable.” When the
greater part of them heard these words, they were quite ashamed, and
those inclined to peace began to slip away. The riotous ones kept their
ground, and showed symptoms of mischief, and as if they were resolved to
do something.
The king returned to his lords, and asked them what should next be done.
He was advised to make for the fields; for the mayor said that “to
retreat or fly would be of no avail. It is proper we should act thus,
for I reckon that we shall very soon receive assistance from
London,--that is, from our good friends who are prepared and armed, with
all their servants in their houses.” While things remained in this
state, several ran to London, and cried out, “They are killing the king!
They are killing the king and our mayor!” Upon this alarm every man of
the king’s party sallied out toward Smithfield and to the fields whither
the king had retreated; and there were instantly collected from seven to
eight thousand men in arms.
Among the first came Sir Robert Knolles and Sir Perducas d’Albreth well
attended; and several of the aldermen with upward of six hundred men at
arms, and a powerful man of the city called Nicholas Bramber, the king’s
draper, bringing with him a large force, who, as they came up, ranged
themselves in order on foot on each side of him. The rebels were drawn
up opposite them: they had the king’s banners, and showed as if they
intended to maintain their ground by offering combat. The king created
three knights: Sir William Walworth, mayor of London, Sir John
Standwich, and Sir Nicholas Bramber. The lords began to converse among
themselves, saying, “What shall we do? We see our enemies, who would
willingly have murdered us if they had gained the upper hand.” Sir
Robert Knowles advised immediately to fall on them and slay them; but
the king would not consent, saying, “I will not have you act thus: you
shall go and demand from them my banners. We shall see how they will
behave when you make this demand, for I will have them by fair or foul
means.”--“It is a good thought,” replied the Earl of Salisbury.
The new knights were therefore sent, who, on approaching, made signs for
them not to shoot, as they wished to speak with them. When they had come
near enough to be heard, they said, “Now attend: the king orders you to
send back his banners, and we hope he will have mercy on you.” The
banners were directly given up, and brought to the king. It was then
ordered, under pain of death, that all those who had obtained the king’s
letters should deliver them up. Some did so, but not all. The king, on
receiving them, had them torn in their presence. You must know that from
the instant when the king’s banners were surrendered these fellows kept
no order; but the greater part, throwing their bows to the ground, took
to their heels, and returned to London.
Sir Robert Knolles was in a violent rage that they were not attacked,
and the whole of them slain; but the king would not consent to it,
saying he would have ample revenge on them,--which in truth he
afterwards had.
Thus did these people disperse and run away on all sides. The king, the
lords, and the army returned in good array to London, to their great
joy. The king immediately took the road to the Wardrobe to visit the
princess his mother, who had remained there two days and two nights
under the greatest fears, as indeed she had cause. On seeing the king
her son, she was mightily rejoiced, and said, “Ha, ha, fair son! what
pain and anguish have I not suffered for you this day!”--“Certainly,
madam,” replied the king: “I am well assured of that; but now rejoice
and thank God, for it behooves us to praise him, as I have this day
regained my inheritance and the kingdom of England which I had lost.”
The king remained the whole day with his mother. The lords retired to
their own houses. A proclamation was made through all the streets, that
every person who was not an inhabitant of London, and who had not
resided there for a whole year, should instantly depart; for that, if
there were any found of contrary description on Sunday morning at
sunrise, they would be arrested as traitors to the king, and have their
heads cut off. After this proclamation had been heard, no one dared to
infringe it, but all departed instantly to their former homes quite
discomfited. John Ball and Jack Straw were found hidden in an old ruin,
thinking to steal away; but this they could not do, for they were
betrayed by their own men. The king and the lords were well pleased with
their seizure: their heads were cut off, as was that of Tyler, and fixed
on London Bridge in the place of those gallant men whom they beheaded on
the Thursday. The news of this was sent through the neighboring
counties, that those might hear of it who were on their way to London,
according to the orders these rebels had sent them; upon which they
instantly returned to their homes without daring to advance farther.
CHAUCER’S BALLADE SENT TO KING RICHARD.
