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i 


Jpi 


Passages  from  Froissart. 
With  an  Introduction  by 
Frank  T.  Marzials. 


LONDON:    WALTER   SCOTT,    LTD. 
PATERNOSTER    SQUARE. 


HENRY  MORSE  STEPHENS 


2>  113 
HAfN 


CONTENTS, 


PAGE 

INTRODUCTION     .           .           . vii 

froissart's  preface I 

THE  BRAVEST  KNIGHTS   OF  THIS   CHRONICLE              .           .  3 

DEATH   OF   ROBERT   BRUCE,    KING   OF  SCOTLAND       .           .  4 

THE     NAVAL     ENGAGEMENT     BETWEEN     THE     KING      OF 

ENGLAND  AND  THE   FRENCH   BEFORE  SLUVS           .  7 

EDWARD   III.    AND   THE   COUNTESS   OF   SALISBURY    .           .  II 

MURDER   OF  JACOB   VON   ARTAVELD   AT   GHENT         .           .  16 

THE  BATTLE  OF  CRECY 24 

THE    TOWN   OF  CALAIS    SURRENDERS    TO    THE   KING   OF 

ENGLAND 43 

THE   BATTLE   OF   POITIERS 47 

THE  JACQUERIE 75 

DEATH   OF  SIR  JOHN   CHANDOS 79 

AFFAIRS   IN   AFRICA 87 

A  PASSAGE   OF  ARMS lOI 

TILTS     AND     TOURNAMENTS     PERFORMED     BEFORE     THE 
EARL       OF       BUCKINGHAM       BETWEEN       CERTAIN 

FRENCH   AND   ENGLISH    KNIGHTS     .           .           .           .  I05 


511813 


vi  CONTENTS. 

WAT  TYLER'S   REBELLION 

ESCAPE  OF  THE   EARL  OF   FLANDERS    FROM   BRUGES 

BATTLE  OF  ROSEBECQUE  AND  DEATH  OF  PHILIP  VON 
ARTAVELD  

EXPEDITION  OF  SIR  JOHN  DE  VIENNE,  ADMIRAL  OF 
FRANCE,  TO  SCOTLAND,  TO  CARRY  ON  THE  WAR 
AGAINST  THE  ENGLISH  AT  THE  EXPIRATION  OF 
THE  TRUCE         

THE  COURT  OF  THE  COUNT  DE  FOIX,  THE  CRUEL 
DEATH  OF  HIS  ONLY  SON,  AND  THE  STRANGE 
DREAMS  THAT  AFFECT  SIR  PETER  DE  BEARN, 
BASTARD   BROTHER   TO   THE  COUNT 

TROUBLES   IN   ENGLAND   IN  THE  REIGN   OF   RICHARD  II 

BATTLE  BETWEEN  THE  SCOTS  AND  ENGLISH  AT  OTTER 
BOURNE     


MADNESS   OF   THE   FRENCH   KING,   CHARLES   VL 
FROISSART'S   VISIT  TO  THE  COURT    OF   RICHARD   H. 
THE  DEATH   OF   KING   RICHARD  .  .  .  . 


PAGE 

IIO 

I'll 


136 


i;2 


175 
188 

204 
230 
240 
258 


INTRODUCTION 


"Did  you  ever  read  Froissart?"  inquired  Claverhouse  of 
Morton,  as  the  two  were  riding  side  by  side,  in  courteous 
colloquy  though  the  latter  was  Claverhouse's  prisoner. 
"  '  No,'  was  Morton's  answer.  *  I  have  half  a  mind,'  said 
Claverhouse,  *  to  contrive  you  should  have  six  months' 
imprisonment,  in  order  to  procure  you  that  pleasure.  His 
chapters  inspire  me  with  more  enthusiasm  than  even  poetry 
itself.'"  Thus  speaks  Sir  Walter  Scott  through  the  lips  of 
the  ruthless  enemy  of  the  Covenanters; — and  Michelet  calls 
Froissart  the  Scott  of  the  Fourteenth  Century.  There  is  a 
pleasure  in  bringing  together  the  two  great  names — in  making 
Scott,  as  it  were,  smile  encouragement  on  this  attempt  to 
popularise  once  more  the  great  writer  who,  five  hundred 
years  ago,  showed  so  much  of  Scott's  own  temper  and 
spirit,  so  very  much  of  Scott's  gift  as  a  narrator  and 
marshaller  of  stirring  events. 

Jean  Froissart  first  saw  the  light  in  Hainault,  at 
Valenciennes,  a  city  of  no  mean  pretensions  in  the  four- 
teenth century,  and  boasting  a  brisk  trade,  and  commercial 
relations  extending  even  so  far  as  London.  The  exact  date 
of  his  birth  is  not  known,  but  probably  the  event  occurred 
somewhere  towards  the  end  of  the  year  1337  or  1338.     Nor 


viii  INTRODUCTION, 

do  we  know,  with  any  degree  of  certainty,  what  was  his  father's 
profession  or  social  position.  Biographers,  judging  from  one 
or  two  ambiguous  passages  in  the  son's  poems,  have  sur- 
mised that  Froissart  the  elder  was  a  painter,  and  specially 
a  painter  of  coats-of-arms.  But  this,  though  it  would,  no 
doubt,  fall  in  well  with  the  fitness  of  things,  is  mere  con- 
jecture. The  probability,  such  as  it  is,  seems  rather  to  be 
that  he  was  an  honest  tradesman  of  the  good  city.  As  to 
the  mother,  or  possible  brothers  and  sisters,  we  again  know 
nothing. 

Amid  all  this  darkness,  one  gets,  however,  a  kind  of 
glimmer,  rather  perhaps  than  any  very  definite  light,  over 
the  lad's  childhood  and  youth.  Boys  will  be  boys,  and 
Froissart  tells  us,  in  one  of  his  poems^ — looking  backwards, 
as  grown  men  will,  with  a  great  tenderness — how  he  had 
spent  the  happy  days  of  his  earlier  life.  He  had  made  dirt 
pies — "  pasties,  round  loaves,  flauns,  and  tartlets,"  to  be 
specific;  he  had  caught  butterflies,  and  caused  them — "that 
age  is  without  pity,"  says  La  Fontaine — to  flutter  at  the 
end  of  a  thread; — he  had  dammed  the  local  rivulets,  and 
shown  his  engineering  skill  as  a  constructor  of  sluices  and 
water-mills;  he  had  practised  the  high  jump  with  his 
companions;  he  had  played  at  many  games,  all  duly 
enumerated,  but  under  names  that  puzzle  the  archseologist 
— names,  however,  beneath  which  one  discerns,  or  fancies 
one  discerns,  prototypes  of  hide-and-seek,  hare-and-hounds, 
blindman's  buff,  prisoner's  base,  a  whole  joyous  host  of 
childish  pastimes,  old  and  yet  eternally  new.  For  chess  and 
draughts  he  cared  but  little.  All  his  delight  was  in  games 
that  called  forth  the  play  of  his  young  muscles.  *'  At  such 
games,"  says  he,  "  full  often  have  I  been  well  weary." 

'  Le  Treitie  de  V Espiuette  ai/iourcitsc—"' T\\c  Treatise  of  the  liille 
Thorn  of  Love." 


JNTBODUCTION,  is 

Then,  as  he  says  again,  with  tlic  years  of  growing  wisdom 
he  was  made  to  learn  Latin ;  and,  when  liis  construing 
proved  to  be  faulty,  due  chastisement  followed.  It  followed 
too  when  he  tore  his  clothes;  for  at  about  this  time  a 
pombative  spirit  led  him  into  numberless  encounters, 
"beating  and  being  beaten,"  to  the  great  detriment  of  his 
wardrobe,  and  doubtless  to  the  exasperation  of  his  careful 
mother.  Whereupon  he  was  "  brought  to  reason "  with 
many  blows,  but  small  result.  "Their  trouble  was  but 
lost,"  he  declares,  "for  no  sooner  did  I  sec  one  of  my 
companions  going  before  me  along  the  street  than  I  found 
some  excuse  for  fisticuffs."  At  the  same  time,  for  this,  I 
should  gather,  was  when  he  had  about  reached  the  age  of 
twelve,  he  delighted  much  in  seeing  dances  and  mummings, 
and  in  listening  to  minstrels  and  tellers  of  stories;  and  he 
also  took  much  pleasure  in  the  society  of  "  those  who  love 
dogs  and  hawks."  There  were  girls  too  at  the  school  to 
which  he  went — girls  whose  favour  the  youngling  squire 
sought  to  win,  in  all  innocence,  by  such  gifts  as  an  apple 
or  a  pear,  "holding  it" — for  those  were  days  of  chivalry — 
"  holding  it  a  high  thing  to  have  acquired  their  grace." 

'*  Oh,  when  I  was  a  tiny  boy, 

My  days  and  nights  were  full  of  joy  ! " 

So  sings  Tom  Hood.  So  too,  some  five  hundred  years 
before  him,  had  Froissart  sung,  in  words  which  may  be 
very  freely  paraphrased  as  follows : — 

*'  Thus  did  I  pass  in  great  delight 
That  time — for  which  to  God  be  praise ! 
Since  all  things  came  to  me  aright, 
Silence  or  speech,  and  quiet  days 
Or  joyful  days  of  glad  unrest, — 
Each  in  its  sequenae  seeming  best. 


INTRODUCTION. 

And  rich  I  was — richer,  God  wot, 
When  in  my  hand  I  held  a  crown 
Of  violet  or  forget-me-not 
To  deck  the  maidens  of  our  town, 
Richer  than  if  some  baron  bold 
Gave  me  to-day  ten  marks  of  gold- 


Glad  was  my  heart,  and  gentle  too, 
My  spirits  light,  as  light  as  air. 
So  blithe  I  piped  as  birdlings  do, 
So  brisk  I  fluttered  here  and  there. 
All  mine  the  hours  in  those  glad  days, 
For  which  again  to  God  be  praise ! " 


There  is  something  altogether  fresh  and  pleasant  about 
this  glimpse  of  boyhood  in  the  fourteenth  century.  The 
lad  was  clearly  a  fine,  manly  little  fellow,  loving  the 
open  air,  keen  at  his  games,  curious  in  matters  of  sport, 
ready  enough  to  drink  delight  of  battle,  not  at  all  unduly 
depressed  by  such  untoward  incidents  as  a  little  personal 
chastisement  from  a  worthy  pedagogue.  Mutatis  mutandis^ 
he  might  almost  have  been  one  of  Tom  Brown's  school- 
fellows at  Rugby.  Perhaps,  however,  on  the  whole  he  had 
more  of  artistic  and  literary  taste  than  that  excellent  young 
barbarian.  For  he  loved  flowers — roses  and  violets, — and 
when  winter  came,  and  the  weather  grew  wet  and  ugly, 
then  full  willingly  did  he  betake  himself  to  the  reading 
of  romances,  and  "especially" — here  boyhood  is  merging 
into  adolescence — and  "especially  the  treatises  on  love"; — 
for  "  in  reading  these,"  he  says,  "  I  conceived  much  that 
was  pleasant  to  me." 

Like  his  great  English  contemporary,  the  lad  loved  the 
spring.  Chaucer  tells  how  he  was  wont  to  forswear  his 
studies, 


! 

1 


INTRODUCTION.  xi 

"  When  that  the  month  of  May 
Is  comen,  and  that  I  hear  the  foules  sing, 
And  that  the  floures  ginnen  for  to  spring," 

at  which  times,  he  says, 

•'  Farewell  my  booke  and  my  devotion  !  " 

And  he  tells  us  further  how,  on  the  May  mornings,  before 
the  dawn,  he  would  wander  forth  into  the  meadows  to  catch 
the  daisies  still  asleep,  and  watch  them  open  to  the  sun. 
So  Froissart  relates,  in  very  similar  language,  how  one 
morning,  "in  the  pretty  month  of  May,"  he  went  out  into 
a  little  garden  close.  It  was  again  just  before  the  dawn. 
The  firmament  was  still  full  of  stars,  but  Lucifer  had 
already  begun  to  drive  away  the  darkness.  Never  before, 
"so  might  God  help  him,"  had  he  seen  such  beautiful 
weather.  The  birds  sang.  His  heart  sang  with  them. 
Everything  seemed  to  smile  upon  him.  Suddenly,  as  it 
had  happened  to  Chaucer  when  the  "God  of  Love"  and 
Alcestis  came  to  him  from  dreamland,  so  to  the  boy 
Froissart,  standing  beneath  a  May-tree  in  bloom,  there 
came,  "he  knew  not  how" — in  vision  possibly — three 
ladies  and  a  youth.  The  youth  announced  himself  as  Mer- 
curius,  and  introduced  the  ladies  as  Juno,  Pallas,  and  Venus, 
saying  that  the  two  former  still  misdoubted  the  justice  of 
the  judgment  delivered  by  Paris,  and  would  be  glad  if  he, 
Froissart,  could  see  his  way  to  revise  the  sentence.  Frois- 
sart modestly  demurred.  He  was  young  and  ignorant. 
His  means  were  but  slender.  "Seeing,  however,  that  in 
age  and  worldly  possessions  are  malice,  hatred,  and  envy," 
Mercurius  would  take  no  denial;  and  the  boy,  having  con- 
sidered the  case,  came  again  to  the  old  conclusion.  He 
would  "  hold  and  maintain,  in  all  place  and  circumstance," 
that  in  giving  the  apple  to  Venus,  and  so  winning  "  Elaine," 


xii  INTRODUCTION. 

Paris  had  done  well.  "  I  knew  it  would  be  so,"  observes 
Mercurius  dryly;  "all  lovers  go  that  gate." 

Dame  Venus,  as  of  old,  proved  not  ungrateful.  With 
gracious  words  she  bestowed  on  him  this  guerdon,  that 
"from  that  day  forth,  and  live  as  long  as  he  might,  he 
should  have  a  heart  gay,  joyous,  and  loving,"— for  "  better 
will  it  be  for  you,"  she  said,  "to  have  joy  of  heart  than 
great  possessions,  since  wealth  full  oft  takes  to  itself  wings, 
while  happiness  abides."  And  further,  "the  better  to  com- 
plete her  gift,"  she  would  "  engraft  into  his  heart  this  virtue, 
that  he  should  obey  and  fear  a  lady  beautiful,  young  and 
gracious,  and  love  her  with  all  his  heart,"  for,  as  she 
assured  him,  "love  without  fear  is  of  no  value;"  and  she 
assured  him  further,  that  such  pleasure  would  he  take  in 
his  lady's  "  government  and  sweet  constancy,"  that  "  more 
than  a  thousand  times  a  week"  he  would  "say  to  himself" 
that  "  Helen,  for  whom  Paris  endured  such  sorrows,"  was 
not  the  peer  of  his  love. 

Thereafter,  "  remembering  but  too  well  the  goddess'  very 
great  beauty,"  he  wandered  full  oft  into  "the  fields,  the 
gardens,  and  the  woods,"  hoping  to  have  sight  of  her  once 
more.  Such  sight  was  never  vouchsafed  to  him;  so  that 
sometimes  he  almost  came  to  think  that  she  had  only 
visited  him  in  dreamland, — when  suddenly  that  occurred 
which  reassured  his  waning  faith.  For  one  day,  "just  at 
the  hour  of  prime,"  he  came,  wandering  as  "young  men 
will,"  to  a  certain  place,  and  there  found  a  lady  reading 
a  romance.  He  went  to  her,  and  "said  softly,  calling  her 
by  her  name,"  "  Oh  !  fair  and  sweet,  what  romance  is  this 
that  you  are  reading  ?  "  To  which  she  answered  courteously, 
"It  is  called  Cleomades; — and  is  well  and  lovingly  writ 
and  endited,  as  you  shall  hear,  if  it  pleases  you  to  give  me 
your  opinion  of  it.**     Then  the  boy  looked  at  her  "sweet 


INTRODUCTION.  xlfi 

face,"  her  "fresh  colour,"  her  "eyes  so  green,"  her  "hair 
that  was  lighter  than  flax  is  light,"  her  peerless  hands, — 
"  Ah !  God,  how  beautiful  she  was,  and  of  gay  carriage, 
and  of  fair  body."  "Fair  one,"  he  said,  "readily  will  I 
listen  to  your  reading.  There  is  no  sound  of  instrument 
in  which  I  should  take  such  pleasure."  Whereupon  the 
lady  laughed  softly  and  sweetly,  "  but  not  too  long  " — for 
her  bearing  was  perfect — and  then  read  to  him  for  a  space. 
After  which  she  asked  him  graciously  if  he  would  not  read 
a  little.  So,  "not  daring  to  contradict  her,"  he  read  a  few 
leaves — he  "  knew  not  how  many,  two  or  three."  Then  they 
read  no  more,  but  fell  to  talking  of  this  and  that,  "as  young 
people  use";  but  "full  well  I  know,"  says  Froissart,  "that 
at  that  hour  the  God  of  Love  ran  towards  me,  and  wounded 
me  with  his  arrow  .  .  .  ;  and  there  it  was,  God  help  me, 
that  Belle  et  Bonne  " — the  Fair  and  Good — "  with  one  look 
of  hers,  threw  me  into  love-sickness." 

Alas!  poor  squire; — for  Cupid,  as  he  says,  proved 
recreant  on  the  occasion,  and  did  not  wound  the  lady  as 
he  had  wounded  her  lover.  Was  Belle  et  Bonne  then  a 
coquette?  Froissart,  in  his  utter  loyalty  and  devotion, 
breathes  no  such  word,  suggests  no  such  thought.  Who 
was  he,  Cupid's  vassal,  to  question  Cupid's  acts?  "I 
excuse  him,  as  I  am  in  duty  bound  to  excuse  him,"  he 
cries.  Perad venture  the  archer-god  had  already  shot  his 
"sweet  and  joyous"  shaft  at  "the  lady,  and  caused  her  to 
love  some  other."  Were  it  so,  Froissart  would  utter  no 
word  of  blame,  either  as  regards  the  lady  or  the  god. 
Whatsoever  they  did,  even  though  he  might  suffer  for  it, 
was  well  done.  But  we,  who  are,  possibly,  not  Cupid's 
thralls,  and  have  certainly  never  come  under  the  spells  of 
Belle  et  Bonne  in  her  youth  and  beauty — we,  I  think,  while 
exonerating   the   irresponsible    love-god,    may    venture    to 


xiv  INTRODUCTION. 

doubt  whether  the  lady,  though  doubtless  fair,  was  so  alto- 
gether good,  and  whether  she  did  not,  from  that  hour 
forth,  play  with  her  admirer. 

"  When  the  time  came  for  parting,"  she  "  laughed,"  and 
said  to  him,  "very  lovingly,"  "come  back  to  us,  for,  in 
truth,  I  take  great  pleasure  in  your  reading,  and  would  not 
forego  it  on  any  account."  Of  course  he  came  back.  Of 
course  he  fluttered  about  her,  now  full  of  hope,  more  often 
full  of  fears,  elated  when  she  gave  him  a  smile,  depressed 
and  indignant  when  he  noticed  how  freely  she  bestowed 
her  smiles  on  others.  She  asks  him  if  he  cannot  lend  her  a 
book; — he  lends  her  one,  and  places  between  the  leaves, 
"  neatly  writ  in  a  little  schedule,"  a  ballade  in  her  honour. 
She  thanks  him  for  the  loan,  and  returns  the  book  shortly, 
and  again  with  thanks, — but  alas  !  returns  the  poem  also. 
Anon  he  carries  to  her  a  "vermeil  rose," — and  this  gift 
she  receives  "gently"  and  "with  a  little  smile" — which 
"gives  him  great  joy  and  great  good."  Then  he  meets  her 
at  a  dance,  holds  her  by  her  finger,  and  presses  it  slightly 
and  tenderly, — and,  in  a  pause  of  the  dance — "sitting  out," 
as  one  may  say — it  all  might  be  happening  at  this  moment 
— he  tries  to  tell  her  of  his  love,  and  she,  with  her  woman's 
wiles,  "looks  at  him  a  little  space,  but  so  as  not  to 
attract  notice,"  and  says,  "let  us  go  on  with  our  dancing, 
for  of  dancing  I  am  never  tired," — and  "  for  a  long  while 
they  fell  into  the  order  of  the  dance." 

Belle  et  Bon?ie,  Belle  et  Bofifie,  you  were  certainly 
playing  with  Master  Jehan  Froissart.  You  were,  I  take  it 
there  is  no  question,  of  better  birth,  and  richer  than  he.  I 
take  it  too,  though  this  is  mere  conjecture,  that  you  were  a 
woman  while  he  was  no  more  than  a  boy.  And  you  liked 
his  love,  when  it  did  not  become  too  pressing,  and  you  were 
flattered  by  his  admiration;  and  what  woman  is  there  who 


INTRODUCTION.  xv 

does  not  feel  pleasure  at  seeing  herself  enshrined  in  a  poet's 
verse?  So  you  smiled  upon  him,  and  listened  to  the  love- 
tones  in  his  voice,  and  read  his  lines; — and  when  he  fell 
sick,  sick  well-nigh  unto  death,  at  hearing  of  your  possible 
marriage,  you  observed,  very  much  like  Barbara  Allen, 
"this  young  man  is  very  ill,  at  which  I  am  sorry"  Nay, 
you  even  expressed  a  hope  that  he  might  get  better.  Your 
real  name,  Belle  et  Bo?ine,  is  unknown  to  us.  We  only 
know  you  by  the  pretty  name  your  poet  gave  you — a  name 
that,  curiously  enough,  was  again  bestowed,  long  centuries 
after  your  death,  on  another  woman  by  another  great 
French  writer,  Voltaire.  But  though  you  are  to  us  not 
even  a  name,  and  scarcely  more  than  a  shadow,  I  take  it 
we  are  justified  in  thinking  of  you  as  little  better  than  a 
flirt. 