Somtyme the worlde was so stedfast and stable,
man’s held
That mannes worde was holde obligacioun;
it false deceiving
And now hyt is so fals and disceyvable
deed (as concluding or binding a man)
That worde and dede, as in conclusyoun,
Is like nothing upside-down
Ys lyke noothyng; for turned up-so-doun
all meed (gain)
Is alle this worlde, for mede and wilfulnesse,
lack
That alle is loste for lakke of stedfastnesse.
What maketh this worlde to be so variable
(desire, that folk have, to be in dissension)
But luste, that folke hav in dissensioun?
among now held unfit
For amonges us nowe a man is holde unhable,
if (unless) can some collusion
But yf he kan, by somme collusyoun,
neighbor
Do his neghbor wronge or oppressioun.
wretchedness
What causeth this but wilfulle wrecchednesse,
all is lack
That alle ys loste for lakke of stedfastnesse?
Truth reason
Trouthe is put doun, resoun is holden fable;
Virtue hath no
Vertu hathe now noo dominacioun;
Pity is merciful
Pitee exiled, noo man ys merciable;
Through covetousness blinded
Thurgh covytyse is blente discrecioun;
The worlde hath made permutacioun
From right from truth fickleness
Fro ryht to wrong, fro trouthe to fikelenesse,
That alle ys lost for lakke of stedfastnesse.
LENVOYE.
O Prince desire to be honourable;
Cherish
Cherysshe thy folke, and hate extorsioun;
Suffer
Suffre nothing that may be reprovable
estate done
To thyn estaate, doon in thy regioun;
sword
Shew forth the swerde of castigacioun;
Dread (fear) truth
Drede God, do law, love trouthe and worthinesse,
wed folk again
And wedde thy folke ayeyne to stedfastnesse.
CHAPTER VI.
THE EARL OF FLANDERS AGAIN LAYS SIEGE TO GHENT.
While the affairs you have heard were passing in England, there was no
intermission in the wars which the Earl of Flanders was carrying on
against Ghent, and which those citizens waged against him. You know that
Philip von Artaveld was chosen commander in Ghent, through the
recommendation of Peter du Bois, who advised him, when in office, to
become cruel and wicked to be the more feared. Philip did not forget
this doctrine, for he had not long been governor of Ghent before he had
twelve persons beheaded in his presence: some said they were those who
had been principally concerned in the murder of his father, and thus he
revenged himself on them.
Philip von Artaveld began his reign with great power, and made himself
beloved and feared by many, more especially by those who followed the
profession of arms: for, to gain their favor, he refused them nothing;
every thing was abandoned to them. I may be asked how the Ghent men
were able to carry on this war; and I will answer to the best of my
ability, according to the information I received. They were firmly
united among themselves, and maintained the poor, each according to his
means: thus, by being so firmly united, they were of great force.
Besides, Ghent, taken all together, is one of the strongest towns in the
world, provided Brabant, Zealand, and Holland be not against it; but, in
case these countries were leagued with Flanders, they would be shut up,
surrounded, and starved.
This whole winter of 1382, the Earl and country of Flanders had so much
constrained Ghent, that nothing could enter the place by land or water:
he had persuaded the Duke Brabant and Duke Albert to shut up their
countries so effectually, that no provisions could be exported thence
but secretly and with a great risk to those who attempted it. It was
thought by the most intelligent, that it could not be long before they
perished through famine, for all the storehouses of corn were empty, and
the people could not obtain bread for money: when the bakers had baked
any, it was necessary to guard their shops, for the populace who were
starving would have broken them open. It was melancholy to hear these
poor people (for men, women, and children of good substance were in this
miserable plight) make their daily complaints and cries to Philip von
Artaveld, their commander-in-chief. He took great compassion on them,
and made several very good regulations, for which he was much praised.
He ordered the granaries of the monasteries and rich men to be opened,
and divided the corn among the poor at a fixed price. By such means he
gave comfort to the town of Ghent, and governed it well. Sometimes there
came to them in casks flour and baked bread from Holland and Zealand,
which were of great assistance; for, had they not been thus succored by
those countries, they would have been much sooner defeated.