Poor  Froissart,  after  being  ill  for  three  months  and  a 
half,  and  exhaling  his  sorrows  in  a  good  many  verses, 
bethought  himself  that  his  pain  might  be  eased  by  change 
of  air  and  scene.  Accordingly  he  left  Valenciennes, 
carrying  with  him  a  precious  mirror,  in  which  the  face  of 
Belle  et  Bon7ie  had  often  been  reflected,  and  made  his 
way  to  the  English  Court.  His  exact  itinerary  cannot  be 
followed.  All  we  know  is,  that  the  passage  was  very 
rough,  and  that  the  young  lover  beguiled  its  discomforts 
and  dangers  by  the  composition  of  three  rather  indifferent 
rondeaux.  Then  he  reached  a  country,  England  to  wit, 
"  which  hates  peace  rather  than  war,"  and  "  where  all  who 
come  are  made  welcome." 

It  was  in  1355,  as  one  conjectures,^  that  Froissart,  now  a 

*  It  must  be  understood  how  conjectural  are  dates  and  facts  in 
Froissart's  history.  This  first  journey  to  England  is  itself  matter  of 
inference.  A  good  deal  depends  on  the  extent  to  which  we  accept  his 
poem  as  being  really  historical. 


xvi  INTROD  UCTION. 

young  fellow  of  eighteen,  undertook  this  journey.  Edward 
III.  then  sat  upon  the  English  throne — he  had  reigned  not 
ingloriously  for  some  twenty-eight  years — and  his  wife  was 
Queen  Philippa, — Philippa  of  Hainault,  as  Froissart  doubt- 
less remembered  very  well  when  he  determined  to  make  his 
way  to  the  English  Court.  Whatever  introductions  he  may 
have  brought  with  him,  she  received  her  brilliant  young 
compatriot  graciously.  Her  heart  went  back  to  the  distant 
days  when  she  had  been  a  girl  in  Valenciennes,  and 
Edward  had  come  thither  with  his  mother — fugitives  from 
England,  driven  out  of  France — and  her  maiden  love  had 
gone  out  to  the  exiled  prince.  This  is  no  mere  fancy 
picture.  Froissart,  chronicling  the  gracious  reception,  in 
1326,  of  Queen  Isabella  and  Edward  by  Count  William  of 
Hainault  and  his  wife,  adds:  "At  that  time  Count  William 
had  four  daughters,  Margaret,  Philippa,  Joan  and  Isabella, 
of  whom  Philippa  was  the  one  towards  whom  the  young 
Edward  most  inclined  in  regard  and  love;  and  also  the 
young  girl  had  more  knowledge  of  him,  and  affected  his 
company  more  than  any  of  her  sisters.  Thus  have  I  heard 
it  told  by  the  good  lady  herself  who  was  erewhile  queen  of 
England,  and  with  whom  I  lived,  and  whom  I  served.  .  .  . 
Such  kindness  did  she  show  me  that  I  am  in  duty  bound  to 
pray  for  her  always." 

Of  her  gracious  reception  of  Froissart,  as  being  a  native 
of  Hainault,  we  have  further  evidence.  When  he  comes, 
in  his  chronicle,  to  speak  of  the  queen's  death,  he  says: 
"  There  fell  in  England  a  heavy  case  and  a  common,  how- 
beit  it  was  right  piteous  for  the  king,  his  children,  and  all 
his  realm.  For  the  good  queen  of  England,  that  so  many 
good  deeds  had  done  in  her  time,  and  so  many  knights 
succoured,  and  ladies  and  damsels  comforted,  and  had  so 
largely  departed  of  her  goods  to  her  people,  and  naiurally 


INTRODUCTION,  xvii 

loved  always  the  nation  of  Hainault^  the  coufjtry  where  she 
was  born :  she  fell  sick  in  the  Castle  of  Windsor,  the  which 
sickness  continued  on  her  so  long,  that  there  was  no 
remedy  but  death.  "^ 

So  the  queen   entertained  the  lad  graciously.     He  was 

^  This,  let  me  warn  the  reader,  is  not  •'Wardour  Street  English" 
of  my  own  manufacture,  but  the  genuine  article,  and  taken  from  the 
translation  of  Froissart  executed  by  Lord  Berners  for  Henry  VIII. 
The  whole  passage,  in  its  quaint  old  English  form,  modernised  only  as 
to  the  spelling,  is  so  pretty  and  touching,  that  I  cannot  forbear  com- 
pleting the  quotation:  "And  the  good  lady,  when  she  knew  and 
perceived  that  there  was  with  her  no  remedy  but  death,  she  desired 
to  speak  with  the  king  her  husband.  And  when  he  was  before 
her,  she  put  out  of  her  bed  her  right  hand,  and  took  the  king  by  his 
right  hand,  who  was  right  sorrowful  at  his  heart.  Then  she  said, 
'Sir,  we  have  in  peace,  joy,  and  great  prosperity,  used  all  our 
time  together.  Sir,  now  I  pray  you,  at  our  departing,  that  ye 
will  grant  me  three  desires.'  The  king,  right  sorrowfully  weeping, 
said,  '  Madam,  desire  what  ye  will,  I  grant  it.'  '  Sir,'  said  she,  *  I  re- 
quire you,  first  of  all,  that  all  manner  of  people,  such  as  have  dealt 
withal  in  their  merchandise,  on  this  side  the  sea,  or  beyond,  that  it 
may  please  you  to  pay  ever>'thing  that  I  owe  to  them  or  to  any  other. 
And  secondly,  sir,  all  such  ordinances  and  promises  as  I  have  made  to 
the  churches  as  well  of  this  country  as  beyond  the  sea,  whereas  I  have 
had  my  devotion,  that  it  may  please  you  to  accomplish  and  fulfil  the 
same.  Thirdly,  sir,  I  require  you  that  it  may  please  you  to  take  none 
other  sepulture,  whensoever  it  shall  please  God  to  take  you  out  of  this 
transitory  life,  but  beside  me  in  Westminster.'  The  king,  all  weeping, 
said,  *  Madam,  I  grant  all  your  desire.'  Then  the  good  lady  and  queen 
made  on  her  the  sign  of  the  cross,  and  commended  the  king  her  hus- 
band to  God,  and  her  youngest  son,  Thomas,  who  was  there  beside  her. 
And  anon,  after,  she  yielded  up  the  spirit,  the  which  I  believe  surely 
the  holy  angels  received  with  great  joy  up  to  heaven,  for  in  all  her  life 
she  did  neither  in  thought  nor  deed  anything  whereby  to  lose  her  soul, 
as  far  as  any  creature  could  know.  Thus  the  good  Queen  of  England 
died  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1369,  in  the  \'igil  of  our  Lad^',  in  the 
middle  of  August." 

b 


xviii  INTRODUCTION. 

not  yet  the  chronicler,  only  the  poet  and  lover,  and  he 
fluttered  about  the  English  Court,  taking,  as  he  says,  great 
delight  in  the  company  of  "lords  and  ladies,  damsels  and 
women,"  but  thinking  alway,  "by  day  and  night,"  of  his 
own  lady  across  the  sea.  At  last  the  longing  to  return  to 
Valenciennes  grew  unbearable.  He  showed  to  the  queen 
a  "virelay,"  in  which  he  had  exhaled  his  sorrows.  She 
"examined  him  straitly,"  and  guessing  how  enamoured  he 
was,  said :  "  You  shall  go  hence,  and  soon  will  have  fair 
tidings  of  your  lady :  but  I  will,  and  I  ordain,  that  you 
come  back  to  us  once  more."  And  he,  being  on  his  knees, 
answered:  "Madam,  wheresoever  I  may  be  I  shall  always  do 
your  behests."  So  she  sent  him  away,  largely  laden  with 
gifts,  "horses  and  jewels  and  possessions,"  which  "there- 
after," as  he  says,  "  did  him  very  much  profit,"  and  enabled 
him  to  return  to  "his  own  country  in  good  estate  and 
circumstance." 

These  visible  marks  of  success  seem  to  have  impressed 
Belle  et  Bo?uie.  She  was  pleased  to  assure  him  that  she  and 
her  friends  had  often  talked  about  him  during  his  absence, 
and  held  out  vague  hopes  that  his  suit  might,  in  time,  have 
a  successful  issue.  So  he  dangled  about  her  once  more, — 
looking  in,  on  one  occasion,  through  the  window  as  she 
danced,  "resplendent  in  a  fair  bodice,"  with  her  friends  and 
companions,  while  he  stood  without,  afraid  to  go  in; — anon 
repeating  to  her  his  verses; — then,  their  intimacy  growing 
closer,  she  came  with  a  friend  to  his  dwelling,  which  he  had 
bestrewn  with  daisies  and  violets  for  the  occasion; — and 
finally,  at  a  kind  of  picnic,  as  they  sat  under  a  thorn  "about  as 
high  as  a  lance,  and  all  white  with  blossom,"  he  is  emboldened 
by  good  cheer — "  pasties,  hams,  wines,  meats,  and  venison  " 
— to  ask  her,  "in  the  name  of  Love,"  to  "retain  him  as 
her  loyal  servant,  sacred  to  her  thenceforward."     "  Do  you 


INTRODUCTION.  xix 

indeed  wish  it  to  be  so?"  she  asks.  "Ay,"  nnswcrs  the 
swain.     "Then  I  wish  it  too." 

His  happiness  was  of  short  duration.  Male-bouche^  or,  as 
one  may  say,  Evil-tongue,  came  between  them,  and  poisoned 
the  lady's  heart  against  her  lover.  She  tells  him,  "  with  soft 
speech,"  that  their  intimacy  must  cease,  that  he  must  appear 
before  her  no  more.  He  obeys  for  a  whole  season,  pretends 
not  to  see  her  when  they  meet ;  till  one  evening,  al)out  the 
time  of  vespers,  as  he  stood  near  her  house,  she,  by  chance 
came  out,  and  as  she  passed  by  him,  he  said :  "  Come  here 
near  me,  sweet  friend."  "  No  sweet  friend  of  yours,"  answers 
the  lady  angrily,  and — alas  !  for  her  perfect  manners,  at 
least  according  to  modern  standards — as  she  went  back 
into  the  house,  she  caught  hold  of  his  head,  and  plucked 
out  three  of  his  hairs, — or,  maybe  a  few  more. 

Even  thus  Froissart  utters  no  word  of  blame,  and 
finds  excuses  for  Belle  et  Bonne.  Nay,  looking  back  and 
comparing  the  good  and  the  evil  that  Love  and  his  lady 
have  done  him,  he  concludes  that  the  good  far  outweighs 
the  evil, — that  "he  would  have  been  nothing  worth  if  he 
had  not  had  this  guerdon  of  love,  for  it  is  of  great  advantage 
to  a  young  man,  and  an  initiation  to  life  good,  beautiful,  and 
very  profitable,  making  him  courageous  and  capable,  and 
inclining  him  to  turn  from  vice  to  virtue."  And  addressing 
"  his  sovereign  lady,"  he  tells  her  that  though  his  love  has 
brought  sorrow,  yet  he  could  have  loved  none  w^orthier,  and 
that,  whatever  betide,  as  she  was  the  first  in  his  heart,  so 
she  shall  be  the  last,  and  that  he  will  love  none  other 
woman. 

To  what  extent  is  this  "Treatise  of  the  little  Thorn  of 
Love"  a  "  true  story,"  as  the  children  say  ?  Thatvje  shall,  in 
all  probability,  never  know.  There  is,  I  think,  no  fiction,  and 
scarcely  idealisation,  in  the  passages  relating  to  Froissart's 


XX  INTRO  D  UCTlOiW 

childhood  and  youth.  The  dirt-pies,  the  mimic  mills  in  the 
rivulets,  the  fisticuffs,  the  torn  clothes  and  maternal  anger, 
the  half-learned  lessons  and  consequent  canings,  the  interest 
in  horses  and  hawks  and  dogs,  the  love  of  minstrels  and 
mummers,  the  boy-and-girl  flirtations — these,  we  may  be 
pretty  sure,  had  had  a  real  place  in  the  experience  of  the 
poet's  own  life.  But  the  story  of  his  love  for  Belle  et  Bofine 
seems  at  first  sight,  perhaps,  open  to  suspicion.  Were  the 
young  men  of  the  fourteenth  century,  one  is  tempted  to 
doubt,  so  faint  of  heart  in  their  attitude  towards  woman- 
kind ?  Did  the  gift  of  "  fear "  seem  to  them  the  supreme 
gift  which  the  Goddess  of  Love  had  it  in  her  power  to 
bestow  ?  Certainly,  at  other  periods  of  the  world's  history, 
the  relation  of  the  lover  to  the  loved  has  not  always  been 
regarded  in  this  particular  way.  Take  an  eighteenth  century 
illustration,  one  of  a  thousand.  When  Cherubin,  in  Beau- 
marchais'  play  of  the  "  Marriage  of  Figaro,"  leaps  out  of  the 
Countess's  window,  Susannah,  the  pretty  alert  chamber- 
maid, exclaims,  "  There  is  one  who  will  never  want  for 
women  to  love  him."  Cherubin  evidently  was  not  expected 
to  cultivate  the  gift  of  "fear."  He  was  to  lord  it  over 
woman's  heart  by  quite  other  graces  than  those  of  awe 
and  reverence.  And,  if  I  were  inclined  to  be  cynical,  I 
might  here  remark  that  these  graces  served  Froissart  rather 
ill  in  his  suit  with  Bel/e  et  Bomie. 

That,  however,  is  not  the  point  immediately  before  us. 
The  question  is,  whether  there  really  was  a  Be/k  et  Bo?vh\ 
and  whether  Froissart  loved  her,  and  whether  she  requited 
his  love  in  such  fashion  as  he  describes.  For  myself,  \ 
though,  as  already  stated,  absolute  proof  is  not  forthcoming,  I 
I  iiave  little  doubt  that  this  question  should  be  answered  in 
the  affirmative,  Froissart,  it  must  be  remembered,  was 
steeped  in  the  highest  chivalrous  feeling  of  the  fourteenth 


INTRODUCTION,  xxi 

century.  To  sit  lowly  and  discrowned  before  his  love,  like 
King  Cophetua  in  Sir  E.  Burne-Jones'  picture,  would  be  the 
position  he  would  naturally  adopt.  The  story  of  Belle  et 
Bojuie  I  take  to  be  true  in  its  main  features.  And  now, 
as  mine  host  of  the  Tabard  said,  "  we  will  talk  no  more  of 
this  matter." 

Froissart  seems  to  have  remained  at  Valenciennes  for 
some  little  time  after  his  return  from  England,  and  then  to 
have  travelled  southward — one  knows  not  on  what  errand — • 
to  Avignon,  where  the  Pope  then  held  his  seat,  and  to 
Narbonne,  and  thence,  northward  again,  to  Paris.  But 
this  is  all  conjecture.  In  1361  he  was  back  in  London, 
and  again  most  graciously  received  by  the  queen. 
Young  as  he  was,  his  real  vocation  had  already  for 
some  time  declared  itself.  "I  have  always,"  he  says  in 
his  chronicle,  "inquired  to  the  utmost  of  my  power 
into  the  true  history  of  wars,  and  of  the  adventures 
resulting  therefrom;  and  especially  since  the  great  battle  of 
Poitiers  (1356),  in  which  the  noble  King  John  of  France 
was  taken  prisoner,  for  before  that  time  I  was  still  very 
young  in  reason  and  in  years.  And  notwithstanding  that,  I 
undertook,  rather  rashly,  I  but  just  released  from  school, 
to  rhyme  and  endite  the  wars  above  mentioned,  and  to  take 
the  book,  all  completed,  to  England — which  also  I  did. 
And  I  presented  the  book  to  the  very  great  and  noble 
lady.  Madam  Philippa  of  Hainault,  queen  of  England,  who 
received  it  from  me  graciously  and  gently,  and  gave  me 
thereof  great  profit." 

What  was  the  book  which  Froissart  thus  presented  to  the 
queen  ?  The  learned  M.  Kervyn  de  Littenhove  holds  that 
it  bore  no  relation  to  any  part  of  the  Chronicles  as  we  now 
possess  them,  but  was  a  rhymed  history,  which  has  been 
lost.     The   very  learned   M.    Simeon    Luce,   following    M. 


xxii  INTRODUCTION. 

Paulin  Paris,  maintains,  on  the  other  hand,  that  this  is 
a  mistake— tliat  Froissart's  words,  as  given  in  most  MSS., 
do  not  imply  rhyme,  and  that  the  work  was  in  prose,  and 
most  probably  an  early  draft  of  part  of  the  Chronicles.  Who 
shall  decide  ?  Prose  or  verse,  the  queen,  as  already  stated, 
received  the  book  gladly.  She  appointed  Froissart  to  be  her 
clerk,  or  secretary,  and  treated  him,  as  did  also  the  king,  with 
marked  favour.  Writing  long  afterwards  he  says:  "Such 
grace  did  God  give  me  that  I  have  been  well  entreated  of 
all,  and  in  the  households  of  kings,  and  especially  in  the 
household  of  the  king  of  England  and  of  the  queen,  his  wife, 
Madam  Philippa  of  Hainault,  queen  of  England,  Lady 
of  Ireland,  and  Aquitaine,  to  whom,  in  my  youth,  I  acted 
as  clerk,  serving  her  with  fair  ditties  and  amorous  treatises ; 
— and  for  the  love  of  the  noble  and  brave  lady  whom  I 
served,  all  other  great  lords,  kings,  dukes,  counts,  barons 
and  knights,  to  whatever  nation  they  might  belong,  had 
affection  for  me,  and  saw  me  gladly,  and  gave  me  great 
profit.  Thus  on  behalf  of  the  good  lady,  and  at  her 
charges,  and  at  the  charges  of  great  lords,  I  went  over  the 
greater  part  of  Christendom.  .  .  ." 

A  happy  man  was  Jean  Froissart.  God  had  bestowed  on 
him  a  noble  gift,  and  placed  him  in  such  circumstances 
that  that  gift  had  its  freest,  fullest,  most  joyous  exercise. 
He  was  a  born  chronicler,  taking  delight  in  the  world's 
pageant  as  it  passed  before  his  eyes,  and  having  at  conmiand 
a  ready  and  most  graphic  pen.  And  here  he  was  set  from 
the  beginning  among  the  makers  of  history.  The  men 
who  had  fought  at  Crecy  and  Poitiers  were  about  him. 
He  could  interrogate  here,  interrogate  there,  satisfy  to  the 
full  his  almost  insatiable  curiosity.  He  speaks  familiarly  of 
having  been  an  inmate  of  the  Black  Prince's  palace  at  Berk- 
he  mstead.     He   was  evidently  liked  and  trusted  wherever 


INTRODUCTION.  xxiii 

he  went.  To  the  queen  probably  is  due  the  credit  of 
having  discovered  the  value  of  such  a  historiographer.  She 
it  was,  no  doubt,  who  sent  him  northward  on  the  expedition 
when  he  "rode  all  through  the  kingdom  of  Scotland,  and 
was  full  a  fortnight  in  the  palace  of  the  Earl  William 
Douglas,  father  of  Earl  James  ...  at  a  castle  five  leagues 
from  Edinburgh,  and  called  in  that  country  Dalkeith." 
She  would  arrange  that  he  should  see  all  that  was  to  be 
seen,  hear  all  that  was  to  be  heard.  He  appears  to  have 
been  in  London  in  1364  when  King  John  of  France  came 
back  into  captivity.  He  was  certainly  at  Bordeaux  on  a 
certain  Wednesday,  two  years  later,  when  the  ill-starred 
Richard  H.  was  born,  and  "  Richard  of  Pont-Chardon, 
Marshal  of  Aquitaine  for  the  nonce,"  came  to  him  and 
said,  "  Froissart,  write  and  keep  in  memory  that  the  lady 
Princess  has  been  brought  to  bed  of  a  fair  son,  who  came 
into  the  world  on  Twelfth  Night"  He  would  also  have 
accompanied  the  Black  Prince  into  Spain  in  1367,  but  that 
the  latter  sent  him  back  to  England  to  the  queen. 

Five  years,  according  to  his  own  statement,  did  Froissart 
serve  Edward  HI.  and  Philippa;  and  then  his  biography 
becomes  more  scrappy  than  ever.  After  the  queen's  death 
he  found  his  way  back  to  Valenciennes,  and  seems  to  have 
settled  down  there  for  a  space,  somewhat  prosaically,  and  in 
circumstances  far  from  affluent.  But  his  was  not  a  light  to 
be  hid  under  a  bushel.  Patrons  took  him  up,  admitted 
him  freely  to  their  courts,  supplied  him  with  the  means 
of  pursuing  his  loved  inquiries.  Ecclesiastical  benefices 
afforded  daily  bread, — and  a  cup  or  so  of  wine  to  boot 
All  this  might,  no  doubt,  be  profitably  set  forth  in  such 
detail  as  is  now  possible ;  but  the  story  of  Froissart's  life 
throughout  is  one  in  which  inference  and  conjecture  hold  a 
greater  place  than  exact  dates  and  hard  facts,  and  I  must 


xxiv  INTRODUCTION. 

hurry  forward  to  his  visit  to  the  Count  de  Foix  in  1388. 
"  At  that  time,"  he  says,  "  I,  Master  Jean  Froissart, 
who  have  been  at  pains  to  endite  and  write  this 
history  at  the  request  and  direction  of  the  high  and  re- 
nowned prince  Guy  of  Chastillon,  Count  of  Blois,  lord 
of  Avcsnes,  of  Beaumont,  of  Schoonhove  and  of  Code, 
my  good  and  sovereign  master  and  lord,  considered 
with  myself  that  there  was  no  hope  that  any  feats  of 
arms  would  be  performed  in  Picardy  or  Flanders,  seeing 
that  peace  reigned  in  those  parts;  and  I  did  not  wish  to  be 
idle,  for  well  I  knew  that  in  the  times  yet  to  come,  and 
when  I  had  passed  away,  this  high  and  noble  history  of  mine 
would  have  free  course,  and  that  all  noble  and  valiant  men 
would  find  great  pleasure  therein,  and  an  example  to  do 
well.  And  inasmuch  as  I  possessed,  for  which  God  be 
thanked,  good  knowledge  and  memory  of  things  past,  a 
mind  clear  and  acute  to  understand  all  the  facts  pertaining 
to  any  subject  that  might  be  presented  to  me,  and  was  of 
an  age,  and  wdth  body  and  members,  to  bear  fatigue,  I 
decided  that  I  would  not  in  any  wise  stop  from  pursuing 
my  work.  And  so  that  I  might  know  the  truth  of  what  had 
happened  in  distant  parts  without  sending  some  one  else 
instead  of  myself,  I  took  a  reasonable  determination  to  go 
to  the  high  prince  and  redoubted  lord,  Gaston,  Count  of 
Foix  and  Beam.  And  well  I  knew  that  if  I  could  come  to 
be  of  his  household,  and  be  there  at  my  leisure,  I  could  not 
choose  any  better  place  in  the  world  where  to  gather  infor- 
mation and  all  news,  for  thither  do  resort  all  foreign  knights 
and  squires  on  account  of  the  nobleness  of  that  high 
prince." 

So  Froissart  set  out,  then,  as  ever,  a  kind  of  knight- 
errant  in  search  of  knowledge.  He  took  with  him  letters 
of  recommendation  from  Guy  of  Chastillon  to  the  Count  of 


INTRODUCTION,  xxv 

Foix,  and,  the  better  to  ingratiate  himself  with  that  worthy, 
a  present  of  four  greyhounds,  named  respectively,  Tristan, 
Hector,  Brown,  and  Roland.  As  he  rode  on  his  way  he  fell 
in  with  a  certain  knight  of  Gaston's  household — a  "  brave 
and  wise  man,  and  fine  knight,  Espaing  de  Lyon  by  name, 
who  might  then  be  fifty  years  old."  Six  days  they 
journeyed  together,  each  rejoicing  in  the  other's  company, 
and  talking  incessantly  after  Sir  Espaing  had  piously  com- 
pleted his  orisons  every  morning.  "  Much  did  the  stories 
of  Espaing  de  Lyon  tend  to  my  pleasure  and  recreation," 
says  Froissart,  "  and  through  them  the  way  seemed  to  me  all 
too  short."  And  again  he  says:  "With  the  words  of  Sir 
Espaing  de  Lyon  was  I  greatly  rejoiced,  and  much  pleasure 
did  they  give  me,  and  I  bore  them  well  in  mind;  and  so 
soon  as  I  had  dismounted  at  any  resting  place  on  our  way, 
were  it  night  or  morning,  I  wrote  them  down,  so  as  to  have 
better  memory  of  them  in  the  time  to  come,  for  there  is  no 
such  good  means  of  retaining  knowledge  as  writing." 

The  Count  de  Foix  was  the  "  lord  in  the  whole  world 
who  most  willingly  received  strangers,  so  that  he  might  hear 
news,"  and  he  received  and  entertained  Froissart  nobly. 
The  latter  had  brought  with  him  a  book,  mainly  of  his 
own  composition,  entitled  Meliador}  and  out  of  this 
book  he  read  to  the  Count  every  night  after  supper — 
when  no  one  was  allowed  to  speak  a  word,  for,  says 
Froissart,  the  Count  "  wished  that  I  should  be  heard  per- 
fectly, and  he  himself  took  great  pleasure  in  hearing  me 
well"  What  author  but  would  have  been  flattered  by  such 
treatment  ?  "  Before  I  came  to  his  court,"  says  Froissart, 
"  I  had  visited  many  courts  of  kings,  dukes,  princes,  counts, 
and  high  ladies,  but  never  had  I  been  to  any  that  pleased 

^  This  interminable  rhymed  romance  has  lately  been  discovered,  and 
is,  it  appears,  to  be  shortly  published. 


xxvi  INTRODUCTION. 

me  better,  nor  that  was  more  joyous  in  all  matters  pertain 
ing  to  arms,  than  that  of  the  Count  of  Foix.  One  saw,  in 
the  hall  and  chambers  of  the  court,  knights  and  squires  of 
honour  going  and  coming,  and  heard  them  talk  of  arms 
and  of  love.  All  honour  was  there  to  be  found.  News 
was  there  to  be  heard  of  all  kingdoms  and  countries  what- 
soever, for,  because  of  the  lord's  worth  and  valour,  all  news 
came  thither  like  rain.  There  was  I  informed  of  the  greater 
part  of  the  feats  of  arms  performed  in  Spain,  in  Portugal, 
in  Arragon,  in  Navarre,  in  England,  in  Scotland,  and  on 
the  frontiers  of  Languedoc;  for  there  I  met,  coming  to  the 
Count,  during  the  time  that  I  remained,  knights  and  squires 
of  all  nations.  So  I  got  from  them  what  information  I 
could,  either  directly,  or  through  the  Count,  who  willingly 
spoke  to  me  of  that  they  had  told  him." 

Even  so,  however,  Froissart  was  not  satisfied.  Important 
as  were  the  testimonies  collected  while  at  the  Count's  court, 
he  felt  that  they  stood  in  need  of  check  and  confirmation. 
"  Never,"  he  says  later  on  in  his  history,  "  have  I  pursued  a 
course  of  enquiry  in  any  country  without  afterwards  taking 
means  to  ascertain  whether  the  results  were  true  and  note- 
worthy. Thus  because  while  I  was  with  the  gentle  Count 
Gaston  of  Foix,  1  was  informed  of  many  things  that  had 
happened  in  Castille  and  Arragon,  so  after  I  had  returned 
to  my  own  country,  in  the  County  of  Hainault  and  town  of 
Valenciennes,  and  had  rested  for  a  while,  and  it  became  my 
pleasure  to  continue  the  history  I  had  begun — I  then  felt 
that  I  could  not  do  so  with  justice  after  hearing  only 
the  statements  of  those  who  held  for  the  King  of  Castille, 
and  that  it  behoved  me,  if  I  wished  to  be  impartial,  to  listen 
to  the  Portuguese,  as  I  had  listened  to  the  Gascons  and 
Spaniards  at  the  palace  of  Foix  and  on  my  way  thither  and 
thence.     So  I  gave  no  thought  to  the  trouble,  or  weariness 


INTRODUCTION.  xxvli 

of  my  body,  but  came  to  Bruges  in  Flanders,  to  find  the 
Portuguese  and  people  of  Lisbon,  for  there  are  always  many 
at  that  place."  Nor  did  his  journey  end  here,  for  hearing 
that  there  was  a  knight  of  Portugal,  specially  valiant  and 
wise,  and  a  member  of  the  King  of  Portugal's  council,  who 
had  just  left  for  Zealand  on  the  way  to  Prussia — where,  it 
will  be  remembered,  the  heathen  or  quasi-heathen  were 
still  to  be  fought — Froissart  followed;  and  as  he  found  the 
said  knight  to  be  "gracious,  wise  and  honourable,  courteous 
and  friendly,"  he  remained  with  him  six  days,  obtaining 
much  valuable  information  as  to  what  had  "  happened  in 
Portugal  and  Castille  up  to  the  year  of  grace,  1390." 

In  some  respects  Froissart's  journey  to  the  court  of  the 
Count  of  Foix  is  less  interesting,  to  the  English  reader  at 
least,  than  his  journey  a  little  later  (in  1394)  to  the  court  of 
Richard  II.  But  I  have  dwelt  upon  the  former  expedition, 
because  all  that  Froissart  says  about  it  illustrates  so  well 
what  was  his  conception  of  his  duties  as  a  historian,  and  in 
what  manner  his  Chronicles  were  composed; — and  these  are 
points  which  it  may  be  profitable  to  consider  for  a  moment. 

Froissart  then  was  no  Dryasdust.  The  patient  investiga- 
tion of  old  archives,  the  laborious  piecing  together  of  facts 
and  dates,  the  weighing  of  written  evidence, — all  this  was 
not  his  trade.  He  wrote  neither  from  books  nor  records, 
but  from  the  oral  testimony  of  men.  Men  were  his  archives, 
and  supplied  the  materials  for  his  history.  When  he  wished 
to  know  what  had  occurred  at  any  particular  time  or  place, 
he  did  not  betake  himself,  as  a  modern  historian  would 
mainly  have  to  do,  even  if  dealing  with  contemporary 
events,  to  a  library. ^     He  went  out  into  the  world,  tried  to 

^  Perhaps  Kinglake,  in  his  composition  of  the  history  of  the 
Crimean  War,  is  the  modern  historian  who  has  most  often  followed 
Froissart's  methods 


xxviii  INTRODUCTION, 

obtain  access  to  the  actors  in  life's  great  drama — travelled 
hither  and  thither  for  the  purpose— spared  neither  time 
nor  the  money  of  his  patrons  in  his  investigations — 
questioned  freely  all  he  met; — and,  being  everywhere 
honourably  received  in  palace  and  castle,  in  abbey  refectory 
and  guardroom,  ifiterviewed  in  a  manner  as  successful  as  it 
was  courtly.  Yes,  in/ervieiued,  though  the  word  may  seem 
so  modern  as  to  raise  a  smile  when  applied  to  a  writer  who 
lived  five  hundred  years  ago.  Froissart  was  a  prototype, 
the  prototype  of  the  "special  correspondent"  and  "war 
correspondent "  of  to-day.  As  our  own  newspapers  send 
out  skilled  journalists  to  gather  and  record  the  world's  news, 
so  did  Froissart's  patrons,  all  duly  enumerated  in  his  /oli 
Bidsso7i  de  JonecCy  or  "  Pretty  Boscage  of  Youth,"  employ 
him  to  chronicle  deeds  worthy  of  memory.  Substantially, 
though  the  one  wrote  a  long  book,  and  the  other  writes 
newspaper  articles,  the  chronicler  executed  much  the  same 
office,  and  by  much  the  same  methods,  as  the  modern 
newspaper  correspondent, — the  main  difference  being  that 
Froissart,  the  pioneer,  was  a  man  of  genius,  and  that 
genius  is  a  very  rare  plant. 

And  Froissart's  history  has  the  defects  inherent  in  his 
modes  of  investigation.  Human  memory  is  at  once  very 
fallible  and  very  biassed.  We  forget  much,  and  what  we 
do  remember  is  often  mis-remembered,  and  coloured  by  our 
prepossessions  and  prejudices; — while  in  the  retrospect  of 
each  of  us,  dates  and  the  sequence  of  events  are  sometimes 
strangely  jumbled.  There  is  no  reason  at  all  to  suppose 
that  Froissart's  informants  had  any  desire  to  deceive  him. 
They  were  nearly  always,  no  doubt,  witnesses  of  truth,  so 
far  as  intention  went.  But  sometimes  they  thought  they 
knew  what  they  did  not  know ;  and  sometimes  they  un- 
consciously exaggerated  the  prowess  of  their   friends,  and 


JNTRODUCTION,  xxix 

the  pusillanimity  of  their  enemies,  and  sometimes  their 
dates  stood  in  need  of  correction.  Froissart  was  far  from 
being  a  credulous  person.  He  is  not  at  all  to  be  regarded 
as  a  quidnunc,  a  gobonouchcs,  an  open-mouthed  swallower 
of  random  flies.  But  he  naturally  believed  and  recorded 
what  he  was  told  and  seemed  credible — what  often  he  had 
no  means  of  checking — what  often,  though  right  enough 
generally,  was  not  right  in  particulars.  And  so  his  own 
character  for  exactitude  has  suffered.  Thus,  for  instance, 
Mr.  Green,  in  the  Short  History  of  the  English  People^  while 
doing  justice  to  his  "vivacity  and  picturesqueness,"  says 
that  these  "blind  us  to  the  inaccuracy  of  his  details," 
adding,  "as  an  historical  authority  he  is  of  little  value." 

This  is,  I  venture  to  think,  at  once  true,  and  yet,  in  a 
sense,  false.  Froissart,  and  for  the  reasons  which  I  have 
just  endeavoured  to  explain,  is  not  an  historical  authority 
of  any  high  value  as  regards  dates,  or  specific  facts,  or  even 
the  motives  of  action.  His  statements  have  no  greater 
authority  than  that  of  the  evidence  on  which  they  were 
based,  and  stand  in  need  of  control,  like  all  evidence  of 
the  same  kind.  But  even  thus  it  is  surely  an  exaggeration 
to  say  that  he  has  little  value  as  an  historical  authority.  As 
regards  by  far  the  greater  part  of  the  events  which  he 
narrates,  he  was  a  contemporary,  and  based  his  narrative 
on  the  testimony  of  contemporaries  who  had  often  been 
actors  and  spectators.  This,  in  itself,  is  an  inestimable 
advantage,  especially  as  he  possessed  an  excellent  gift  of 
what  may,  for  want  of  a  better  word,  be  called  realisatio?i. 
We  seem,  as  we  read  through  his  pages,  to  be  listening  to 
the  men  who  had  fought  at  Crecy  and  Poitiers,  to  hear 
those  popular  leaders,  the  Artevelds,  swaying,  by  gift  of 
speech,  the  turbulent  populace  of  the  great  burgher  towns 
of  Flanders; — we  see,  we   feel,   the   hopeless    misery,   the 


XXX  INTRODUCTION, 

terrible  social  disorganisation  that  had  fallen  on  France 
as  the  result  of  the  English  war — the  country  harried  by 
bands  of  freebooters,  commerce  paralysed,  the  fields  untilled 
— everywhere  rapine  and  starvation.  All  the  history  of 
the  time — in  England,  Scotland,  France,  the  Netherlands, 
Spain,  Portugal,  Italy,  to  say  nothing  of  expeditions  cast- 
ward  and  to  Africa — all  seems  to  pass  before  our  eyes, 
and,  for  the  most  part,  neither  confused  nor  jumbled,  but 
ordered  with  a  most  admirable  skill.  It's  a  panorama,  if 
you  like,  but  a  panorama  executed  by  a  great  artist,  and 
an  artist  who,  I  repeat,  saw  through  contemporary  eyes. 

Froissart  says  of  himself,  modestly,  after  stating  a 
point  in  dispute  between  the  French  and  English,  "as 
for  me,  I  have  no  such  knowledge  of  great  matters  (of 
state),  as  I  have  of  the  use  and  exercise  of  arms."  And 
this  is,  no  doubt,  true.  He  was  in  some  sense,  so 
far  as  great  political  affairs  were  concerned,  an  outsider. 
He  had  not,  like  his  predecessors  in  the  chronicler's  art, 
Villehardouin  and  Joinville,  himself  taken  part  in  the 
actions  which  he  narrated.  Nor  had  he,  like  his  successor 
Commines,  been  initiated  to  the  inner  secrets  of  politics. 
He  was  the  curious,  interested,  inteUigent  spectator  of  the 
life  of  his  time,  seeing  perhaps  mainly  its  outward  pageantry, 
but  seeing  that  with  an  excellent  clearness.  Granting,  to 
use  M.  Zola's  phrase,  that  Chaucer's  immortal  prologue  is 
our  best  "  human  document "  with  regard  to  the  fourteenth 
century,  yet  Froissart's  Chronicle  does  not  come  far  behind; 
and,  if  this  be  true,  assuredly  it  cannot  be  said  that  tlie 
Chronicle  has  little  historical  value. 

No  doubt  in  accepting  Froissart's  picture  of  his  times, 
due  allowance  must  be  made  for  his  own  point  of  view  and 
character.  But  then  as  much  might  be  said  of  the  work 
of  almost  every  artist  in  words  or  paint.     Chaucer  and  I^ang- 


INTR  OD  UCTION.  xxxi 

land  looked  out  upon  the  same  age,  but  they  saw  it  very 
diflferently.  Taine,  in  his  History  of  English  Literature^ 
denies  that  Scott  could  write  advantageously  about  the 
Middle  Ages,  on  the  curious  ground  that  Scott,  being,  as 
he  was,  a  very  good  man,  and  an  honourable  gentleman, 
could  have  no  insight  into  times  so  lustful,  violent,  and 
bloody.  If  virtue  be  thus  a  disqualification,  Froissart  also 
stands  condemned.  He  too  was  a  man  of  worth  and 
uprightness;  and,  because  he  was  himself  pure  and  straight- 
forward, he  refused,  except  on  the  most  irrefragable  testi- 
mony, to  impute  evil  and  baseness  to  others.  No  better 
evidence  can  be  given  of  his  temper,  in  this  respect,  than 
his  treatment  of  the  story  of  the  love  of  Edward  III.  for  the 
Countess  of  Salisbury.  That  episode  in  the  Chronicles  is 
borrowed,  with  all  due  general  acknowledgment,  from  the 
earlier  Chronicle  of  Jehan  le  Bel,  canon  of  Liege,  who  was 
not  only  a  sumptuous  ecclesiastic,  but  an  admirable  writer, 
and,  in  effect,  the  author  of  some  of  the  most  notable 
passages  in  the  first  part  of  Froissart's  history.  But  Jehan 
le  Bel  had  not  his  successor's  reticence.  In  his  narrative, 
the  story  of  Edward  III.  and  the  Countess  has  a  hideous 
conclusion,  that  exhibits  the  monarch  in  an  odious  light. 
He  had  apparently  accepted,  without  question,  the  scandal 
of  the  time.  Froissart,  as  unhesitatingly  rejects  it.  All 
this  part  of  the  story  is  simply  ignored,  dropped,  in  the 
later  versions  of  the  Chronicle.  But  an  intermediate 
version,  known  as  the  MS.  of  Amiens,  enables  us  to 
understand  on  what  grounds  he  had  come  to  the  con- 
clusion— a  just  one  as  now  appears — that  the  king  had 
not  been  guilty  of  the  vile  conduct  attributed  to  him. 
"You  have  heard  tell,"  he  says,  "how  the  King  of  England 
was  enamoured  of  the  Countess  of  Salisbury;  nevertheless 
the  Chronicles  of  My  lord  Jehan  le  Bel  speak  of  this  love 


xxxii  INTRODUCTION. 

farther,  and  less  conveniently,  than  I  must  do,  for,  please 
God,  I  have  no  thought  to  attach  any  ugly  reproach  to  the 
King  of  England,  nor  to  the  Countess  of  Salisbury.  And 
to  continue  the  story,  and  disclose  the  whole  truth  of  the 
matter,  so  that  all  good  people  may  have  their  minds  at 
rest  with  respect  thereto,  and  may  know  why  I  now  speak 
of  that  love,  be  it  known  that  Messire  Jehan  le  Bel  main- 
tains in  his  Chronicles  that  the  English  king  entreated  the 
said  lady  evilly,  and  had  his  will  of  her  by  force; — but  as 
to  this  I  may  say,  so  God  help  me,  that  I  have  been  much 
in  England,  and  conversed  with  many  people,  and  principally 
in  the  dwelling  of  the  king  and  of  the  great  lords  of  that 
country,  but  never  did  I  hear  word  of  this  evil  case.  And 
I  enquired  about  it  of  many  people  who  must  have  known 
had  there  been  anything  to  know.  Also  I  cannot  believe, 
nor  is  it  in  anywise  believable,  that  so  high  and  valiant 
a  man  as  the  King  of  England  is  and  has  been,  should 
abase  himself  to  soil  with  dishonour  a  noble  lady  of  his, 
and  a  knight  who  all  his  life  had  served  him  so  loyally. 
Therefore  now  and  from  henceforward  I  shall  speak  of 
this  love  no  more." 

Froissart's  temper,  as  exhibited  in  such  passages  as 
this,  has  been  called  courtly.  To  my  thinking,  it  should 
rather  be  called  human.  He  refused  lightly  to  think 
evil  of  his  fellow-men,  and  saw  them,  sometimes,  it  may  be, 
— though  not  in  this  particular  case — somewhat  better  than 
they  were.  This  has,  no  doubt,  to  be  kept  in  view  when 
reading  his  Chronicle. 