The Earl of Flanders determined to lay siege to Ghent once more, but
with a much superior army to what he had hitherto brought against it;
for he declared he would invade the Quatre Metiers, and burn and destroy
them, as they had been too active in assisting Ghent. The earl therefore
signified his intentions to all the principal towns in Flanders, that
they might be ready in time. Immediately after the procession at Bruges,
he was to march from hence, to lay siege to Ghent and destroy it. He
wrote also to those knights and squires who were dependent on him in
Hainault, to meet him at Bruges at the appointed day, or even eight days
before.
CHAPTER VII.
THE EARL OF FLANDERS SENDS A HARSH ANSWER TO THOSE WHO WISHED TO MEDIATE
A PEACE BETWEEN HIM AND GHENT.
Notwithstanding all these summons, levies, and orders, which the Earl of
Flanders was issuing, the Duchess of Brabant, Duke Albert, and the
Bishop of Liege exerted themselves so much, that a meeting of their
councils, to consider of the means of establishing a peace, was ordered
to be held in the city of Tournay. The Earl of Flanders, at the request
of these lords and the Duchess of Brabant, although he intended to act
contrary, gave his terms of accommodation; and these conferences were
fixed for the end of Easter, at Tournay, in the year 1382.
Twelve deputies came from the bishopric of Liege and the chief towns,
with Sir Lambert de Perney, a very discreet knight. The Duchess of
Brabant sent her council thither, and some of the principal inhabitants
from the great towns. Duke Albert met likewise his council from
Hainault, his bailiff, Sir Simon de Lalain, with others. All these came
to Tournay in Easter-week; and Ghent sent also twelve deputies, of whom
Philip von Artaveld was the head. The inhabitants of Ghent had resolved
to accede to whatever terms their deputies should agree on, with the
exception that no one was to be put to death; but that, if it pleased
the earl their lord, he might banish from Ghent, and the country of
Flanders, all those who were disagreeable to him, and whom he might wish
to punish, without any possibility of their return. This resolution they
had determined to abide by; and Philip von Artaveld was willing, if he
should have angered the earl ever so little during the time he was
governor of Ghent, to be one of the banished men for life, out of the
regard he had for the lower ranks of people. Certain it is, that, when
he set out from Ghent for Tournay, men, women, and children cast
themselves before him on their knees, and with uplifted hands besought
him, that, at whatever cost it might be, he would bring them back peace;
and, from the pity he felt for them, he had agreed to act as I have just
related.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE CITIZENS OF GHENT, AFTER HAVING HEARD FROM PHILIP VON ARTAVELD
THE TERMS OF PEACE WHICH HE HAD BROUGHT FROM THE CONFERENCES AT
TOURNAY, MARCH OUT, TO THE NUMBER OF FIVE THOUSAND, TO ATTACK THE
EARL OF FLANDERS IN BRUGES.
When Philip von Artaveld and his companions returned to Ghent, great
crowds of the common people, who only wished for peace, were much
rejoiced on his arrival, and hoped to hear from him good news. They went
out to meet him, saying, “Ah, dear Philip von Artaveld, make us happy:
tell us what you have done, and how you have succeeded.” Philip made no
answer to these questions, but rode on, holding down his head: the more
silent he was, the more they followed him, and were the more clamorous.
Once or twice, as he was advancing to his house, he said, “Get you to
your homes, and may God preserve you from harm! To-morrow morning be in
the market-place by nine o’clock, and there you shall hear every thing.”
As they could not obtain any other answer, the people were exceedingly
alarmed.
You may easily imagine, when the day so eagerly expected was come, in
which Philip was to report what had passed in the conferences at
Tournay, that all the inhabitants of Ghent were early in the
market-place. It was on a Wednesday morning, and the time of meeting
nine o’clock. Philip von Artaveld, Peter du Bois, Peter le Nuitre,
Francis Atremen, and the other chiefs came there; and, having entered
the town-hall, they ascended the staircase, when Philip, showing himself
from the windows, thus spoke: “My good friends, the Lord de Raseflez,
the Lord de Gontris, Sir John Villames, and the provost of Harlebecque,
came to Tournay, where they very graciously informed us of the will of
the earl, and the only means of putting an end to this war. They
declared his final terms for peace between him and the inhabitants of
Ghent were, that every male inhabitant, excepting priests and monks,
from the age of sixteen to that of sixty, should march out of the town
in their shirts, with bare heads and feet, and halters about their
necks, and should thus go two leagues or more to the plains of
Burlesquans, where they would meet the Earl of Flanders, attended by
such whom he may choose to bring with him; and that, when he should see
us in this situation, with joined hands, crying out for mercy, he would,
if he pleased, take compassion on us. But I could not learn from his
council, that there was the least plea of justice to put to death such
numbers of people as would be there that day. Now consider if you will
have peace on these terms.”