Was  he,  as  some  have  held,  indifferent  to  the  sufferings 
of  the  commonalty,  and  only  in  sympathy  with  the  men  and 
women  of  high  degree?  Scott  seems  to  think  so; — or,  to 
speak  more  accurately,  fathers  that  opinion  on  Claverhouse, 
who,  in  the  colloquy  from  which  I  have  already  quoted,  is 


INTROD-UCTION,  xxxiii 

made  to  say  to  Morton  :  "  The  noble  canon,  with  what  true 
chivalrous  feeling  he  confines  his  beautiful  expressions  of 
sorrow  to  the  death  of  the  gallant  and  high-bred  knight,  of 
whom  it  was  a  pity  to  see  the  fall,  such  was  his  loyalty  to 
his  king,  pure  faith  to  his  religion,  hardihood  towards  his 
enemy,  and  fidelity  to  his  lady-love  !  Ah  benedicite  !  how 
he  will  mourn  over  the  fall  of  such  a  pearl  of  knighthood, 
be  it  on  the  side  he  happens  to  favour,  or  on  the  other. 
But  truly  for  sweeping  from  the  face  of  the  earth  some  few 
hundreds  of  villain  churls,  who  are  born  but  to  plough  it, 
the  high-born  and  inquisitive  historian  has  marvellous 
little  sympathy — as  little,  or  less,  perhaps,  than  John 
Grahame  of  Claverhouse."  So  speaks  the  Claverhouse  of 
Scott's  creation ;  and  I  gather  from  the  passage  on  chivalry 
in  Mr.  Green's  history,  that  he,  though  looking  at  the 
matter,  as  may  be  supposed,  from  a  very  different  point  of 
view,  shares  the  same  opinion — for  after  mentioning  the 
name  of  Froissart,  he  speaks  of  "  caste-spirit  and  a  brutal 
indifTerence  to  human  suffering." 

Both  Claverhouse's  praise  and  Mr.  Green's  implied  dis- 
praise, are,  I  venture  to  think,  in  a  great  measure  undeserved. 
Froissart  did  not  write  in  this  somewhat  sentimental,  some- 
what hysterical  last  decade  of  the  nineteenth  century,  and  it 
were  absurd  to  expect  that  he  would  freely  drop  the  modern 
tear  of  sensibility  over  the  sufferings  entailed  by  war.  But 
relatively — relatively  that  is  to  other  military  historians  from 
Caesar  to  M.  Thiers,  let  us  say, — I  do  not  think  that  it  can 
be  justly  urged  against  him  that  the  spectacle  of  human 
misery  leaves  him  indifferent.  There  are  moments,  and 
quite  sufTficiently  numerous,  when  "  the  pity  of  it  "  strikes 
him — moments  when  he  laments,  not  only  as  Claverhouse 
says  he  does,  over  some  chief  of  renown,  Chandos,  or 
Duguesclin,  or  the  Black  Prince,  but  over  the  ravaged  fields, 


xxxiv  INTRODUCTION. 

the  towns  pillaged  and  burnt, — the  ruined  peasantry  and 
the  slaughtered  citizens.  Here,  for  instance,  is  his  account 
of  the  taking  of  Limoges  by  the  Black  Prince  :  "  Those 
who  were  on  foot  were  thus  enabled  to  enter  at  their  ease, 
and  they  did  so ;  and  they  ran  to  the  gate,  and  threw  it 
down,  and  the  barriers  also,  for  there  was  no  defence.  And 
all  this  was  done  so  suddenly  that  those  in  the  town  knew 
not  what  had  befallen.  Then  came  the  Prince,  the  Duke 
of  Lancaster,  the  Earl  of  Cambridge,  the  Earl  of  Pembroke, 
Sir  Guiscard  d'Angle,  and  all  the  others,  with  their  followers, 
who  entered  in,  with  pillagers  on  foot  who  were  fully  pre- 
pared to  do  evil,  and  overrun  the  town,  and  kill  men, 
women,,  and  children ;  and  thus  they  had  been  ordered  to 
do.  Then  was  there  a  scene  of  great  pity,  for  men  and 
women  and  children  threw  themselves  on  their  knees  before 
the  prince,  and  cried,  '  Mercy,  gentle  lord ! '  But  he  was 
so  incensed  that  he  would  not  hear ;  nor  was  man  nor 
woman  listened  to,  but  all  were  put  to  the  sword,  whereso- 
ever found,  and  though  they  were  in  nowise  guilty.  Nor 
do  I  know  how  they  had  no  pity  for  the  poor  folk,  who 
were  not  in  any  case  to  have  committed  treason  ;  but  these 
suffered  more  than  the  greater  people  who  had  been  guilty. 
There  is  no  heart,  however  hard,  that  having  memory  of  God, 
and  being  in  Limoges  that  day,  would  not  have  been  filled 
with  tender  pity  over  the  great  sorrow  that  there  befell,  for 
more  than  three  thousand  persons,  men,  women,  and  children 
were  delivered  up  and  beheaded.  May  God  have  their 
souls,  for  they  were  in  truth  martyrs."  This  is  certainly 
not  the  language  of  courtly  indifference. 

It  is  no  easier  to  construct  a  consecutive  narration  of  the 
end  of  PVoissart's  career  than  of  the  beginning.  It  was  in 
1388  that  he  visited  the  Count  de  Foix;  and  we  have  inci- 
dental notes  in  his  Chronicles  of  other  later  journeyings. 


INTRODUCTION.  xxxv 

In  1394,  at  which  time  he  held  the  office  of  Treasurer  and 
Canon  of  Chimay,^  in  Hainault,  he  came  to  Eni^land, — still 
pursuing  his  historical  inquiries — and  was  introduced  to 
Richard  II.  Richard,  "who  spoke  and  read  French  very 
well,"  received  him  graciously,  and  was  pleased  to  accept  a 
sumptuous  volume,  richly  illustrated,  and  "covered  with 
red  velvet,  studded  with  ten  nails  of  silver  gilt  with  gold, 
and  golden  roses  in  the  midst,"  which  Froissart  had  had 
prepared  for  presentation.  Froissart  lived  in  the  king's 
household  for  some  three  months  at  Eltham,  at  Leeds 
(in  Kent),  at  Sheen,  at  Chertsey,  and  at  Windsor — observ- 
ing that  no  English  king  had  ever  spent  money  so  freely; 
and,  on  taking  leave,  received  "  a  goblet  of  silver,  gilt  with 
gold,  and  weighing  fully  two  marks,  with  a  hundred  nobles 
therein."  Thenceforward  all  is  again  pretty  well  darkness  in 
the  chronicler's  career.  It  is  matter  of  tradition  that  he 
ended  his  long  life  at  Chimay,  in  14 10,  and  that  he  was 
buried  in  the  chapel  of  St.  Anne,  in  the  church  of  that 
town.  But  no  certain  trace  remains  of  the  exact  spot  where 
he  sleeps  his  last  long  sleep. 

Facile,  fluent,  copious — copious  to  prolixity  and  weari- 
ness— such  is  Froissart  as  a  poet.  Nor,  perhaps,  as  a 
prose-writer  can  he  properly  be  called  succinct.  He  wrote 
at  a  time,  and  for  a  restricted  public,  which  had  abundant 
leisure  and  very  few  books,  and  his  patrons,  with  inter- 
minable winter  evenings  to  beguile,  would  scarcely  have 
thanked  him  for  condensing  any  portion  of  his  narratives. 
But  if  his  Chronicle  be  long — if  it  delights  in  detail  and 

^  The  dale  on  which  he  became  a  priest  is  uncertain;  nor  does  his 
clerical  character  obtrude  itself  in  his  book.  He  was,  I  take  it,  a 
religious  man,  but  not  in  any  way  a  bigot,  or  an  enthusiast,  or  super- 
stitious. 


xxxvi  INTR  OD  UCTION. 

circumstance  and  episode, — it  is  never  for  a  moment  dull. 
It  lives,  lives  now  as  it  lived  five  hundred  years  ago.  The 
very  life-blood  of  its  age,  if  one  may  so  speak,  still  pulsates 
through  its  pages.  Against  such  vitality  Time  is  power- 
less. Froissart's  book,  which  has  had  so  many  yesterdays, 
is  a  book  of  to-day,  and  will  be  a  book  of  to-morrow. 

FRANK  T.  MARZIALS. 


There  are,  so  far  as  I  know,  two  translations  into  English 
of  Froissart's  Chronicles.  The  first  was  executed,  at  the 
suggestion  of  Henry  VIIL,  by  John  Eourchier,  Baron 
Berners,  Deputy  of  Calais,  and  published  in  1523-25.  The 
second,  published  in  1803-5,  was  executed  by  Thomas 
Johnes  of  Hafod,  a  wealthy,  benevolent,  and  erudite  M.P. 
and  landowner  who  flourished  a  century  ago. 

Of  these  two  translations  the  first  has  a  very  delightful 
antique  flavour  and  raciness, — it  seems,  not  only  in  actual 
time,  but  in  language  and  spirit,  to  be  nearer  to  Froissart's 
own  work.  Nevertheless,  in  the  following  extracts — extracts 
which  are  always  given  whole  and  not  abridged — I  have 
adopted  Johnes'  version,  and  that  simply  because  his 
version  is  in  quite  modern  English,  and  the  present  volume 
is  intended  for  the  reader  of  to-day. 

Into  any  questions  connected  with  the  text  of  Froissart, 
this  is  scarcely  the  place  to  enter.  Suflice  it  to  say  that 
these  questions  offer  peculiar  difiiculty,  inasmuch  as  there  is 
no  version  of  his  book,  no  MS.,  that  can  be  regarded  as 
definite  and  final.  Writing,  of  course,  before  the  invention 
of  printing,   working   at    different  times  and   for   different 


INTRODUCTION,  xxxvii 

patrons,  Froissart  would  deliver  a  MS.  much  as  a  present 
publisher  would  issue  an  edition,  and  the  MSS.  delivered  at 
various  epochs  would  differ  as  editions  differ.  He  did  not 
write  his  book  once  and  for  all,  but  subjected  it  to  revision 
and  amendment  as  new  information  came  to  his  hand. 
The  MSS.,  however,  have  been  classified  into  three  main 
divisions.  Those  belonging  to  the  first  division  are  by  far 
the  most  numerous,  and  supply  the  text  ordinarily  in  use, 
and  were  clearly  produced  under  English  influences.  The 
second  division  is  represented  by  two  MSS.,  preserved  at 
Amiens  and  Valenciennes,  and  belongs  to  a  later  period 
of  Froissart's  life.  The  third  division,  still  later  in  date,  is 
represented  by  only  one  MS.,  preserved  at  Rome,  and  con- 
taining but  a  portion  of  the  first  book  of  the  Chronicles. 
In  the  MSS.  belonging  to  the  second  and  third  divisions, 
the  influences  are  other  than  English.  All  this  will  be 
found  explained  and  illustrated  in  the  Introduction  to 
the  edition  of  the  Chronicles  published  for  the  Societe  de 
PHistoire  de  France,  by  the  late  able  and  erudite  M. 
Simeon  Luce  —  an  edition  which,  when  completed,  w^ill 
probably  be  final  and  not  deposed. 

The  Chronicles  of  Jehan  le  Bel,  which  formed  the  ground- 
work of  the  earlier  portion  of  Froissart's  Chronicles,  were 
discovered  in  1861  and  published  at  Brussels,  by  M.  Polain, 
in  1863. 

It  may  be  added  that  since  the  above  pages  were  written, 
a  very  interesting  little  book  on  Froissart,  by  Mrs.  Mary 
Darmesteter,  has  been  published  in  the  French  Series  Les 
Grajids  Ecrivains  de  la  France. 


PASSAGES  FROM  FROISSART. 


FROISSART'S   PREFACE. 

That  the  honourable  enterprises,  noble  adventures,  and 
deeds  of  arms,  performed  in  the  wars  between  England  and 
France,  may  be  properly  related,  and  held  in  perpetual 
remembrance — to  the  end  that  brave  men  taking  example 
from  them  may  be  encouraged  in  their  well-doing,  I  sit 
down  to  record  a  history  deserving  great  praise;  but,  before 
I  begin,  I  request  of  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  who  from 
nothing  created  all  things,  that  he  will  have  the  goodness  to 
inspire  me  with  sense  and  sound  understanding  to  per- 
severe in  such  manner,  that  all  those  who  shall  read  may 
derive  pleasure  and  instruction  from  my  work,  and  that  I 
may  fall  into  their  good  graces. 

It  is  said,  and  with  truth,  that  all  towns  are  built  of  many 
different  stones,  and  that  all  large  rivers  are  formed  from 
many  springs;  so  are  sciences  compiled  by  many  learned 
persons,  and  what  one  is  ignorant  of  is  known  to  another: 
not  but  that  everything  is  known  sooner  or  later.  Now,  to 
come  to  the  matter  in  hand,  I  will  first  beg  the  grace  of 
God  and  the  benign  Virgin  Mary,  from  whom  all  comfort 
and  success  proceed ;  and  then  I  will  lay  my  foundation  on 
the  true  Chronicles  formerly  written  by  that  reverend,  wise, 
and  discreet  man,  John  le  Bel,  canon  of  St.  Lambert's,  at 
Liege;  who  bestowed  great  care  and  diligence  on  them,  and 

I 


2  FJWISSARrS  PREFACE, 

«:cntmued  them,  as  fuithfully  as  he  could,  to  his  death,  though 
not  without  much  pains  and  expense;  but  these  he  minded 
not,  being  rich  and  powerful.  He  was  also  a  man  of 
courteous  manners,  generous,  and  a  privy  counsellor,  well 
beloved  by  sir  John  de  Hainault ;  who  is  spoken  of  in  these 
books,  and  not  without  reason,  for  he  was  the  chief  of  many 
noble  enterprises,  and  nearly  related  to  several  kings;  and 
by  his  means  the  above-mentioned  John  le  Bel  could  see 
as  through  a  perspective  the  many  gallant  actions  recorded 
in  the  following  sheets. 

The  true  reason  of  my  undertaking  this  book  was  for  my 
amusement,  to  which  I  have  ever  been  inclined,  and  for 
which  I  have  frequented  the  company  of  many  noblemen 
and  gentlemen,  as  well  in  France  as  in  England  and  Scot- 
land, and  in  other  countries,  from  whose  acquaintance  I 
have  always  requested  accounts  of  battles  and  adventures, 
especially  since  the  mighty  battle  of  Poictiers,  where  the 
noble  king  John  of  France  was  taken  prisoner;  for  before 
that  time  I  was  young  in  years  and  understanding :  how- 
ever, on  quitting  school,  I  boldly  undertook  to  write  and 
relate  the  wars  above  mentioned — which  compilation,  such 
as  it  was,  I  carried  to  England,  and  presented  to  my  lady 
Philippa  of  Hainault,  queen  of  England,  who  most  graci- 
ously received  it  from  me,  to  my  great  profit.  And  perhaps 
as  this  book  is  neither  so  exactly  nor  so  well  written  as  such 
feats  of  arms  require — for  such  deeds  demand  that  eacli 
actor  who  therein  performs  his  part  nobly  should  have  due 
praise — in  order  to  acquit  myself  to  all,  as  in  justice  is  due, 
I  have  undertaken  this  present  work  on  the  ground  before 
mentioned,  at  the  prayer  and  request  of  my  dear  lord  and 
master,  sir  Robert  de  Namur,  knight,  lord  of  Beaufort,  to 
whom  I  owe  all  love  and  obedience,  and  God  give  me  grace 
to  do  always  according  to  his  pleasure. 


FROISSART. 


THE   BRAVEST    KNIGHTS   OF   THIS   CHRONICLE. 

To  encourage  all  valorous  hearts,  and  to  show  them  honourable 
examples,  I,  John  Froissart,  will  begin  to  relate,  after  the 
documents  and  papers  of  master  John  le  Bel,  formerly  canon 
of  St.  Lambert's,  at  Liege,  as  followeth :  That  whereas  various 
noble  personages  have  frequently  spoken  of  the  wars  between 
France  and  England,  without  knowing  anything  of  the  matter, 
or  being  able  to  assign  the  proper  reasons  for  them ;  I,  having 
perceived  the  right  foundation  of  the  matter,  shall  neither  add 
nor  omit,  forget,  corrupt,  nor  abridge  my  history ;  but  the  rather 
will  enlarge  it,  that  I  may  be  able  to  point  out  and  speak  of 
each  adventure  from  the  nativity  of  the  noble  king  Edward  of 
England,  who  so  potently  reigned,  and  who  was  engaged  in  so 
many  battles  and  perilous  adventures,  and  other  feats  of  arms 
and  great  prowess,  from  the  year  of  grace  1326,  when  he  was 
crowned  in  England. 

Although  he,  and  also  those  who  were  with  him  in  his  battles 
and  fortunate  rencounters,  or  with  his  army  when  he  was  not 
there  in  person,  which  you  shall  hear  as  we  go  on,  ought  to  be 
accounted  right  valiant;  yet  as  of  these  there  is  a  multitude 
some  should  be  esteemed  supereminent.  Such  as  the  gallant 
king  himself  before  named ;  the  prince  of  Wales,  his  son ;  the 
duke  of  Lancaster;  sir  Reginald  lord  Cobham;  sir  Walter 
Manny  of  Hainault,   knight;    sir  John    Chandos;    sir   Fulke 


4  FROISSART. 

Harley ;  and  many  others  who  are  recorded  in  this  book  for 
their  worth  and  prowess :  for  in  all  the  battles  by  sea  or  land 
in  which  they  were  engaged,  their  valour  was  so  distinguished 
that  they  should  be  esteemed  heroes  of  highest  renown — but 
without  disparagement  to  those  with  whom  they  served.  In 
France  also  was  found  good  chivalry,  strong  of  limb  and  stout 
of  heart,  and  in  great  abundance ;  for  the  kingdom  of  France 
was  never  brought  so  low  as  to  want  men  ever  ready  for  the 
combat.  Such  was  king  Philip  of  Valois,  a  bold  and  hardy 
knight,  and  his  son,  king  John ;  also  John,  king  of  Bohemia, 
and  Charles,  count  of  Alengon,  his  son;  the  count  of  Foix;  the 
chevaliers  de  Santre,  d'Arnaud  d'Angle,  de  Beauveau,  father 
and  son,  and  many  others  that  I  cannot  at  present  name ;  but 
they  shall  all  be  mentioned  in  due  time  and  place ;  for,  to  say 
the  truth,  we  must  allow  sufficient  bravery  and  ability  to  all  who 
were  engaged  in  such  cruel  and  desperate  battles,  and  discharged 
their  duty,  by  standing  their  ground  till  the  discomfiture. 


DEATH   OF  ROBERT  BRUCE,   KING  OF  SCOTLAND. 

King  Robert  of  Scotland,  who  had  been  a  very  valiant  knight, 
waxed  old,  and  was  attacked  with  so  severe  an  illness,  that  he 
saw  his  end  was  approaching ;  he  therefore  summoned  together 
all  the  chiefs  and  barons,  in  whom  he  most  confided,  and,  after 
having  told  them  that  he  should  never  get  the  better  of  this 
sickness,  he  commanded  them,  upon  their  honour  and  loyalty, 
to  keep  and  preserve  faithfully  and  entire  the  kingdom  for  his 
son  David,  and  obey  him  and  crown  him  king  when  he  was  of 
a  proper  age,  and  to  marry  him  with  a  lady  suitable  to  his 
station. 

He  after  that  called  to  him  the  gallant  lord  James  Douglas, 
and  said  to  him,  in  presence  of  the  others,  "  My  dear  friend 
lord  James  Douglas,  you  know  that  I  have  had  much  to  do, 
and  have  suffered  many  troubles,  during  the  time  I  have  lived, 
to  support  the  rights  of  my  crown :  at  the  time  that  I  was  most 
occupied,  I  made  a  vow,  the  non-accomplishment  of  which  gives 


FROISSART.  5 

me  much  uneasiness — I  vowed  that,  if  I  could  finish  my  wars  in 
such  a  manner  that  I  might  have  quiet  to  govern  peaceably,  I 
would  go  and  make  war  against  the  enemies  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  and  the  adversaries  of  the  Christian  faith.  To  this  point 
my  heart  has  always  leaned;  but  our  Lord  was  not  willing,  and 
gave  me  so  much  to  do  in  my  lifetime,  and  this  last  expedition  has 
lasted  so  long,  followed  by  this  heavy  sickness,  that,  since  my 
body  cannot  accomplish  what  my  heart  wishes,  I  will  send  my 
heart  in  the  stead  of  my  body  to  fulfil  my  vow.  And,  as  I  do 
not  know  any  one  knight  so  gallant  or  enterprising,  or  better 
formed  to  complete  my  intentions  than  yourself,  I  beg  and 
entreat  of  you,  dear  and  special  friend,  as  earnestly  as  I  can, 
that  you  would  have  the  goodness  to  undertake  this  expedition 
for  the  love  of  me,  and  to  acquit  my  soul  to  our  Lord  and 
Saviour;  for  I  have  that  opinion  of  your  nobleness  and  loyalty, 
that,  if  you  undertake  it,  it  cannot  fail  of  success — and  I  shall 
die  more  contented ;  but  it  must  be  executed  as  follows : — 

"  I  will,  that  as  soon  as  I  shall  be  dead,  you  take  my  heart 
from  my  body,  and  have  it  well  embalmed ;  you  will  also  take  as 
much  money  from  my  treasury  as  will  appear  to  you  sufficient 
to  perform  your  journey,  as  well  as  for  all  those  whom  you  may 
choose  to  take  with  you  in  your  train ;  you  will  then  deposit 
your  charge  at  the  Holy  Sepulchre  of  our  Lord,  where  he  was 
buried,  since  my  body  cannot  go  there.  You  will  not  be  sparing 
of  expense — and  provide  yourself  with  such  company  and  such 
things  as  may  be  suitable  to  your  rank — and  wherever  you  pass, 
\  uu  will  let  it  be  known  that  you  bear  the  heart  of  king  Robert 
of  Scotland,  which  you  are  carrying  beyond  seas  by  his  com- 
mand, since  his  body  cannot  go  thither." 

All  those  present  began  bewailing  bitterly;  and  when  the 
lord  James  could  speak,  he  said,  "  Gallant  and  noble  king,  I 
return  you  a  hundred  thousand  thanks  for  the  high  honour 
you  do  me,  and  for  the  valuable  and  dear  treasure  with  which 
you  entrust  me ;  and  I  will  most  willingly  do  all  that  you 
command  me  with  the  utmost  loyalty  in  my  power;  never 
doubt  it,  however  I  may  feel  myself  unworthy  of  such  a  high 
distinction." 


6  FROISSART. 

The  king  replied.  "Gallant  knight,  I  thank  you — you  promise 
it  me  then  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  sir,  most  willingly,"  answered  the  knight.  He 
then  gave  his  promise  upon  his  knighthood. 

The  king  said,  "  Thanks  be  to  God  !  for  I  shall  now  die  in 
peace,  since  I  know  that  the  most  valiant  and  accomplished 
knight  of  my  kingdom  will  perform  that  for  me  which  I  am 
unable  to  do  for  myself." 

Soon  afterwards  the  valiant  Robert  Bruce,  king  of  Scotland, 
departed  this  life,  on  the  7th  of  November  1337.  His  heart 
was  embalmed,  and  his  body  buried  in  the  monastery  of  Dun- 
fermline. Shortly  after  died  also  the  noble  earl  of  Moray,  who 
was  one  of  the  most  gallant  and  powerful  princes  in  Scotland : 
he  bore  for  arms,  argent,  three  pillows  gules. 

Early  in  the  spring,  the  lord  James  Douglas,  having  made 
provision  of  everything  that  was  proper  for  his  expedition,  em- 
barked at  the  port  of  Montrose,  and  sailed  directly  for  Sluys  in 
Flanders,  in  order  to  learn  if  any  one  were  going  beyond  the 
sea  to  Jerusalem,  that  he  might  join  companies.  He  remained 
there  twelve  days,  and  would  not  set  his  foot  on  shore,  but  stayed 
the  whole  time  on  board,  where  he  kept  a  magnificent  table, 
with  music  of  trumpets  and  drums,  as  if  he  had  been  the  king 
of  Scotland.  His  company  consisted  of  one  knight  banneret, 
and  seven  others  of  the  most  valiant  knights  of  Scotland,  with- 
out counting  the  rest  of  his  household.  His  plate  was  of  gold 
and  silver,  consisting  of  pots,  basins,  porringers,  cups,  bottles, 
barrels,  and  other  such  things.  He  had  likewise  twenty-six 
young  and  gallant  esquires  of  the  best  families  in  Scotland  to 
wait  on  him ;  and  all  those  who  came  to  visit  him  were  hand- 
somely served  with  two  sorts  of  wine  and  two  sorts  of  spices — I 
mean  those  of  a  certain  rank.  At  last,  after  staying  at  Sluys 
twelve  days,  he  heard  that  Alphonso,  king  of  Spain,  was  waging 
war  against  the  Saracen  king  of  Granada.  He  considered,  that 
if  he  should  go  thither  he  should  employ  his  time  and  journey 
according  to  the  late  king's  wishes  ;  and  when  he  should  have 
finished  there  he  would  proceed  further  to  complete  that  with 
which  he  was  charged.     He  made  sail  therefore  towards  Spain, 


FROISSART.  7 

and  landed  first  at  Valencia ;  thence  he  went  straight  to  the 
king  of  Spain,  who  was  with  his  army  on  the  frontiers,  very 
near  the  Saracen  king  of  Granada. 

It  happened,  soon  after  the  arrival  of  the  lord  James  Douglas, 
that  the  king  of  Spain  issued  forth  into  the  fields,  to  make  his 
approaches  nearer  the  enemy;  the  king  of  Granada  did  the 
same ;  and  each  king  could  easily  distinguish  the  other's 
banners,  and  they  both  began  to  set  their  armies  in  array.  The 
lord  James  placed  himself  and  his  company  on  one  side,  to 
make  better  work  and  a  more  powerful  effort.  When  he  per- 
ceived that  the  battalions  on  each  side  were  fully  arranged,  and 
that  of  the  king  of  Spain  in  motion,  he  imagined  they  were 
about  to  begin  the  onset ;  and  as  he  always  wished  to  be  among 
the  first  rather  than  last  on  such  occasions,  he  and  all  his 
company  stuck  their  spurs  into  their  horses,  until  they  were 
in  the  midst  of  the  king  of  Granada's  battalion,  and  made  a 
furious  attack  on  the  Saracens.  He  thought  that  he  should  be 
supported  by  the  Spaniards ;  but  in  this  he  was  mistaken,  for 
not  one  that  day  followed  his  example.  The  gallant  knight  and 
all  his  companions  were  surrounded  by  the  enemy :  they  per- 
formed prodigies  of  valour ;  but  they  were  of  no  avail,  as  they 
were  all  killed.  It  was  a  great  misfortune  that  they  were  not 
assisted  by  the  Spaniards. 


THE  NAVAL  ENGAGEMENT   BETWEEN   THE  KING   OF 
ENGLAND  AND   THE   FRENCH   BEFORE   SLUYS. 

We  will  now  leave  the  duke  of  Normandy  and  the  earl  of 
Hainault,  and  speak  of  the  king  of  England,  who  had  embarked 
for  Flanders,  in  order  to  go  to  Hainault  to  assist  his  brother- 
in-law  in  his  war  against  France.  He  and  his  whole  navy  sailed 
from  the  Thames  the  day  before  the  eve  of  St.  John  the  Baptist, 
1340,  and  made  straight  for  Sluys.  Sir  Hugh  Quiriel,  sir  Peter 
Bahucet,  and  Barbenoire  were  at  that  time  lying  between 
Blanckenburgh  and  Sluys  with  upwards  of  one  hundred  and 


8  I^'ROISSART. 

twenty  large  vessels,  without  counting  others :  these  were 
manned  with  about  forty  thousand  men,  Genoese  and  Picards, 
including  mariners.  By  the  orders  of  the  king  of  France,  they 
were  there  at  anchor,  waiting  the  return  of  the  king  of  England, 
to  dispute  his  passage. 

When  the  king's  fleet  was  almost  got  to  Sluys,  they  saw  so 
many  masts  standing  before  it  that  they  looked  like  a  wood. 
The  king  asked  the  commander  of  his  ship  what  they  could  be, 
who  answered  that  he  imagined  they  must  be  that  armament  of 
Normans  which  the  king  of  France  kept  at  sea,  and  which  had 
so  frequently  done  him  much  damage,  had  burnt  his  good  town 
of  Southampton,  and  taken  his  large  ship  the  Christopher.  The 
king  replied,  "  I  have  for  a  long  time  wished  to  meet  with  them, 
and  now,  please  God  and  St.  George,  we  will  fight  with  them ; 
for,  in  truth,  they  have  done  me  so  much  mischief,  that  I  will 
be  revenged  on  them,  if  it  be  possible."  The  king  then  drew  up 
all  his  vessels,  placing  the  strongest  in  the  front,  and  on  the 
wings  his  archers.  Between  every  two  vessels  with  archers, 
there  was  one  of  men-at-arms.  He  stationed  some  detached 
vessels  as  a  reserve,  full  of  archers,  to  assist  and  help  such  as 
might  be  damaged.  There  were  in  this  fleet  a  great  many 
ladies  from  England,  countesses,  baronesses,  and  knights'  and 
gentlemen's  wives,  who  were  going  to  attend  on  the  queen  at 
Ghent  :  these  the  king  had  guarded  most  carefully  by  three 
hundred  men-at-arms  and  five  hundred  archers.  When  the 
king  of  England  and  his  marshals  had  properly  divided  the 
fleet,  they  hoisted  their  sails  to  have  the  wind  on  their  quarter, 
as  the  sun  shone  full  in  their  faces,  which  they  considered 
might  be  of  disadvantage  to  them,  and  stretched  out  a  little,  so 
that  at  last  they  got  the  wind  as  they  wished.  The  Normans, 
who  saw  them  tack,  could  not  help  wondering  why  they  did  so, 
and  said  they  took  good  care  to  turn  about,  for  they  were  afraid 
of  meddling  with  them:  they  perceived,  however,  by  his  banner, 
that  the  king  was  on  board,  which  gave  them  great  joy,  as  they 
were  eager  to  fight  with  him;  so  they  put  their  vessels  in  proper 
order,  for  they  were  expert  and  gallant  men  on  the  seas.  They 
filled  the  Christopher^  the  large  ship  which  they  had  taken  the 


FROISSART.  9 

year  before  from  the  Enj,'lish,  with  trumpets  and  other  warhke 
instruments,  and  ordered  her  to  fall  upon  the  English.  The 
battle  then  began  ver>'  fiercely;  archers  and  cross-bowmen  shot 
with  all  their  might  at  each  other,  and  the  men-at-arms  engaged 
hand  to  hand :  in  order  to  be  more  successful,  they  had  large 
grapnels,  and  iron  hooks  with  chains,  which  they  flung  from 
ship  to  ship,  to  moor  them  to  each  other.  There  were  many 
valiant  deeds  performed,  many  prisoners  made,  and  many 
rescues.  The  Christopher^  which  led  the  van,  was  recaptured 
by  the  English,  and  all  in  her  taken  or  killed.  There  were  then 
great  shouts  and  cries,  and  the  English  manned  her  again  with 
archers,  and  sent  her  to  fight  against  the  Genoese. 

This  battle  was  very  murderous  and  horrible.  Combats  at 
sea  are  more  destructive  and  obstinate  than  upon  land,  for  it  is 
not  possible  to  retreat  or  flee — every  one  must  abide  his  fortune, 
and  exert  his  prowess  and  valour.  Sir  Hugh  Quiriel  and  his 
ompanions  were  bold  and  determined  men,  had  done  much 
mischief  to  the  English  at  sea,  and  destroyed  many  of  their 
ships;  this  combat,  therefore,  lasted  from  early  in  the  morning 
until  noon,  and  the  English  were  hard  pressed,  for  their  enemies 
were  four  to  one,  and  the  greater  part  men  who  had  been  used 
to  the  sea.  The  king,  who  was  in  the  flower  of  his  youth, 
showed  himself  on  that  day  a  gallant  knight,  as  did  the  earls 
i^f  Derby,  Pembroke,  Hereford,  Huntingdon,  Northampton, 
and  Gloucester;  the  lord  Reginald  Cobham,  lord  Felton,  lord 
P)radestan,  sir  Richard  Stafford,  the  lord  Percy,  sir  Walter 
Manny,  sir  Henr>'  de  Flanders,  sir  John  Beauchamp,  sir  John 
Chandos,  the  lord  Delaware,  Lucie  lord  Malton,  and  the  lord 
Robert  d'Artois,  now  called  earl  of  Richmond.  I  cannot  re- 
member all  the  names  of  those  who  beha\'ed  so  valiantly  in 
the  combat;  but  they  did  so  well  that,  with  some  assistance 
from  Bruges,  and  those  parts  of  the  country,  the  French  were 
completely  defeated,  and  all  the  Normans  and  the  others  were 
killed  or  drowned,  so  that  not  one  of  them  escaped.  This  was 
soon  known  all  over  Flanders;  and  when  it  came  to  the  two 
armies  before  Thin-l'Eveque,  the  Hainaulters  were  as  much 
rejoiced  as  their  enemies  were  dismayed. 


16  FROISSART. 

After  the  king  had  gained  this  victory,  which  was  on  the  eve 
of  St.  John's  day,  he  remained  all  that  night  on  board  of  his 
ship  before  Sluys,  and  there  were  great  noises  with  trumpets 
and  all  kinds  of  other  instruments.  The  Flemings  came  to  wait 
on  him,  having  heard  of  his  arrival,  and  what  deeds  he  had 
performed.  The  king  inquired  of  the  citizens  of  Bruges  after 
Jacob  von  Artaveld,  and  they  told  him  he  was  gone  to  the  aid 
of  the  earl  of  Hainault  with  upwards  of  sixty  thousand  men, 
against  the  duke  of  Normandy.  On  the  morrow,  which  was 
Midsummer-day,  the  king  and  his  fleet  entered  the  port.  As 
soon  as  they  were  landed,  the  king,  attended  by  crowds  of 
knights,  set  out  on  foot  on  a  pilgrimage  to  our  Lady  of  Ardem- 
bourg,  where  he  heard  mass  and  dined.  He  then  mounted  his 
horse,  and  went  that  day  to  Ghent,  where  the  queen  was,  who 
received  him  with  great  joy  and  kindness.  The  army  and 
baggage,  with  the  attendants  of  the  king,  followed  him  by 
degrees  to  the  same  place. 

The  king  had  sent  notice  of  his  arrival  to  the  lords  that  were 
before  Thin-FEveque  opposing  the  French,  who  as  soon  as  they 
heard  of  it,  and  of  his  victory  over  the  Normans,  broke  up  their 
camp.  The  earl  of  Hainault  disbanded  all  his  troops,  except 
the  principal  lords,  whom  he  carried  with  him  to  Valenciennes, 
and  treated  most  nobly,  especially  the  duke  of  Brabant  and 
Jacob  von  Artaveld.  Jacob  von  Artaveld,  in  the  full  market- 
place, explained  the  right  king  Edward  had  to  the  crown  of 
France  to  all  those  lords  that  chose  to  hear  him,  and  of  what 
importance  it  was  to  the  three  countries,  that  is  to  say, 
Flanders,  Brabant,  and  Hainault,  when  closely  united.  He 
spoke  so  clearly,  and  with  so  much  eloquence,  that  he  was 
praised  by  all,  who  agreed  that  he  was  worthy  to  exercise  the 
dignity  of  earl  of  Flanders.  These  lords  then  took  their  leave, 
and  agreed  to  meet  in  eight  days'  time  at  Ghent,  to  see  the 
king.  He  received  them  all  most  courteously,  as  did  the  queen, 
who  was  but  lately  recovered  from  her  lying-in  of  a  son,  called 
John,  afterwards  duke  of  Lancaster,  in  the  right  of  his  wife,  the 
Lidy  Blanche,  daughter  of  Henry,  duke  of  Lancaster.  A  day  of 
conference  was  then  appointed  to  be  held  at  Vilvordc, 


FI^OISSART.  11 


EDWARD   III.    AND  THE  COUNTESS   OF  SALISBURY. 

That  same  day  that  the  Scots  had  decamped  from  before  the 
castle  of  Wark,  king  Edward  and  his  whole  army  arrived  there 
about  mid-day,  and  took  up  their  position  on  the  ground  which 
the  .Scots  had  occupied.  When  he  found  that  they  were  returned 
home,  he  was  much  enraged;  for  he  had  come  there  with  so 
much  speed,  that  both  his  men  and  horses  were  sadly  fatigued. 
He  ordered  his  men  to  take  up  their  quarters  where  they  were, 
as  he  wished  to  go  to  the  castle  to  see  the  noble  dame  within, 
whom  he  had  never  seen  since  her  marriage.  Every  one  made 
up  his  lodgings  as  he  pleased ;  and  the  king,  as  soon  as  he  was 
disarmed,  taking  ten  or  tw^elve  knights  with  him,  went  to  the 
castle  to  salute  the  countess  of  Salisbury,  and  to  examine  what 
damage  the  attacks  of  the  Scots  had  done,  and  the  manner  in 
which  those  within  had  defended  themselves.  The  moment  the 
countess  heard  of  the  king's  approach,  she  ordered  all  the  gates 
to  be  thrown  open,^  and  went  to  meet  him,  most  richly  dressed ; 

^  This  is  Lord  Berners'  version  of  this  celebrated  passage: — "As 
sone  as  the  lady  knewe  of  the  kynge's  comyng,  she  set  opyn  the  gates 
and  came  out  so  richly  besene,  that  euery  man  marueyled  of  her  beauty, 
and  coude  nat  cease  to  regard  her  nobleness,  with  her  great  beauty  and 
the  gracyous  wordes  and  countenaunce  that  she  made.  When  she 
came  to  the  kyng  she  knelyd  downe  to  the  yerth,  thankyng  hym  of  his 
socours,  and  so  ledde  hym  into  the  castell  to  make  hym  chere  and 
honour  as  she  that  coude  ryght  well  do  it.  Euery  man  regarded  her 
maruelussly;  the  kyng  hymselfe  coude  nat  witholde  his  regardyng  of 
her,  for  he  thought  that  he  neuer  sawe  before  so  noble  nor  so  fayre  a 
lady ;  he  was  stryken  therwith  to  the  hert  with  a  spercle  of  fyne  loue  that 
endured  long  after;  he  thought  no  lady  in  the  worlde  so  worthy  to  be 
beloude  as  she.  Thus  they  entred  into  the  castell  hande  in  hande;  the 
lady  ledde  hym  first  into  the  hall,  and  after  into  the  chambre  nobly 
aparelled.  The  king  regarded  so  the  lady  that  she  was  abasshed ;  at 
last  he  went  to  a  wyndo  to  rest  hym,  and  so  fell  into  a  great  study. 
The  lady  went  about  to  make  chere  to  the  lordes  and  knyghtes  that 
were  ther,  and  comaunded  to  dresse  the  hall  for  dyner.  Whan  she 
had  al  deuysed  and  comaunded  tham  she  came  to  the  kynge  with  a 


12  FROISSART. 

insomuch,  that  no  one  could  look  at  her  but  with  wonder,  and 
admiration  at  her  noble  deportment,  great  beauty,  and  affability 
of  behaviour.  When  she  came  near  the  king-,  she  made  her 
reverence  to  the  ground,  and  gave  him  her  thanks  for  coming 
to  her  assistance,  and  then  conducted  him  into  the  castle,  to 
entertain  and  honour  him,  as  she  was  very  capable  of  doing. 
Every  one  was  delighted  with  her:  the  king  could  not  take  his 
eyes  off  her,  as  he  thought  he  had  never  before  seen  so  beautiful 
or  sprightly  a  lady;  so  that  a  spark  of  fine  love  struck  upon  his 
heart,  which  lasted  a  long  time,  for  he  did  not  believe  that  the 
whole  world  produced  any  other  lady  so  worthy  of  being 
beloved.      Thus  they  entered  the  castle,  hand  in  hand  :    the 

mery  chere  (who  was  in  a  great  study),  and  she  sayd,  Dere  sir,  why  do 
you  study  so,  for,  your  grace  nat  dyspleased,  it  aparteyneth  nat  to  you 
so  to  do;  rather  ye  shulde  make  good  chere  and  be  joyfull  seyng  ye 
haue  chased  away  your  enniies  who  durst  nat  abyde  you ;  let  other  men 
study  for  the  remynant.  Than  the  kyng  sayd,  A  dere  lady,  knowe  for 
troulhe  that  syth  I  entred  into  the  castell  ther  is  a  study  come  to  my 
mynde  so  that  I  can  nat  chuse  but  to  muse,  nor  I  can  nat  tell  what 
shall  fall  therof;  put  it  out  of  my  herte  I  can  nat.  A  sir,  quoth  the 
lady,  ye  ought  alwayes  to  make  good  chere  to  comfort  therwith  your 
peple.  God  hath  ayded  you  so  in  your  besynes  and  hath  gyuen  you  so 
great  graces,  that  ye  be  the  moste  douted  and  honoured  prince  in  all 
christendome,  and  if  the  kynge  of  Scottes  haue  done  you  any  dyspyle 
or  damage  ye  may  well  amende  it  whan  it  shall  please  you,  as  ye  haue 
done  dyuerse  tymes  or  this.  Sir,  leaue  your  musing  and  come  into  the 
hall  if  it  please  you;  your  dyner  is  all  redy.  A  fayre  lady,  quoth  the 
kyng,  other  thynges  lyeth  at  my  hert  that  ye  knowe  nat  of,  but  surely 
your  swete  behauyng,  the  perfect  wysedom,  the  good  grace,  noblenes 
and  excellent  beauty  that  I  see  in  you,  hath  so  sore  surprised  my  hert 
that  I  can  nat  but  loue  you,  and  without  your  loue  I  am  but  deed. 
Than  the  lady  sayde,  A  ryght  noble  prince  for  Goddes  sake  mocke 
nor  tempt  me  nat;  I  can  nat  beleue  that  it  is  true  that  ye  say,  nor  that 
so  noble  a  prince  as  ye  be  wolde  thynke  to  dyshonour  me  and  my  lorde 
my  husbandc,  who  is  so  valyant  a  knyght  and  hath  done  your  grace  so 
gode  scruyce  and  as  yel  lyethe  in  prison  for  your  quarell.  Certely  sir 
ye  shulde  in  this  case  haue  but  a  small  prayse  and  nothing  the  better 
thcrby.     I  had  ncuer  as  yet  such  a  thoght  in  my  hert,  nor  I  trust  in 