When Philip had done speaking, it was a melancholy sight to behold men,
women, and children, bewailing, with tears, their husbands, fathers,
brothers, and neighbors.
Those who were near him, and had most distinctly heard what he had said,
replied, “Ah, dear lord, we put our whole confidence in you: what would
you advise us? for we will do whatever you think will be most for our
advantage.”--“By my faith, then,” said Philip, “I would advise that we
all march in arms against my lord. We shall find him at Bruges; and,
when he hears of our coming, he will sally forth, and fight with us; for
the pride of those in Bruges and about his person, who excite him day
and night against us, will urge him to the combat. If God shall, through
his mercy, grant that we gain the field, and defeat our enemies, our
affairs will be instantly retrieved, and we shall be the most respected
people in the universe. If we be defeated, we shall die honorably, and
God will have pity on us; and thus the remainder of the inhabitants of
Ghent will escape and be pardoned by the earl our lord.”
At these words they all shouted out, “We will follow this plan, and no
other!” Philip then said, “My good gentlemen, since you are thus
resolved, return home, and get ready your arms; for in the course of
to-morrow I am determined to march for Bruges: the remaining longer here
will not be to our advantage. Within five days we shall know if we be to
die, or to live with honor. I will order the constables of the different
parishes to go from house to house, and choose the best armed and those
most fit for the service.”
Immediately after the meeting broke up, and every one returned home to
make ready, each according to his abilities. They kept the gates of the
town so closely shut that no person whatever was suffered to come in or
go out before Thursday afternoon, when those who were to march on the
expedition were prepared,--in all about five thousand men, and not more.
They loaded about two hundred carts with cannon and artillery, and only
seven with provisions; that is, five with bread and two with wine, for
there were but two tuns of wine in the town. You may judge from this to
what straits they had been reduced.
It was a miserable spectacle to see those who went and those who
remained. These last said to them, “Good friends, you see what you leave
behind; but never think of returning unless you can do so with honor,
for you will not find any thing here. The moment we hear of your defeat
or death, we will set fire to the town, and perish in the flames, like
men in despair.” Those who were marching out replied, by way of
comforting them, “What you say is very just. Pray God for us; for we
place our hopes in him, and trust he will assist you, as well as us,
before our return.”
Thus did these five thousand men of Ghent march off with their slender
stores, and encamped about a league from Ghent, but touched not their
provision, taking up with what they could find in the country. On Friday
they marched the whole day, and then meddled not with their stores; but
their scouts picked up some few things in the country, with which they
made shift, and fixed their quarters that evening a long league from
Bruges. They halted there, considering it a proper place to wait for
their enemies, for there were in front two extensive marshes, which were
a good defence on one side; and they fortified themselves on the others
with the carriages, and thus passed the night.
CHAPTER IX.
THE ORDER OF BATTLE OF THE GHENT MEN.--THEY DEFEAT THE EARL OF
FLANDERS AND THE MEN OF BRUGES.--THE MEANS BY WHICH THIS WAS
BROUGHT ABOUT.
The Saturday was a fine bright day; and, being the feast of the Holy
Cross, the inhabitants of Bruges, according to custom, made their usual
processions. News was soon brought to Bruges, that the Ghent army was
near at hand; so that every one began to murmur until the earl heard it,
as well as those about his person. He was much surprised, and said, “See
how the wickedness of these mad and foolish people of Ghent leads them
to their destruction: indeed, it is time this war should be put an end
to.” His knights and others instantly waited on him, whom he very
graciously received, and said, “We will go and fight these wicked
people: however, they show courage in preferring death by the sword
rather than famine.” They determined to send out three men at arms to
examine the force and situation of the enemy. The Marshal of Flanders
ordered three valiant squires on this service, whose names were Lambert
de Lambres, Damas de Buffy, and John de Béart: they set out, mounted on
the finest horses in the town, and advanced toward the Ghent army. While
this was going forward, every person in Bruges made himself ready, and
showed the most eager desire to sally forth and combat the men of Ghent;
of whom I will now say a word, and of the manner in which they had drawn
themselves up.