I 


FROISSART.  13 

lady  led  him  first  into  the  hall,  then  to  his  chamber,  which  was 
richly  furnished,  as  belonging  to  so  fine  a  lady.  The  king  kept 
his  eyes  so  continually  upon  her  that  the  gentle  dame  was  quite 
abashed.  After  he  had  sufficiently  examined  his  apartment,  he 
retired  to  a  window,  and  leaning  on  it,  fell  into  a  profound 
reverie.  The  countess  went  to  entertain  the  other  knights  and 
squires,  ordered  dinner  to  be  made  ready,  the  tables  to  be  set, 
and  the  hall  ornamented  and  dressed  out.  When  she  had 
given  all  the  orders  to  her  servants  she  thought  necessary,  she 
returned,  with  a  cheerful  countenance,  to  the  king,  who  con- 
tinued musing,  and  said  to  him,  "  Dear  sir,  what  are  you  musing 
on  ?     So  much  meditating  is  not  proper  for  you,  saving  your 

God,  neuer  shall  haue  for  no  man  lyueng;  if  I  had  any  suche  intencyon 
your  grace  ought  nat  all  onely  to  blame  me,  but  also  to  punysshe  my 
body,  ye  and  by  true  iustice  to  be  dismembred.  Therwith  the  lady 
departed  fro  the  kyng  and  went  into  the  hall  to  hast  the  dyner;  than 
she  returned  agayne  to  the  kyng  and  broght  some  of  his  knyghtes  with 
her,  and  sayd,  Sir,  yf  it  please  you  to  come  into  the  hall  your  knyghtes 
abideth  for  you  to  wasshe;  ye  haue  ben  to  long  fastyng.  Than  the 
kyng  went  into  the  hall  and  wassht  and  sat  down  among  his  lordes  and 
the  lady  also.  The  kyng  ete  but  lytell,  he  sat  styll  musing,  and  as  he 
durst  he  cast  his  eyen  upon  the  lady.  Of  his  sadnesse  his  knyghtes  had 
maruell  for  he  was  nat  acustomed  so  to  be;  some  thought  it  was  because 
the  Scotts  were  scaped  fro  hym.  All  that  day  the  kyng  taryed  ther  and 
wyst  nat  what  to  do.  Sometime  he  ymagined  that  honour  and  trouth 
defended  hym  to  set  his  hert  in  such  a  case  to  dyshonour  such  a  lady 
and  so  true  a  knight  as  her  husband  was  who  had  ahvayes  well  and 
truely  serued  hym.  On  thother  part  loue  so  constrayned  hym  that  the 
power  thereof  surmounted  honour  and  trouth.  Thus  the  kyng  debated 
in  hymself  all  that  day  and  all  that  night.  In  the  mornyng  he  arose 
and  dyssloged  all  his  boost  and  drewe  after  the  Scottes  to  chase  them 
out  of  his  realme.  Than  he  toke  leaue  of  the  lady  sayeng,  My  dere 
lady  to  God  I  comende  you  tyll  I  returne  agayne,  requiryng  you  to 
aduyse  you  otherwyse  than  ye  haue  sayd  to  me.  Noble  prince,  quoth 
the  lady,  God  the  father  glorious  be  your  conduct,  and  put  you  out  of 
all  vylayne  thoughts.  Sir,  I  am  and  euer  shal  be  redy  to  do  your  grace 
seruyce  to  your  honour  and  to  myne.  Therwith  the  kyng  departed  all 
abasshed." 


14  FROISSART. 

grace:  you  ought  rather  to  be  in  high  spirits,  for  having  driven 
your  enemies  before  you,  without  their  having  had  the  courage 
to  wait  for  you,  and  should  leave  the  trouble  of  thinking  to 
others."  The  king  replied,  "Oh,  dear  lady,  you  must  know 
that  since  I  have  entered  this  castle,  an  idea  has  struck  my 
mind  that  I  was  not  aware  of ;  so  that  it  behoves  me  to  reflect 
upon  it.  I  am  uncertain  what  may  be  the  event,  for  I  cannot 
withdraw  my  whole  attention  from  it."  "  Dear  sir,"  replied  the 
lady,  "you  ought  to  be  of  good  cheer,  and  feast  with  your 
friends,  to  give  them  more  pleasure,  and  leave  off  thinking 
and  meditating;  for  God  has  been  very  bountiful  to  you  in  all 
your  undertakings,  and  showed  you  so  much  favour,  that  you 
are  the  most  feared  and  renowned  prince  in  Christendom.  If 
the  king  of  Scotland  have  vexed  you  by  doing  harm  to  your 
kingdom,  you  can,  at  your  pleasure,  make  yourself  amends  at 
his  expense,  as  you  have  done  before :  therefore  come,  if  you 
please,  into  the  hall  to  your  knights,  for  dinner  will  soon  be 
ready." 

"  Oh,  dear  lady,"  said  the  king,  "  other  things  touch  my  heart, 
and  lie  there,  than  what  you  think  of ;  for,  in  truth,  the  elegant 
carriage,  the  perfections  and  beauties  which  I  have  seen  you 
possess,  have  very  much  surprised  me,  and  have  so  deeply 
impressed  my  heart,  that  my  happiness  depends  on  meeting 
a  return  from  you  to  my  flame,  which  no  denial  can  ever 
extinguish." 

"Sweet  sir,"  replied  the  countess,  "do  not  amuse  yourself  in 
laughing  at  or  tempting  me;  for  I  cannot  believe  you  mean 
what  you  have  just  said,  or  that  so  noble  and  gallant  a  prince 
as  you  are  would  ever  think  to  dishonour  me  or  my  husband, 
who  is  so  valiant  a  knight,  who  has  served  you  faithfully,  and 
who,  on  your  account,  now  lies  in  prison.  Certainly,  sir,  this 
would  not  add  to  your  glory;  nor  would  you  be  the  better  for  it. 
Such  a  thought  has  never  once  entered  my  mind,  and  I  trust  in 
God  it  never  will,  for  any  man  living ;  and,  if  I  were  so  culpable, 
it  is  you  who  ought  to  blame  me,  and  have  my  body  punished, 
through  strict  justice." 

The    virtuous   lady   then    quitted    the   king,    who   was   quite 


i 


FRO  I SS ART.  15 

astonished,  and  went  to  the  hall  to  hasten  the  dinner.  She 
afterwards  returned  to  the  king,  attended  by  the  knights,  and 
said  to  him,  "Sir,  come  to  the  hall;  your  knights  are  waiting 
for  you,  to  wash  their  hands,  for  they,  as  well  as  yourself,  have 
too  long  fasted."  The  king  left  his  room  and  came  to  the  hall ; 
where,  after  he  had  washed  his  hands,  he  seated  himself,  with 
his  knights,  at  the  dinner,  as  did  the  lady  also;  but  the  king  ate 
very  little,  and  was  the  whole  time  pensive,  casting  his  eyes, 
whenever  he  had  an  opportunity,  towards  the  countess.  Such 
behaviour  surprised  his  friends ;  for  they  were  not  accustomed 
to  it,  and  had  never  seen  the  like  before.  They  imagined, 
therefore,  that  it  was  by  reason  of  the  Scots  having  escaped 
from  him.  The  king  remained  at  the  castle  the  whole  day, 
without  knowing  what  to  do  with  himself.  Sometimes  he 
remonstrated  w^ith  himself,  that  honour  and  loyalty  forbade 
him  to  admit  such  treason  and  falsehood  into  his  heart,  as  to 
wish  to  dishonour  so  virtuous  a  lady,  and  so  gallant  a  knight  as 
her  husband  was,  and  who  had  ever  so  faithfully  served  him. 
At  other  times  his  passion  was  so  strong,  that  his  honour  and 
loyalty  were  not  thought  of.  Thus  did  he  pass  that  day,  and  a 
sleepless  night,  in  debating  this  matter  in  his  own  mind.  At 
daybreak  he  arose,  drew  out  his  whole  army,  decamped,  and 
followed  the  Scots,  to  chase  them  out  of  his  kingdom.  Upon 
taking  leave  of  the  countess,  he  said,  "  My  dear  lady,  God 
preserve  you  until  I  return ;  and  I  entreat  that  you  will  think 
well  of  what  I  have  said,  and  have  the  goodness  to  give  me  a 
different  answer."  "Dear  sir,"  replied  the  countess,  "God,  of 
his  infinite  goodness,  preserve  you,  and  drive  from  your  heart 
such  villainous  thoughts;  for  I  am,  and  always  shall  be,  ready 
to  serve  you,  consistently  with  my  own  honour,  and  with  yours.''' 
The  king  left  her  quite  surprised,  and  w^ent  with  his  army  after 
the  Scots,  following  them  almost  as  far  as  Berwick,  and  took 
up  his  quarters  four  leagues  distant  from  the  forest  of  Jedworth, 
where,  and  in  the  neighbouring  woods,  king  David  and  all  his 
people  were.  He  remained  there  for  three  days,  to  see  if  the 
Scots  would  venture  out  to  fight  with  him.  During  that  time 
there  were  many  skirmishes ;  many  killed  and  taken  prisoners  on 


i6  FROISSART. 

both  sides.  Sir  William  Douglas,  who  bore  for  arms  argent 
on  a  chef  azure,  was  always  among  the  foremost  in  these  attacks. 
He  performed  many  gallant  exploits,  and  was  a  great  annoy- 
ance to  the  English.  1 


MURDER  OF  JACOB  VON  ARTAVELD  AT  GHENT. 

Jacob  von  Artaveld,  the  citizen  of  Ghent  that  was  so  much 
attached  to  the  king  of  England,  still  maintained  the  same 
despotic  power  over  all  Flanders.     He  had  promised  the  king 

1  As  already  stated  in  the  Introduction,  there  neither  is,  nor  can 
be,  any  sole  and  final  text  or  version  of  Froissart's  Chronicles.  The 
passages  quoted  above,  relating  to  the  Countess  of  Salisbury,  were 
translated  from  what  the  late  M.  Simeon  Luce  calls  the  '*  ordinary  " 
version.  In  a  later  version,  represented  by  the  MS.  of  Amiens,  Frois- 
sart  adds  further  details  to  the  story.  The  passage  is  written  in  his 
best  style — with  his  best  ink,  as  the  French  would  say.  I  "English" 
it,  inadequately,  as  follows  : — After  dinner  the  tables  were  cleared. 
Then  the  king  sent  my  Lord  Reginald  Cobham  and  my  Lord  Richard 
Stamford  to  the  army,  and  to  the  companions  who  were  lodged  without 
the  castle,  to  know  how  they  did,  and  in  what  condition  they  were,  for 
he  was  minded  to  ride  forward  and  pursue  the  Scots,  and  wished  all  the 
chariots  and  materials  of  war  to  be  sent  on,  saying  that  at  night  he 
would  rejoin  the  host.  And  he  ordered  the  Earl  of  Pembroke  to  form 
the  rear-guard  with  five  hundred  lances,  and  wait  for  him  in  the  open 
country,  and  the  rest  to  ride  forward.  The  two  barons  did  all  that  he 
had  commanded  them. 

He  himself  still  remained  with  the  lady  in  the  Castle  of  Salisbury 
(i.e.,  belonging  to  the  Earl  of  Salisbury),  having  good  hope  that  before 
his  departure  she  would  give  him  a  more  agreeable  answer  than  he  had 
yet  had  from  her.  He  asked  that  chessmen  might  be  brought,  and  the 
lady  ordered  them  to  be  brought  accordingly.  Then  the  king  begged 
the  lady  to  play  with  him,  and  the  lady  willingly  consented,  for  she 
made  him  the  best  cheer  that  she  could,  as  indeed  she  was  bound  to  do, 
seeing  that  the  king  had  done  her  an  excellent  service  in  raising  the 
siege  of  her  castle  and  driving  away  the  Scots,  of  whom  she  stood  in 
great  peril,— and  seeing  also  that  the  king  was  her  right  and  natural 


FROISSART.  17 

of  England  that  he  would  give  him  the  inheritance  of  Flanders, 
invest  his  son  the  prince  of  Wales  with  it,  and  make  it  a  duchy 
instead  of  an  earldom.  Upon  which  account  the  king  was,  at 
this  period,  about  St.  John  the  Baptist's  day,  1345,  come  to 
Sluys,  with  a  numerous  attendance  of  barons  and  knights.  He 
had  brought  the  prince  of  Wales  with  him,  in  order  that  Jacob 
von  Artaveld's  promises  might  be  realised.  The  king  remained 
on  board  his  fleet  in  the  harbour  of  Sluys,  where  he  kept  his 
court  His  friends  in  Flanders  came  thither  to  see  and  visit 
him;  and  there  were  many  conferences  between  the  king  and 
Jacob  von  Artaveld  on  one  side,  and  the  councils  from  the  differ- 

sovereign  in  faith  and  homage.  At  the  opening  of  the  game  of  chess, 
the  king,  who  wished  to  leave  some  gift  of  his  with  the  lady,  said  to  her 
laughingly:  "Lady,  what  will  it  please  you  to  stake  upon  the  game?" 
And  the  lady  rejoined :  "And  you,  sire?"  Then  the  king  placed  on 
the  board  a  very  beautiful  ruby  ring  which  he  wore  on  his  finger.  But 
the  lady  said:  "  Sire,  sire,  I  have  no  ring  as  rich  as  yours."  "  Lady," 
said  the  king,  "stake  such  as  you  have.  I  shall  not  look  at  it  so 
closely." 

Then  the  countess,  to  gratify  the  king's  wish,  took  from  her  finger  a 
little  ring  of  gold,  which  had  no  great  value.  So  they  played  at  chess 
together,  the  lady  playing  her  best,  in  order  that  the  king  might  not 
take  her  to  be  silly  and  ignorant;  and  the  king  dissimulating  some- 
what, for  he  did  not  play  as  well  as  he  could.  And  scarcely  was  there 
any  pause  between  the  moves  but  the  king  looked  at  the  lady  so  fixedly, 
that  she  was  quite  confused,  and  thus  made  mistakes  in  her  play.  And 
when  the  king  saw  that  she  had  endangered  a  rook,  or  knight,  or  what 
not,  he  also  made  some  mistake  so  as  to  restore  the  lady's  chances  in 
the  game. 

They  played  till  the  king  lost,  and  was  at  last  checkmated.  Where- 
upon the  lady  rose  and  called  for  wine  and  spices,  for  the  king  made  as 
if  he  wished  to  leave.  And  the  lady  took  her  own  ring,  and  placed  it 
on  her  finger,  and  would  fain  have  induced  the  king  to  take  his  up  also, 
offering  it  to  him,  and  saying:  "Sire,  it  is  not  fitting  that  in  my  own 
house  I  should  receive  aught  of  yours:  rather  should  you  take  away 
something  of  mine."  "Lady,"  said  the  king,  "not  so;  for  such  has 
been  the  fortune  of  the  game ;  and  be  assured  that  if  I  had  won  your 
ring  I  should  have  worn  it."     The  lady  was  unwilling  to  press  the  king 

2 


iS  FROISSART. 

ent  capital  towns  on  the  other,  relative  to  the  agreement  before 
mentioned;  as  to  which,  those  from  the  country  did  not  unite 
in  sentiment  with  the  king  nor  with  von  Artaveld,  who  kept 
continually  reminding  him  of  their  quarrel,  and  exhorting  them 
to  disinherit  earl  Lewis,  their  natural  lord,  and  his  youngest 
son  Lewis,  in  favour  of  the  son  of  the  king  of  England ;  but 
they  declared  they  never  would  consent  to  such  a  thing.  At 
the  last  conference,  which  was  held  in  the  harbour  of  Sluys,  on 
board  the  king's  ship,  the  Catheri7ie  (which  was  of  such  an 
enormous  size  that  wonders  might  be  told  of  it),  they  made  this 
unanimous  reply :  "  Dear  sir,  the  request  you  have  made  has 
given  us  much  uneasiness,  and  may  in  times  to  come  be  pre- 

further,  but  she  went  to  one  of  her  damsels,  and  gave  her  the  ring, 
saying,  "When  you  see  that  the  king  has  gone  hence,  and  taken  leave 
of  me,  and  is  about  to  mount  his  horse,  then  go  forward,  and  give  him 
back  his  ring,  and  tell  him  I  will  in  no  wise  keep  it,  for  it  does  not 
belong  to  me."  The  damsel  answered  that  she  would  do  so  willingly. 
As  this  was  being  said,  the  spices  and  wines  were  brought.  The  king 
declared  he  would  not  partake  of  them  before  the  lady — nor  she  before 
him  ; — and  there  was  a  pleasant  strife  between  them.  Finally,  so  as  to 
cut  the  matter  short,  it  was  agreed  that  they  should  drink  at  the  same 
time.  After  this,  when  the  king's  knights  had  all  drunk,  the  king  took 
his  leave  of  the  lady,  and  said  out  loud,  so  as  not  to  seem  particular  in 
his  words,  *'  Lady,  you  are  staying  at  home,  and  I  am  going  to  follow 
my  enemies."  The  lady,  at  these  words,  bowed  very  low  before  the 
king.  And  the  king  took  her  lightly  by  her  right  hand,  and  pressed  it 
a  little,  somewhat  overmuch  in  sooth,  as  a  sign  of  love.  And  the  king 
looked,  and  saw  that  the  knights  and  damsels  were  busy  taking  leave 
of  one  another,  so  he  went  forward  again  to  speak  as  it  were  but  two  or 
three  words  more.  "  My  dear  lady,  may  God  have  you  in  His  keeping 
till  I  come  again,  and  I  pray  you  to  consider  and  to  be  better  advised 
in  what  ycu  have  said  to  me."  "  Dear  lord,"  rejoined  the  lady,  "  may 
the  Father  Almighty  lead  you,  and  keep  you  from  all  foul  and  dis- 
honourable thoughts;  for  I  am,  and  always  shall  be,  minded  and 
advised  to  serve  you  in  what  may  be  for  your  honour  and  mine." 

Then  the  king  left  the  apartments,  as  did  the  lady  also, — who  accom- 
panied him  to  the  court  where  his  palfrey  stood.  The  king  said  he 
would  not  mount  his  horse  as  long  as  the  lady  remained  there.     So,  to 


FI^OISSART.  19 

judicial  to  Flanders  and  our  successors.  True  it  is,  that  there 
is  not  in  the  world  any  prince  whom  we  love  so  much,  or  for 
whose  profit  and  advantage  we  would  exert  ourselves  so  greatly 
as  for  you ;  but  we  alone  cannot  agree  to  this  proposition,  un- 
less all  the  commonalties  of  Flanders  give  their  consent.  There- 
fore each  of  us  will  return  to  our  different  towns,  and  will 
explain  in  a  general  way  this  business  to  the  inhabitants;  when, 
if  the  greater  part  of  them  shall  consent,  we  also  will  agree  to 
it:  we  will  return  to  you  again  within  a  month,  and  bring  such 
answers  as  we  hope  will  be  satisfactory."  Neither  the  king  of 
England  nor  Jacob  von  Artaveld  could  at  that  time  obtain  more, 
or  any  other  answer.  They  wished  to  have  had  a  shorter  day 
appointed,  but  in  vain ;  so  the  king  answered,  he  was  satisfied 

cut  the  matter  short,  the  countess  took,  for  that  time,  final  leave  of  the 
king  and  of  his  knights,  and  retired  into  her  apartments  with  her 
damsels.  And  as  the  king  was  preparing  to  mount,  the  damsel  who 
had  been  so  instructed  by  her  lady,  came  to  the  king,  and  knelt  before 
him ; — and  when  the  king  saw  it,  he  raised  her  very  quickly,  thinking 
she  wished  to  speak  to  him  to  other  purpose  than  she  actually  did. 
"My  lord,"  she  said,  "here  is  your  ring,  which  my  lady  sends  back  to 
you,  humbly  praying  that  you  will  not  take  it  ill  if  she  cannot  consent 
to  keep  it  by  her.  You  have  done  so  much  for  her  in  other  manners, 
that  she  is  bound,  she  says,  to  be  always  your  servant."  The  king, 
hearing  the  damsel,  and  seeing  his  ring  in  her  hand,  and  understanding 
how  determined  was  the  countess  to  be  excused,  stood  all  astonished. 
Nevertheless,  so  that  he  might  have  his  wish,  and  so  that  the  ring 
might  remain  there,  as  he  had  determined  with  himself,  he  answered 
briefly,  for  it  was  no  occasion  for  long  speech,  "  Damsel,  since  it  does 
not  please  your  lady  to  keep  the  small  stake  she  won  of  me,  let  it 
remain  with  you."  So  speaking  he  mounted  his  palfrey,  and  issued 
from  the  castle,  and  rode  into  the  open  country  with  his  knights,  and 
found  the  Earl  of  Pembroke  waiting  for  him  with  about  five  hundred 
lances.  .  .  .  The  damsel  above  mentioned  going  back  to  her  lady, 
repeated  the  king's  answer,  and  wished  to  return  the  golden  ring 
which  the  king  had  lost  at  chess.  But  the  lady  would  in  nowise 
consent,  and  said  that  she  had  no  claim  to  it,  and  that  as  the  king  had 
given  it  to  the  damsel,  so  she  might  make  her  profit  of  it.  Thus  the 
king's  ring  remained  with  the  damsel. — Editor's  Note. 