On the Saturday morning, Philip von Artaveld ordered his whole army to
pay their devotions to God, and masses to be said in different places
(for there were with them several monks), that every man should confess
himself and make other becoming preparations, and that they should pray
to God with that truth, as people looking to him alone for mercy. All
this was done, and mass celebrated in seven different places. After each
mass was a sermon, which lasted an hour and a half. The monks and
priests endeavored, by their discourses, to show the great similitude
between them and the people of Israel, whom Pharaoh, king of Egypt,
detained so long in slavery; and who, through God’s grace, were
delivered, and conducted by Moses and Aaron into the land of promise,
while Pharaoh and the Egyptians were drowned. “In like manner, my good
people,” preached the monks, “have you been kept in bondage by your
lord, the Earl of Flanders, and by your neighbors of Bruges, whom you
are now to meet, and by whom you will, without doubt, be combated, for
your enemies are in great numbers, and have little fear of your force.
But do not you mind this; for God, who can do all things, and is
acquainted with your situation, will have mercy on you: therefore, think
of nothing but what you have left behind, for you well know that every
thing is lost if you be defeated. Sell yourselves well and valiantly;
and, if you must die, die with honor. Do not be alarmed if great numbers
issue forth from Bruges against you; for victory is not to the
multitude, but whither God shall please to send it, and by his grace it
has been often seen, as well by the Maccabees as the Romans, that those
who fought manfully, and confided in God, discomfited the greater
number. Besides, you have justice and reason on your side in this
quarrel, which ought to make you feel yourselves bold and better
comforted.” In such words as these the priests had been ordered to
preach to the army, and with these discourses they were well pleased.
Three parts of them communicated, and all showed great devotion and much
fear in God.
After the sermons the whole army assembled round a small hill, on which
Philip von Artaveld placed himself in order to be the better heard, and
harangued them very ably, explaining to them every point in which they
were justified in this war; and how Ghent had frequently sought pardon
from the earl, and never could obtain it without submitting to
conditions too hard for the town and its inhabitants; that now they had
advanced so far, they could not retreat; and that, if they would
consider, they would see nothing could be gained, were they to return,
for all they had left behind were in sorrow and misery. They ought not,
therefore, to think of Ghent, their wives and children who were in it,
but to act in such manner as was becoming their honor. Philip von
Artaveld addressed many more fine speeches to them, for he was very
eloquent, and had words at command, which was fortunate for him; and
toward the end he added, “My good friends, you see here all your
provision: divide it among you fairly, like brethren, without any
disturbance; for, when it is gone, you must conquer more if you wish to
live.”
At these words they drew up very regularly, and unloaded the carts, when
the bags of bread were given out to be divided by constable-wicks, and
the two tuns of wine placed on their bottoms; and there they moderately
breakfasted, each man having a sufficiency at that time,--after which
breakfast they found themselves more determined, and active on their
feet, than if they had eaten more. This repast being over, they put
themselves in order, and retired within their ribaudeaus. These
ribaudeaus are tall stakes, with points shod with iron, which they were
always accustomed to carry with them. They fixed them in front of their
army, and enclosed themselves within.
The three knights who had been sent by the earl to reconnoitre found
them in this situation. They approached the entrances of these
ribaudeaus; but the Ghent men never moved, and rather seemed rejoiced to
see them. They returned to Bruges, where they found the earl in his
palace, surrounded by many knights, waiting for them, to hear what
intelligence they had brought back. They pushed through the crowd, and
came near the earl, when they spoke aloud, for the earl wished all
present to hear, and said they had advanced so close to the Ghent army,
that they might have shot at them if they had so chosen, but they left
them in peace; and that they had seen their banners, and the army
enclosed within their ribaudeaus. “And what are their numbers, think
ye?” said the earl. They answered, that, as near as they could guess,
they might be from five to six thousand. “Well,” said the earl, “now let
every one instantly get ready; for I will give them battle, and this day
shall not pass without a combat.” At these words the trumpet sounded in
Bruges, when every one armed himself, and made for the market-place. As
they came, they drew up under their proper banners, as they had usually
done, in bands and constable-wicks.
Many barons, knights, and men at arms drew up before the palace of the
earl. When all was ready, and the earl armed, he came to the
market-place, and was much pleased to see such numbers in battle-array.
They then marched off (for none dared disobey his commands), and in
order of battle made for the plain. The men at arms afterwards issued
forth from Bruges. It was a handsome sight, for there were upward of
forty thousand armed heads; and thus horse and foot advanced in proper
order, near to the place where the Ghent men were, and then halted. It
was late in the afternoon when the earl and his army arrived, and the
sun going down. One of the knights said to the earl, “My lord, you now
see your enemies: they are but a handful of men in comparison with your
army, and as they cannot escape, do not engage them this day, but wait
for to-morrow, when you will have the day before you: you will, besides,
have more light to see what you are about; and they will be weaker, for
they have not any thing to eat.”
The earl approved much this advice, and would willingly have followed
it; but the men of Bruges, impatient to begin the fight, would not wait,
saying they would soon defeat them and return back to their town.
Notwithstanding the orders of the men at arms (for the earl had not less
than eight hundred lances, knights, and squires), the Bruges men began
to shoot and to fire cannons.
The Ghent men, being collected in a body on an eminence, fired at once
three hundred cannon; after which they turned the marsh, and placed the
Bruges men with the sun in their eyes, which much distressed them, and
then fell upon them, shouting out, “Ghent!” The moment the men of Bruges
heard the cannon and the cry of Ghent, and saw them marching to attack
them in front, they, like cowards, opened their ranks, and, letting the
Ghent men pass without making any defence, flung down their staves, and
ran away. The Ghent men were in close order, and, perceiving their
enemies were defeated, began to knock down and kill on all sides. They
advanced with a quick step, shouting, “Ghent!” and saying, “Let us
pursue briskly our enemies, who are defeated, and enter the town with
them: God eyes us this day with looks of pity.”
They followed those of Bruges with so much courage, that, whenever they
knocked down or killed any one, they marched on without halting or
quitting the pursuit, while the men of Bruges fled with the haste of a
defeated army. I must say that at this place there were multitudes of
slain, wounded, and thrown down, for they made no defence; and never
were such cowardly wretches as those of Bruges, or who more weakly or
recreantly behaved themselves, after their insolence when they first
took the field. Some may wish to excuse them by supposing there might
have been treason, which caused this defeat. This was not so; but such
poor and weak conduct fell on their own heads.
CHAPTER X.
BRUGES IS TAKEN BY THE GHENT ARMY.--THE EARL OF FLANDERS SAVES HIMSELF
IN THE HOUSE OF A POOR WOMAN.
When the Earl of Flanders and the men at arms saw that by the miserable
defence of the men of Bruges they had caused their own defeat, and that
there was not any remedy for it, for every man was running away as fast
as he could, they were much surprised, and began to be alarmed for
themselves, and to make off in different directions. It is true, that,
had they seen any probability of recovering the loss which the Bruges
men were suffering, they would have done some deeds of arms by which
they might have rallied them a little; but they saw it was hopeless, for
they were flying to Bruges in all directions, and neither the son waited
for the father, nor the father for his child.
The men at arms therefore began to break their ranks. Few had any desire
to return to Bruges, for the crowd was so great on the road thither,
that it was painful to see and hear the complaints of the wounded and
hurt. The men of Ghent were close at their heels, shouting out, “Ghent,
Ghent!” knocking down all that obstructed them. The greater part of the
men at arms had never before been in such peril: even the earl was
advised to make for Bruges, and to have the gates closed and guarded, so
that the Ghent men should not be able to force them, and become masters
of the town. The Earl of Flanders saw no help for his men, who were
flying on all sides; and, as it was now dark night, followed this
advice, and took the road to Bruges, his banner displayed before him.
He entered the gates one of the first, with about forty others, for no
more had followed him. He ordered the guards to defend the gates if the
Ghent men should come hither; and then rode to his palace, from whence
he issued a proclamation that every person, under pain of death, should
assemble in the market-place. The intention of the earl was to save the
town by this means; but it did not succeed, as you shall hear.