20  FROISSART. 

that  it  should  be  as  they  determined.  The  conference  broke 
up,  and  each  returned  to  the  town  from  whence  he  had  been 
deputed. 

Jacob  von  Artaveld  remained  some  little  time  longer  with  the 
king  of  England,  in  order  to  be  made  acquainted  with  all  his 
affairs :  he,  in  return,  promised  and  assured  him  that  he  would 
bring  his  countrymen  over  to  his  opinion ;  but  he  deceived  him- 
self, and  did  wrong  in  staying  behind,  and  not  being  at  Ghent 
at  the  time  when  the  citizens  who  had  been  deputed  by  the 
corporations  of  the  town  arrived  there ;  for  as  soon  as  they  were 
returned,  taking  advantage  of  the  absence  of  von  Artaveld,  they 
collected  a  large  meeting  of  high  and  low  in  the  market-place, 
and  there  explained  to  them  the  subject  of  the  late  conferences 
at  Sluys,  and  what  the  king  of  England  had  required  of  them, 
through  the  advice  and  information  of  Jacob  von  Artaveld.  The 
whole  assembly  began  to  murmur  against  him ;  and  this  request 
was  received  unfavourably  by  all.  They  said,  "  that  if  it  pleased 
God,  they  never  would  be  pointed  out,  or  found  so  disloyal,  as 
to  disinherit  their  natural  lord,  in  favour  of  a  stranger."  They 
then  left  the  market-place  much  discontented,  and  angry  with 
Artaveld.  Now,  see  how  unfortunately  it  fell  out;  for  if  he  had 
gone  to  Ghent,  instead  of  Bruges  and  Ypres,  and  had  remon- 
strated with  them  upon  the  quarrel  of  the  king  of  England,  they 
would  all  have  consented  to  his  wishes,  as  those  of  the  two 
above-mentioned  towns  had  done ;  but  he  trusted  so  much  to 
his  prosperity  and  greatness,  that  he  thought  he  could  recover 
everything  back  in  a  little  time. 

When  on  his  return  he  came  to  Ghent  about  mid-day,  the 
townsmen,  who  were  informed  of  the  hour  he  was  expected,  had 
assembled  in  the  street  that  he  was  to  pass  through  ;  as  soon 
as  they  saw  him,  they  began  to  murmur,  and  put  their  heads 
close  together,  saying,  "  Here  comes  one  who  is  too  much  the 
master,  and  wants  to  order  in  Flanders  according  to  his  will  and 
pleasure,  which  must  not  be  longer  borne."  With  this  they 
had  also  spread  a  rumour  through  the  town,  that  Jacob  von 
Artaveld  had  collected  all  the  revenues  of  Flanders,  for  nine 
years  and  more ;  that  he  had  usurped  the  government  without 


I! 


FROISSART.  21 

rendering  an  account,  for  he  did  not  allow  any  of  the  rents  to 
pass  to  the  earl  of  Flanders,  but  kept  them  securely  to  maintain 
his  own  state,  and  had,  during  the  time  above  mentioned, 
received  all  fines  and  forfeitures:  of  this  great  treasure  he  had 
sent  part  into  England.  This  information  inflamed  those  of 
Ghent  with  rage ;  and,  as  he  was  riding  up  the  streets,  he  per- 
ceived that  there  was  something  in  agitation  against  him ;  for 
those  who  were  wont  to  salute  him  very  respectfully,  now  turned 
their  backs,  and  went  into  their  houses.  He  began  therefore  to 
suspect  all  was  not  as  usual ;  and  as  soon  as  he  dismounted, 
and  entered  his  hotel,  he  ordered  the  doors  and  windows  to  be 
shut  and  fastened. 

Scarcely  had  his  servants  done  this,  when  the  street  which  he 
inhabited  was  filled  from  one  end  to  the  other  with  all  sorts 
of  people,  but  especially  by  the  lowest  of  the  mechanics.  His 
mansion  was  surrounded  on  every  side,  attacked  and  broken 
into  by  force.  Those  within  did  all  they  could  to  defend  it,  and 
killed  and  wounded  many ;  but  at  last  they  could  not  hold  out 
against  such  vigorous  attacks,  for  three  parts  of  the  town  were 
there.  When  Jacob  von  Artaveld  saw  what  efforts  were  making, 
and  how  hardly  he  was  pushed,  he  came  to  a  window,  and,  with 
his  head  uncovered,  began  to  use  humble  and  fine  language, 
saying,  "  My  good  people,  what  aileth  you  ?  Why  are  you  so 
enraged  against  me?  by  what  means  can  I  have  incurred  your 
displeasure?  Tell  me,  and  I  will  conform  myself  entirely  to 
your  wills."  Those  who  had  heard  him  made  answer,  as  with 
one  voice,  "  We  want  to  have  an  account  of  the  great  treasures 
you  have  made  away  with,  without  any  title  of  reason."  Artaveld 
replied  in  a  soft  tone,  "  Gentlemen,  be  assured  that  I  have  never 
taken  anything  from  the  treasures  of  Flanders  ;  and  if  you  will 
return  quietly  to  your  homes,  and  come  here  to-morrow  morn- 
ing, I  will  be  provided  to  give  so  good  an  account  of  them,  that 
you  must  reasonably  be  satisfied."  But  they  cried  out,  "  No, 
no,  we  must  have  it  directly,  you  shall  not  thus  escape  from  us ; 
for  we  know  that  you  have  emptied  the  treasury,  and  sent  it  into 
England,  without  our  knowledge:  you  therefore  shall  suffer 
death."     When  he  heard  this,  he  clasped  his  hands  together, 


2  2  FROISSART. 

began  to  weep  bitterly,  and  said,  "  Gentlemen,  such  as  I  am, 
you  yourselves  have  made  me :  you  formerly  swore  you  would 
protect  me  against  all  the  world ;  and  now,  without  any  reason, 
you  want  to  murder  me.  You  are  certainly  masters  to  do  it,  if 
you  please ;  for  I  am  but  one  man  against  you  all.  Think 
better  of  it,  for  the  love  of  God :  recollect  former  times,  and 
consider  how  many  favours  and  kindnesses  I  have  conferred 
upon  you.  You  wish  to  give  me  a  sorry  recompense  for  all  the 
generous  deeds  you  have  experienced  at  my  hands.  You  are 
not  ignorant  that,  when  commerce  was  dead  in  this  country,  it 
was  I  who  restored  it.  I  afterwards  governed  you  in  so  peace- 
able a  manner,  that  under  my  administration  you  had  all  things 
according  to  your  wishes;  corn,  oats,  riches,  and  all  sorts  of 
merchandise  which  have  made  you  so  wealthy."  They  began 
to  bawl  out,  "  Come  down,  and  do  not  preach  to  us  from  such  a 
height ;  for  we  will  have  an  account  and  statement  of  the  great 
treasures  of  Flanders,  which  you  have  governed  too  long  with- 
out rendering  any  account ;  and  it  is  not  proper  for  an  officer  to 
receive  the  rents  of  a  lord,  or  of  a  countrj^,  without  accounting 
for  them."  When  Jacob  von  Artaveld  saw  that  he  could  not 
appease  or  calm  them,  he  shut  the  window,  and  intended  getting 
out  of  his  house  the  back  way,  to  take  shelter  in  a  church  ad- 
joining ;  but  his  hotel  was  already  broke  into  on  that  side,  and 
upwards  of  four  hundred  were  there  calling  out  for  him.  At  last 
he  was  seized  by  them,  and  slain  without  mercy :  his  death-stroke 
was  given  him  by  a  saddler,  called  Thomas  Denys.  In  this 
manner  did  Jacob  von  Artaveld  end  his  days,  who  in  his  time  had 
been  complete  master  of  Flanders.  Poor  men  first  raised  him, 
and  wicked  men  slew  him.  News  of  this  event  was  soon  spread 
abroad:  some  pitied  him,  whilst  others  rejoiced  at  it.  The  earl 
Lewis  had  remained  all  this  time  in  Dendremonde,  and  with 
much  pleasure  heard  of  Jacob  von  Artaveld's  death,  as  he  had 
very  much  opposed  him  in  all  his  undertakings ;  nevertheless, 
he  durst  not  yet  place  confidence  in  those  of  Flanders,  nor 
return  to  Ghent. 

When  the  king  of  England,  who  was  waiting  at  Sluys  for  the 
return  of  the  deputies,  was  informed  in  what  manner  the  inhabit- 


rROISSART.  i^ 

ants  of  Ghent  had  slain  his  faithful  friend  and  companion 
Artaveld,  he  was  in  a  mighty  passion,  and  sore  displeased.  He 
immediately  departed,  put  to  sea,  and  vowed  vengeance  against 
the  Flemings  and  all  Flanders,  declaring  that  his  death  should 
be  dearly  paid  for  by  them.  The  councils  of  the  principal  towns 
guessed  that  the  king  of  England  would  not  be  much  enraged 
against  them ;  they  therefore  considered  that  their  best  method 
to  soften  his  anger,  would  be  to  go  and  excuse  themselves  from 
the  murder  of  Jacob  von  Artaveld,  especially  those  of  Bruges, 
Ypres,  Courtray,  Oudenarde,  and  the  franc  of  Bruges.  They 
sent  to  the  king  and  his  council  for  a  safe  conduct,  that  they 
might  come  over  to  make  their  excuses ;  and  the  king,  whose 
anger  was  somewhat  cooled,  granted  it  to  them. 

The  principal  persons  of  all  the  chief  towns  in  Flanders, 
except  those  of  Ghent,  came  into  England  about  Michaelmas. 
The  king  was  at  that  time  in  Westminster,  near  London.  They 
made  ver>'  fair  excuses,  and  swore  most  solemnly  that  "  they 
were  guiltless  of  the  murder  of  von  Artaveld,  which,  had  they 
suspected,  they  would  have  guarded  and  defended  him :  that 
they  were  exceedingly  vexed  at  his  loss,  and  regretted  it  most 
sincerely;  for  they  knew  how  kind  he  had  been  to  them,  how 
useful  he  was  in  all  their  affairs,  and  that  he  had  reigned  and 
governed  Flanders  most  wisely :  that  since  those  of  Ghent  had 
slain  him,  they  should  make  ample  amends  for  it."  They  also 
explained  to  the  king  and  his  council,  "  that  though  Jacob  von 
Artaveld  was  dead,  he  was  not  the  less  beloved,  or  less  in  the 
good  graces  of  the  Flemings,  save  and  except  in  the  investi- 
ture of  Flanders,  which  he  wished  to  be  taken  from  the  earl, 
their  natural  lord,  however  he  may  be  attached  to  the  French 
interest,  and  from  his  son,  their  lawful  heir,  to  give  it  to  the 
prince  of  Wales ;  for  the  Flemings  would  not,  on  any  account, 
listen  to  it.  But,  dear  sir,  you  have  a  fine  family  of  sons  and 
daughters;  the  prince  of  Wales,  your  eldest  son,  cannot  fail 
being  a  great  prince,  with  an  ample  inheritance,  without  desiring 
that  of  Flanders  :  and  you  have  also  a  young  daughter ;  we  have 
too  a  young  lord,  whom  we  are  bringing  up  and  taking  care  of, 
that  will  be  lord  of  Flanders :  it  perhaps  may  be,  that  a  marriage 


24  FROISSART. 

could  be  brought  about  between  them,  so  that  the  county  of 
Flanders  will  in  the  end  be  possessed  by  one  of  your  children." 
These  speeches  softened  very  much  the  anger  and  ill-will  of  the 
king  of  England;  and,  in  the  end,  both  he  and  the  Flemings 
were  equally  satisfied  with  each  other.  Thus,  by  degrees,  was 
the  death  of  Jacob  von  Artaveld  forgotten. 


THE   BATTLE   OF  CRECY. 

When  the  king  had  finished  his  business  in  Caen,  and  had 
sent  his  fleet  to  England,  loaded  with  cloths,  jewels,  gold  and 
silver  plate,  and  a  quantity  of  other  riches,  and  upwards  of  sixty 
knights,  with  three  hundred  able  citizens,  prisoners;  he  then 
left  his  quarters  and  continued  his  march  as  before,  his  two 
marshals  on  his  right  and  left,  burning  and  destroying  all  the 
flat  country.  He  took  the  road  to  Evreux,  but  found  he  could 
not  gain  anything  there,  as  it  was  well  fortified.  He  went  on  to- 
wards another  town  called  Louviers,  which  was  in  Normandy, 
and  where  there  were  many  manufactories  of  cloth :  it  was  rich 
and  commercial.  The  English  won  it  easily,  as  it  was  not 
enclosed;  and  having  entered  the  town,  it  was  plundered  with- 
out opposition.  They  collected  much  wealth  there ;  and,  after 
they  had  done  what  they  pleased,  they  marched  on  into  the 
county  of  Evreux,  where  they  burnt  everything  except  the 
fortified  towns  and  castles,  which  the  king  left  unattacked,  as 
he  was  desirous  of  sparing  his  men  and  artillery.  He  therefore 
made  for  the  banks  of  the  Seine,  in  his  approach  to  Rouen, 
where  there  were  plenty  of  men-at-arms  from  Normandy,  under 
the  command  of  the  earl  of  Harcourt,  brother  to  sir  Godfrey, 
and  the  earl  of  Dreux. 

The  English  did  not  march  direct  towards  Rouen,  but  went 
to  Gisors,  which  has  a  strong  castle,  and  burnt  the  town.  After 
this  they  destroyed  Vernon,  and  all  the  country  between  Rouen 
and  Pont-de-l'Arche:  they  then  came  to  Mantes  and  Meulan, 
which  they  treated  in  the  same  manner,  and  ravaged  all  the 
country  round  about.      They  passed  by  the  strong  castle  of 


FROJSSART.  25 

Roullcboise,  and  everywhere  found  the  bridges  on  the  Seine 
broken  down.  They  pushed  forward  until  they  came  to  Poissy, 
where  the  bridge  was  also  destroyed ;  but  the  beams  and  other 
parts  of  it  were  lying  in  the  river.  The  king  remained  here  five 
days,  whilst  they  were  repairing  the  bridge,  so  that  his  army 
might  pass  over  without  danger.  His  marshals  advanced  very 
near  to  Paris,  and  burnt  St.  Germain-en-Laye,  la  Montjoie,  St. 
Cloud,  Boulogne  near  Paris,  and  Bourg  la  Rcine.  The  Parisians 
were  much  alarmed,  for  Paris  at  that  time  was  not  enclosed. 
King  Philip  upon  this  began  to  stir,  and  having  ordered  all  the 
pent-houses  in  Paris  to  be  pulled  down,  went  to  St.  Denis, 
where  he  found  the  king  of  Bohemia,  the  lord  John  of  Hainault, 
the  duke  of  Lorraine,  the  earl  of  Flanders,  the  earl  of  Blois,  and 
great  multitudes  of  barons  and  knights,  ready  to  receive  him. 
When  the  Parisians  learnt  that  the  king  was  on  the  point  of 
quitting  Paris,  they  came  to  him,  and  falling  on  their  knees, 
said,  "  Ah,  sire,  and  noble  king,  what  are  you  about  to  do  ?  to 
leave  your  fine  city  of  Paris  ? "  The  king  replied :  "  My  good 
people,  do  not  be  afraid :  the  English  will  not  approach  you 
nearer  than  they  have  done."  He  thus  spoke  in  answer  to  what 
they  had  said,  that  "  our  enemies  are  only  two  leagues  off :  as 
soon  as  they  shall  know  you  have  quitted  us,  they  will  come 
hither  directly;  and  we  are  not  able  to  resist  them  ourselves, 
nor  shall  we  find  any  to  defend  us.  Have  the  kindness,  there- 
fore, sire,  to  remain  in  your  good  city  of  Paris,  to  take  care  of 
us."  The  king  replied,  "  I  am  going  to  St.  Denis,  to  my  army, 
for  I  am  impatient  to  pursue  the  English,  and  am  resolved  to 
fight  with  them  at  all  events." 

The  king  of  England  remained  at  the  nunner>'  of  Poissy  to  the 
middle  of  August,  and  celebrated  there  the  feast  of  the  Virgin 
Mary.  He  sat  at  table  in  his  scarlet  robes  without  sleeves, 
trimmed  with  furs  and  ermines.  He  afterwards  took  the  field, 
and  his  army  marched  as  before :  sir  Godfrey  de  Harcourt,  one 
of  his  marshals,  had  the  command  of  the  vanguard,  with  five 
hundred  men-at-arms,  and  about  thirteen  hundred  archers.  By 
accident,  he  fell  in  with  a  large  party  of  the  citizens  of  Amiens 
on  horseback,  who  were  going  to  king  Philip  at  Paris,  in  obedi- 


2  6  FROISSART. 

ence  to  his  summons.  He  immediately  attacked  them  with  those 
under  his  command ;  but  they  made  a  good  defence,  as  they 
were  very  numerous  and  well  armed,  and  had  four  knights  from 
Amiens  with  them.  The  engagement  lasted  a  long  time,  and 
many  were  slain  at  the  onset ;  but  at  last  those  from  Amiens 
were  overthrown,  killed,  or  taken  prisoners.  The  English  seized 
all  their  baggage  and  arms,  and  found  many  valuables  ;  for  they 
were  going  to  the  king  excellently  well  equipped,  and  had  but  just 
quitted  their  city.  Twelve  hundred  were  left  dead  on  the  spot. 
The  king  of  England  entered  the  country  of  Beauvais,  destroy- 
ing all  the  flat  country,  and  took  up  his  quarters  in  a  rich  abbey 
called  St.  Messien,  near  to  Beauvais,  where  he  lodged  one 
night.  The  morrow,  as  he  was  on  his  march,  he  by  chance 
turned  his  head  round  and  saw  the  abbey  all  in  flames ;  upon 
which  he  instantly  ordered  twenty  of  those  who  had  set  fire  to 
it  to  be  hung,  as  he  had  most  strictly  forbidden  that  any  church 
should  be  violated,  or  monastery  set  on  fire.  He  passed  near 
Beauvais  without  attacking  it,  for  he  was  anxious  to  be  as  careful 
of  his  men  and  artillery  as  possible,  and  took  up  his  quarters  at 
a  small  town  called  Milly.  The  two  marshals  passed  so  near  to 
Beauvais,  that  they  advanced  to  attack  it  and  skirmish  with  the 
townsmen  at  the  barriers,  and  divided  their  forces  into  three 
battalions ;  this  attack  lasted  until  the  afternoon  ;  for  the  town 
was  well  fortified  and  provided  with  everything,  and  the  bishop 
was  also  there,  whose  exertions  were  of  more  service  than  those 
of  all  the  rest.  When  the  English  found  they  could  not  gain  any- 
thing, they  set  fire  to  the  suburbs,  which  they  burnt  quite  close 
to  the  gates  of  the  town,  and  then  came,  towards  evening,  to 
where  the  king  was. 

The  next  day,  the  king  and  his  whole  army  marched  forward, 
burning  and  wasting  all  the  country  as  they  went,  and  lay  that 
night  at  a  village  called  Grandvillier.  On  the  morrow,  he  passed 
near  to  Argis;  his  scouts  not  finding  any  one  to  guard  the 
castle,  he  attacked  and  burnt  it,  and  passing  on,  destroyed  the 
country,  and  came  to  Poix,  which  was  a  handsome  town  with 
two  castles.  The  lords  of  both  were  absent,  and  no  one  was 
there  but  two  handsome  daughters  of  the  lord  of  Poix,  who 


FROISSART.  27 

would  have  been  soon  violated,  if  two  English  knights,  sir  John 
Chandos  and  lord  Basset,  had  not  defended  them.  In  order 
more  effectually  to  guard  them,  they  brought  them  to  the 
king,  who,  as  in  honour  bound,  entertained  them  most  gra- 
ciously; he  inquired  whither  they  would  wish  to  go?  they 
answered.  To  Corbie,  to  which  place  they  were  conducted  in 
safety.  The  king  of  England  lay  that  night  in  the  town  of  Poix. 
The  inhabitants  of  Poix,  as  well  as  those  of  the  castles,  had  a 
conference  with  the  marshals  of  the  army,  in  order  to  save  the 
town  from  being  plundered  and  burnt.  They  offered  to  pay,  as 
a  ransom,  a  certain  number  of  florins  the  ensuing  day,  as  soon 
as  the  army  should  have  marched  off.  On  the  morrow  morning, 
the  king  and  army  departed,  except  some  few,  who  remained 
behind,  by  orders  of  the  marshals,  to  receive  the  ransom  from 
the  townsmen.  When  the  inhabitants  were  assembled  together, 
and  considered  the  small  number  of  the  English  who  were  left 
with  them,  they  resolved  to  pay  nothing,  told  them  so,  and 
directly  fell  upon  them.  The  English  defended  themselves 
gallantly,  and  sent  after  the  army  for  succour.  When  lord 
Reginald  Cobham  and  sir  Thomas  Holland,  who  commanded 
the  rear-guard,  were  told  of  this,  they  cried  out,  "  Treason  ! 
treason  ! "  and  returned  back  to  Poix,  where  they  found  their 
countr)'men  still  engaged  with  the  townsmen.  Almost  all  the 
inhabitants  were  slain,  the  town  was  burnt,  and  the  two  castles 
razed  to  the  ground.  The  English  then  followed  the  king's 
army,  which  was  arrived  at  Airaines,  where  he  had  ordered  the 
troops  to  halt,  and  to  quarter  themselves  for  that  night,  strictly 
commanding,  under  pain  of  death,  that  no  harm  should  be  done 
to  the  town  or  inhabitants,  by  theft  or  otherwise ;  for  he  wished 
to  remain  there  a  day  or  two,  in  order  to  gain  information 
where  he  could  best  cross  the  river  Somme,  which  he  was  under 
the  necessity  of  doing,  as  you  w^ill  shortly  hear. 