While the earl was in his palace, and had sent the clerks of the
different trades from street to street to hasten the inhabitants to the
market-place in order to preserve the city, the men of Ghent, having
closely pursued their enemies, entered the town with them, and instantly
made for the market-place, without turning to the right or left, where
they drew themselves up in array. Sir Robert Mareschaut, one of the
earl’s knights, had been sent to the gates to see they were guarded;
but, while the earl was planning means for defending the town, Sir
Robert found a gate flung off its hinges, and the Ghent men masters of
it. Some of the citizens said to him, “Robert, Robert, return and save
yourself, if you can, for the Ghent men have taken the town.” The knight
returned as speedily as he could to the earl, whom he met coming out of
his palace on horseback, with a number of torches. The knight told him
what he had heard; but notwithstanding this, the earl, anxious to defend
the town, advanced toward the market-place, and as he was entering it
with a number of torches, shouting, “Flanders for the Lyon! Flanders for
the earl!” those near his horse and about his person, seeing the place
full of Ghent men, said, “My lord, return; for if you advance farther
you will be slain, or at the best made prisoner by your enemies, as
they are drawn up in the square and are waiting for you.”
They told him truth; for the Ghent men, seeing the great blaze of
torches in the street, said, “Here comes my lord, here comes the earl:
how he falls into our hands!” Philip von Artaveld had given orders to
his men, that, if the earl should come, every care was to be taken to
preserve him from harm, in order that he might be carried alive and in
good health to Ghent, when they should be able to obtain what peace they
chose. The earl had entered the square, near where the Ghent men were
drawn up, when several people came to him and said, “My lord, do not
come further; for the Ghent men are masters of the market-place and of
the town, and if you advance you will run a risk of being taken. Numbers
of them are now searching for their enemies from street to street; and
many of the men of Bruges have joined them, who conduct them from hotel
to hotel to seek those whom they want. You cannot pass any of the gates
without danger of being killed, for they are in their possession; nor
can you return to your palace, for a large rout of Ghent men have
marched thither.”
When the earl heard this speech, which was heart-breaking as you may
guess, he began to be much alarmed, and to see the peril he was in. He
resolved to follow the advice of not going further, and to save himself
if he could, which was confirmed by his own judgment. He ordered the
torches to be extinguished, and said to those about him, “I see clearly
that affairs are without remedy: I therefore give permission for every
one to depart, and save himself in the best manner he can.” His orders
were obeyed. The torches were put out, and thrown in the streets; and
all who were in company with the earl separated and went away. He
himself went to a by-street, where he was disarmed by his servant, and,
throwing down his clothes, put on his servant’s, saying, “Go about thy
business, and save thyself if thou canst; but be silent if thou fall
into the hands of my enemies, and if they ask any thing about me do not
give them any information.”--“My lord,” replied the valet, “I will
sooner die.”
The Earl of Flanders thus remained alone, and it may be truly said he
was in the greatest danger; for it was over with him if he had at that
hour, by any accident, fallen into the hands of the mob, who were going
up and down the streets, searching every house for the friends of the
earl; and whomsoever they found they carried before Philip von Artaveld
and the other captains in the market-place, when they were instantly put
to death. It was God alone who watched over him, and delivered him from
this peril; for no one had ever before been in such imminent danger, as
I shall presently relate. The earl inwardly bewailed his situation from
street to street at this late hour; for it was a little past midnight,
and he dared not enter any house, lest he should be seized by the mobs
of Ghent and Bruges. Thus, as he was rambling through the streets, he at
last entered the house of a poor woman, a very unfit habitation for such
a lord, as there were neither halls nor apartments, but a small house,
dirty and smoky, and as black as jet: there was only in this place one
poor chamber, over which was a sort of garret that was entered by means
of a ladder of seven steps, where, on a miserable bed, the children of
this woman lay.
The earl entered this house with fear and trembling, and said to the
woman, who was also much frightened, “Woman, save me: I am thy lord, the
Earl of Flanders; but at this moment I must hide myself, for my enemies
are in pursuit of me; and I will handsomely reward thee for the favor
thou showest me.” The poor woman knew him well, for she had frequently
received alms at his door; and had often seen him pass and repass when
he was going to some amusement or hunting. She was ready with her
answers, in which God assisted the earl; for, had she delayed it ever so
little, they would have found him in conversation with her by the
fireside. “My lord, mount this ladder, and get under the bed in which my
children sleep.” This he did, while she employed herself by the
fireside, with another child in a cradle.
The Earl of Flanders mounted the ladder as quickly as he could, and,
getting between the straw and the coverlet, hid himself, and contracted
his body into as little space as possible. He had scarcely done so, when
some of the mob of Ghent entered the house. One of them took a candle,
and mounted the ladder, and, thrusting his head into the place, saw
nothing but the wretched bed in which the children were asleep. He
looked all about him, above and below, and then said to his companions,
“Come, come, let us go: we only lose our time here.”
The Earl of Flanders, hearing all this conversation as he lay hid, you
may easily imagine, was in the greatest fear of his life. In the morning
he could have said he was one of the most powerful princes in
Christendom, and that same night he felt himself one of the smallest.
One may truly say that the fortunes of this world are not stable. It was
fortunate for him to save his life; and this miraculous escape ought to
be to him a remembrance his whole lifetime.
CHAPTER XI.
THE EARL OF FLANDERS QUITS BRUGES, AND RETURNS TO LILLE, WHITHER SOME OF
HIS PEOPLE HAD ALREADY RETREATED.
I was informed, and believe my authority good, that on the Sunday
evening, when it was dark, the Earl of Flanders escaped from Bruges. I
am ignorant how he accomplished it, or if he had any assistance, but
some I believe he must have had. He got out of the town on foot, clad in
a miserable jerkin, and when in the fields was quite joyous, as he might
then say he had escaped from the utmost peril. He wandered about at
first, and came to a thornbush to consider whither he should go; for he
was unacquainted with the roads or country, having never before
travelled on foot. As he lay thus hid under the bush, he heard some one
talk, who by accident was one of his knights, that had married a bastard
daughter of his: his name was Sir Robert Mareschaut. The earl, hearing
him talk as he was passing, said to him, “Robert, art thou there?” The
knight, who well knew his voice, replied, “My lord, you have this day
given me great uneasiness in seeking for you all round Bruges: how were
you able to escape?”--“Come, come, Robert,” said the earl: “this is not
a time to tell one’s adventures: endeavor to get me a horse, for I am
tired with walking, and take the road to Lille, if thou knowest
it.”--“My lord,” answered the knight, “I know it well.” They then
travelled all night and the morrow till early morn, before they could
procure a horse. The first beast they could find was a mare belonging to
a poor man in a village. The earl mounted the mare, without saddle or
bridle, and, travelling all Monday, came, toward evening, to the castle
of Lille, whither a great part of his knights who had escaped from the
battle of Bruges had retired. They had got off as well as they could,
some on foot, others on horseback: but all did not follow this road;
some went by water to Holland and Zealand, where they remained until
they received better news.
CHAPTER XII.
THE DUKE OF BURGUNDY INSTIGATES HIS NEPHEW KING CHARLES TO MAKE WAR
ON GHENT AND ITS ALLIES, AS WELL IN REVENGE FOR THE BURNT VILLAGES
AS TO ASSIST IN THE RECOVERY OF FLANDERS FOR THE EARL, WHO WAS HIS
VASSAL.
The Duke of Burgundy was not forgetful of the engagements he had entered
into with his lord and father the Earl of Flanders. He set out from
Bapaume attended by Sir Guy de la Trémouille and Sir John de Vienne,
Admiral of France, who were very desirous the earl should be assisted.
These two were the principal persons of his council. They continued
their journey until they arrived at Senlis, where the king was with his
two uncles of Berry and Bourbon. When he found an opportunity, he drew
his brother the Duke of Berry aside, and explained to him how the Ghent
men, in the insolence of their pride, were endeavoring to be masters
everywhere, and to destroy all gentlemen; that they had already burnt
and pillaged part of the kingdom of France, which was much to the
prejudice and dishonor of the realm, and ought not to be patiently
borne.