I  wish  now  to  return  to  king  Philip,  whom  we  left  at  St.  Denis 
with  his  army,  which  was  increasing  every  day.  He  marched 
off  with  it,  and  pushed  forward  until  he  came  to  Coppigny  les 
Guises,  which  is  three  leagues  distant  from  Amiens,  where  he 
halted.     The  king  of  England,  who  was  still  at  Airaines,  was 


28  FROISSART. 

much  embarrassed  how  to  cross  the  Somme,  which  was  wide  and 
deep,  as  all  the  bridges  had  been  broken  down,  and  their  situa- 
tions were  well  guarded  by  men-at-arms.  The  two  marshals, 
at  the  request  of  the  king,  followed  the  course  of  the  river,  in 
order  if  possible  to  find  a  passage  for  the  army:  they  had  with 
them  a  thousand  men-at-arms  and  two  thousand  archers.  They 
passed  by  Lompre,  and  came  to  Pont  de  Remy,  which  they 
found  defended  by  numbers  of  knights,  squires,  and  people  of 
the  country.  The  English  dismounted,  and  attacked  the  French 
from  the  very  dawn  of  the  morning  until  near  ten  o'clock;  but 
the  bridge  was  so  well  fortified  and  guarded,  that  they  could 
not  gain  anything ;  so  they  departed,  and  went  to  a  large  town 
called  Fontaines-sur-Somme,  which  they  completely  plundered 
and  burnt,  as  it  was  quite  open.  They  next  came  to  another 
town,  called  Long,  in  Ponthieu ;  but  they  could  not  gain  the 
bridge,  so  well  was  it  guarded.  They  then  rode  on  to  Pecquigny, 
but  found  the  town,  castle,  and  bridge  so  well  garrisoned  that 
it  was  impossible  to  pass.  In  this  manner  had  the  king  of 
France  ordered  all  the  bridges  and  fords  of  the  river  Somme 
to  be  guarded,  to  prevent  the  king  of  England  from  crossing  it 
with  his  army;  for  he  was  resolved  to  force  them  to  fight  when 
he  should  see  the  most  favourable  opportunity,  or  else  to  starve 
them. 

The  two  marshals,  having  thus  in  vain  followed  the  course  of 
the  Somme,  returned  to  the  king  of  England,  and  related  to 
him  that  they  were  unable  to  find  a  passage  anywhere.  That 
same  evening,  the  king  of  France  took  up  his  quarters  at 
Amiens,  with  upwards  of  one  hundred  thousand  men.  The 
king  of  England  was  very  pensive;  he  ordered  mass  before 
sunrise,  and  his  trumpets  to  sound  for  decamping.  All  sorts 
of  people  followed  the  marshals'  banners,  according  to  the 
orders  the  king  had  issued  the  preceding  day;  and  they 
marched  through  the  country  of  Vimeu,  drawing  near  to  the 
good  town  of  Abbeville.  In  their  march,  they  came  to  a  town 
where  a  great  number  of  the  country  people  had  assembled, 
trusting  to  some  small  fortifications  which  were  thrown  up 
there;  but  the  English  conquered  the  town,   as  soon   as   they 


FROISSART. 


29 


came  to  it,  and  all  that  were  within.  Many  of  the  townsmen 
and  those  from  the  adjoining  country  were  slain  or  taken 
prisoners.     The  king  lodged,  that  night,  in  the  great  hospital. 

The  king  of  France  set  out  from  Amiens,  and  came  to 
Airaines  about  noon:  the  English  king  had  quitted  it  about  ten 
o'clock.  The  French  found  there  provisions  of  all  sorts ;  meat 
on  the  spits,  bread  and  pastry  in  the  ovens,  wine  in  barrels,  and 
even  some  tables  ready  spread,  for  the  English  had  left  it  in 
very  great  haste.  The  king  of  France  fixed  his  quarters  there, 
to  wait  for  his  nobles  and  their  retinue.  The  king  of  England 
was  in  the  town  of  Oisemont.  When  his  two  marshals  returned 
in  the  evening,  after  having  overrun  the  country  as  far  as  the 
gates  of  Abbeville,  and  to  St  Valery,  where  they  had  had  a 
smart  skirmish,  the  king  of  England  summoned  a  council,  and 
ordered  many  prisoners,  whom  his  people  had  made  in  the  dis- 
tricts of  Ponthieu  and  Vimeu,  to  be  brought  before  him. 

The  king,  most  courteously,  asked,  "  if  any  of  them  knew  a 
ford  below  Abbeville,  where  he  and  his  army  could  pass  without 
danger ; "  and  added,  "  Whoever  will  show  us  such  a  ford 
shall  have  his  liberty,  and  that  of  any  twenty  of  his  fellow- 
soldiers  whom  he  may  wish  to  select."  There  was  among 
them  a  common  fellow  whose  name  was  Gobin  Agace,  who 
answered  the  king,  and  said,  "  Sir,  I  promise  you,  under  peril 
of  my  life,  that  I  will  conduct  you  to  such  a  place,  where  you 
and  your  whole  army  may  pass  the  river  Somme  without  any 
risk.  There  are  certain  fordable  places  where  you  may  pass 
twelve  men  abreast  twice  in  the  day,  and  not  have  water  above 
your  knees ;  but  when  the  tide  is  in,  the  river  is  full  and  deep, 
and  no  one  can  cross  it ;  when  the  tide  is  out,  the  river  is  so  low 
that  it  may  be  passed,  on  horseback  or  on  foot,  without  danger. 
The  bottom  of  this  ford  is  very  hard,  of  gravel  and  white  stones, 
over  which  all  your  carriages  may  safely  pass,  and  from  thence 
is  called  Blanchetaque.  You  must  therefore  set  out  early,  so 
as  to  be  at  the  ford  before  sunrise."  "  Friend,"  replied  the  king, 
"  if  I  find  what  thou  has  just  said  to  be  true,  I  will  give  thee  and 
all  thy  companions  their  liberty;  and  I  will  besides  make  thee 
a  present  of  a  hundred  nobles."     The  king  gave  orders  for  every 


30  FROISSART. 

one  to  be  ready  to  march  at  the  first  sound  of  his  trumpet,  and 
to  proceed  forward. 

The  king  of  England  did  not  sleep  much  that  night,  but, 
rising  at  midnight,  ordered  his  trumpet  to  sound.  Very  soon 
everything  was  ready;  and,  the  baggage  being  loaded,  they  set 
out  from  the  town  of  Oisemont  about  daybreak,  and  rode  on, 
under  the  guidance  of  Gobin  Agace,  until  they  came  to  the  ford 
of  Blanchetaque,  about  sunrise ;  but  the  tide  was  at  that  time 
so  full  they  could  not  cross.  The  king,  however,  determined 
to  wait  there  for  those  of  his  army  who  were  not  yet  come  up ; 
and  he  remained  until  after  ten  o'clock,  when  the  tide  was  gone 
out.  The  king  of  France,  who  had  his  scouts  all  over  the 
country,  was  informed  of  the  situation  of  the  king  of  England : 
he  imagined  he  should  be  able  to  shut  him  up  between  Abbe- 
ville and  the  Somme,  and  thus  take  him  prisoner,  or  force  him 
to  fight  at  a  disadvantage.  From  the  time  of  his  arrival  at 
Amiens,  he  had  ordered  a  great  baron  of  Normandy,  called  sir 
Godemar  du  Fay,  to  guard  this  ford  of  Blanchetaque,  which  the 
English  must  cross,  and  nowhere  else.  Sir  Godemar  had  set  out, 
in  obedience  to  this  order,  and  had  with  him,  in  the  whole,  one 
thousand  men-at-arms  and  six  thousand  foot,  with  the  Genoese. 
He  had  passed  St.  Ricquier  in  Ponthieu,  and  from  thence  came 
to  Crotoy,  where  this  ford  was :  he  had  collected,  in  his  march, 
great  numbers  of  the  country  people.  The  townsmen  of  Abbe- 
ville had  also  accompanied  him,  excellently  well  appointed : 
they  had  arrived  at  the  passage  before  the  English.  They 
were,  in  all,  fully  twelve, thousand  men:  among  them  were  two 
thousand  who  had  jackets,  resembling  waggoner's  frocks,  called 
iorviqiiiaux. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  English  army,  sir  Godemar  du  Fay 
drew  up  his  men  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  to  defend  and  guard 
the  ford.  The  king  of  England,  however,  did  not  for  this  give 
up  his  intention  of  crossing;  but,  as  soon  as  the  tide  was  suffi- 
ciently gone  out,  he  ordered  his  marshals  to  dash  into  the  water, 
in  the  names  of  God  and  St.  George.  The  most  doughty  and 
the  best  mounted  leaped  in  first ;  and,  in  the  river,  the  engage- 
ment began :  many  on  both  sides  were  unhorsed  into  the  water : 


FROISSART. 


31 


there  were  some  knights  and  squires,  from  Artois  and  Picardy, 
in  the  pay  of  sir  Godemar,  who  in  hopes  of  preferment,  and 
to  acquire  honour,  had  posted  themselves  at  this  ford,  and  they 
appeared  to  be  equally  fond  of  tilting  in  the  water  as  upon  dry 
land. 

The  French  were  drawn  up  in  battle  array,  near  the  narrow 
pass  leading  to  the  ford ;  and  the  English  were  much  annoyed 
by  them  as  they  came  out  of  the  water  to  gain  the  land ;  for 
there  were  among  them  Genoese  cross-bowmen  who  did  them 
much  mischief.  On  the  other  hand,  the  English  archers  shot 
so  well  together  that  they  forced  the  men-at-arms  to  give  way. 
At  this  ford  of  Blanchetaque  many  gallant  feats  of  arms  were 
performed  on  each  side;  but,  in  the  end,  the  English  crossed 
over,  and,  as  they  came  on  shore,  hastened  to  the  fields.  After 
the  king,  the  prince,  and  the  other  lords  had  crossed,  the 
French  did  not  long  keep  in  the  order  they  were  in,  but  ran  off 
for  the  fastest.  When  sir  Godemar  du  Fay  found  his  army  was 
discomfited,  he  saved  himself  as  quickly  as  he  could,  and  many 
with  him ;  some  making  for  Abbeville,  others  for  St.  Ricquier. 
The  infantry,  however,  could  not  escape;  and  there  were 
numbers  of  those  from  Abbeville,  Arras,  Montreuil,  and  St. 
Ricquier,  slain  or  taken  prisoners:  the  pursuit  lasted  more  than 
a  league.  The  English  had  scarcely  gained  the  opposite  bank, 
when  some  of  the  light  horse  of  the  French  army,  particularly 
those  belonging  to  the  king  of  Bohemia  and  sir  John  of 
Hainault,  advanced  upon  the  rear,  took  from  them  some  horses 
and  accoutrements,  and  slew  several  on  the  bank  who  were  late 
in  crossing.  The  king  of  France  had  set  out  from  Airaines  that 
morning,  thinking  to  find  the  English  on  the  banks  of  the 
Somme;  when  news  was  brought  to  him  of  the  defeat  of  sir 
Godemar  and  his  army,  he  immediately  halted,  and  demanded 
from  his  marshals  what  was  to  be  done :  they  answered,  "  You 
can  only  cross  the  river  by  the  bridge  of  Abbeville,  for  the  tide 
is  now  in  at  Blanchetaque."  The  king  of  France  therefore 
turned  back,  and  took  up  his  quarters  at  Abbeville.  The  king 
of  England,  when  he  had  crossed  the  Somme,  gave  thanks  to 
God  for  it,  and  began  his  march  in  the  same  order  as  he  had 


32  FROISSART. 

done  before.  He  called  to  him  Gobin  Agace,  gave  him  his 
freedom  without  ransom,  as  well  as  that  of  his  companions,  and  3!( 
ordered  the  hundred  nobles  of  gold  to  be  given  him,  and  also  a  ''' 
good  horse.  The  king  continued  his  march,  thinking  to  take 
up  his  quarters  at  a  good  and  large  town  called  Noyelle,  situated  5 
hard  by;  but  when  he  was  informed  that  it  belonged  to  the 
countess  d'Aumarle,  sister  to  the  late  Robert  d'Artois,  he  sent 
to  assure  the  inhabitants,  as  well  as  all  the  farmers  belonging  to 
her,  that  they  should  not  be  hurt.  He  marched  further  on  ;  but 
his  two  marshals  rode  to  Crotoy,  near  the  sea;  they  took  the 
town,  and  burnt  it.  In  the  harbour  they  found  many  ships,  and 
other  vessels,  laden  with  wines,  from  Poitou,  Saintonge,  and  la 
Rochelle :  they  ordered  the  best  to  be  carried  to  the  English 
army:  then  one  of  the  marshals  pushed  forward,  even  as  far  as 
the  gates  of  Abbeville,  and  returned  by  St.  Ricquier,  following 
the  sea-shore  to  the  town  of  St.  Esprit  de  Rue. 

These  two  battalions  of  the  marshals  came,  on  a  Friday  in 
the  afternoon,  to  where  the  king  was;  and  they  fixed  their 
quarters,  all  three  together,  near  Crecy  in  Ponthieu.  The  king 
of  England,  who  had  been  informed  that  the  king  of  France 
was  following  him,  in  order  to  give  him  battle,  said  to  his 
people :  "  Let  us  post  ourselves  here ;  for  we  will  not  go  farther 
before  we  have  seen  our  enemies.  I  have  good  reason  to  wait  ! 
for  them  on  this  spot ;  as  I  am  now  upon  the  lawful  inheritance 
of  my  lady-mother,  which  was  given  her  as  her  marriage-portion  ; 
and  I  am  resolved  to  defend  it  against  my  adversary,  Philippe 
de  Valois."  On  account  of  his  not  having  more  than  an  eighth 
part  of  the  forces  which  the  king  of  France  had,  his  marshals 
fixed  upon  the  most  advantageous  situation ;  and  the  army  went 
and  took  possession  of  it.  He  then  sent  his  scouts  towards 
Abbeville,  to  learn  if  the  king  of  France  meant  to  take  the  field 
this  Friday ;  but  they  returned,  and  said  they  saw  no  appear- 
ance of  it;  upon  which,  he  dismissed  his  men  to  their  quarters, 
with  orders  to  be  in  readiness  by  times  in  the  morning,  and  to 
assemble  in  the  same  place.  The  king  of  France  remained  all 
Friday  in  Abbeville,  waiting  for  more  troops.  He  sent  his 
marshals,  the  lord  of  St.  Venant,  and  lord  Charles  of  Mont- 


FROISSART,  33 

morency,  out  of  Abbeville,  to  examine  the  country,  and  get 
some  certain  intelligence  of  the  English.  They  returned,  about 
vespers,  with  information  that  the  English  were  encamped  on 
the  plain.  That  night  the  king  of  France  entertained  at 
supper,  in  Abbeville,  all  the  princes  and  chief  lords.  There 
was  much  conversation  relative  to  war;  and  the  king  entreated 
them,  after  supper,  that  they  would  always  remain  in  friendship 
with  each  other;  that  they  would  be  friends  without  jealousy, 
and  courteous  without  pride.  The  king  was  still  expecting  the 
earl  of  Savoy,  who  ought  to  have  been  there  with  a  thousand 
lances,  as  he  had  been  well  paid  for  them  at  Troyes  in  Cham- 
pagne, three  months  in  advance. 

The  king  of  England,  as  I  have  mentioned  before,  encamped 
this  Friday  in  the  plain ;  for  he  found  the  country  abounding  in 
provisions ;  but,  if  they  should  have  failed,  he  had  plenty  in  the 
carriages  which  attended  on  him.  The  army  set  about  furbish- 
ing and  repairing  their  armour;  and  the  king  gave  a  supper 
that  evening  to  the  earls  and  barons  of  his  army,  where  they 
made  good  cheer.  On  their  taking  leave  the  king  remained 
alone,  with  the  lords  of  his  bed-chamber:  he  retired  into  his 
oratory,  and,  falling  on  his  knees  before  the  altar,  prayed  to 
God,  that  if  he  should  combat  his  enemies  on  the  morrow,  he 
might  come  off  with  honour.  About  midnight  he  went  to  his 
bed ;  and,  rising  early  the  next  day,  he  and  the  prince  of  Wales 
heard  mass  and  communicated.  The  greater  part  of  his  army 
did  the  same,  confessed,  and  made  proper  preparations.  After 
mass  the  king  ordered  his  men  to  arm  themselves,  and  assemble 
on  the  ground  he  had  before  fixed  on.  He  had  enclosed  a  large 
park  near  a  wood,  on  the  rear  of  his  army,  in  which  he  placed 
all  his  baggage-waggons  and  horses;  and  this  park  had  but  one 
entrance:  his  men-at-arms  and  archers  remained  on  foot. 

The  king  afterwards  ordered,  through  his  constable  and  his 
two  marshals,  that  the  army  should  be  divided  into  three 
battalions.  In  the  first  he  placed  the  young  prince  of  Wales, 
and  with  him  the  earls  of  Warwick  and  Oxford,  sir  Godfrey  de 
Harcourt,  the  lord  Reginald  Cobham,  lord  Thomas  Holland, 
lord  Staftbrd,  lord  Mauley,  the  lord  Delaware,  sir  John  Chandos, 

3 


34  FRO  I SS ART. 

lord  Bartholomew  Burgherst,  lord  Robert  Neville,  lord  Thomas 
Clifford,  the  lord  Bourchier,  the  lord  Latimer,  and  many  other 
knights  and  squires  whom  I  cannot  name.  There  might  be,  in 
this  first  division,  about  eight  hundred  men-at-arms,  two  thou- 
sand archers,  and  a  thousand  Welshmen.  They  advanced  in 
regular  order  to  their  ground,  each  lord  under  his  banner  and 
pennon,  and  in  the  centre  of  his  men.  In  the  second  battalion 
were  the  earl  of  Northampton,  the  earl  of  Arundel,  the  lords 
Roos,  Willoughby,  Basset,  Saint  Albans,  sir  Lewis  Tufton,  lord 
Multon,  the  lord  Lascels,  and  many  others ;  amounting,  in  the 
whole,  to  about  eight  hundred  men-at-arms,  and  twelve  hundred 
archers.  The  third  battalion  was  commanded  by  the  king,  and 
was  composed  of  about  seven  hundred  men-at-arms,  and  two 
thousand  archers. 

The  king  then  mounted  a  small  palfrey,  having  a  white  wand 
in  his  hand,  and  attended  by  his  two  marshals  on  each  side  of 
him ;  he  rode  a  foot's  pace  through  all  the  ranks,  encouraging 
and  entreating  the  army  that  they  would  guard  his  honour  and 
defend  his  right.  He  spoke  this  so  sweetly,  and  with  such  a 
cheerful  countenance,  that  all  who  had  been  dispirited  were 
directly  comforted  by  seeing  and  hearing  him.  When  he  had 
thus  visited  all  the  battalions,  it  was  near  ten  o'clock;  he  retired 
to  his  own  division,  and  ordered  them  all  to  eat  heartily,  and 
drink  a  glass  after.  They  ate  and  drank  at  their  ease;  and, 
having  packed  up  pots,  barrels,  etc.,  in  the  carts,  they  returned 
to  their  battalions,  according  to  the  marshal's  orders,  and  seated 
themselves  on  the  ground,  placing  their  helmets  and  bows 
before  them,  that  they  might  be  the  fresher  when  their  enemies 
should  arrive. 

That  same  Saturday  the  king  of  France  rose  betimes,  and 
heard  mass  in  the  monastery  of  St.  Peter's  in  Abbeville,  where 
he  was  lodged ;  having  ordered  his  army  to  do  the  same,  he  left 
that  town  after  sunrise.  When  he  had  marched  about  two 
leagues  from  Abbeville,  and  was  approaching  the  enemy,  he 
was  advised  to  form  his  army  in  order  of  battle,  and  to  let  those 
on  foot  march  forward,  that  they  might  not  be  trampled  on  by 
the  horses.     The  king  upon  this  sent  off  four  knights,  the  lord 


FROISSART.  35 

Moyne  of  Bastleberg,  the  lord  of  Noycrs,  the  lord  of  Beaujeu, 
and  the  lord  of  Aubigny,  who  rode  so  near  to  the  English  that 
they  could  clearly  distinguish  their  position.  The  English 
plainly  perceived  they  were  come  to  reconnoitre  them ;  how- 
ever, they  took  no  notice  of  it,  but  suffered  them  to  return 
unmolested.  When  the  king  of  France  saw  them  coming 
back,  he  halted  his  army;  and  the  knights,  pushing  through 
the  crowds,  came  near  the  king,  who  said  to  them,  "  My  lords, 
what  news.'"'  They  looked  at  each  other  without  opening  their 
mouths ;  for  neither  chose  to  speak  first.  At  last  the  king 
addressed  himself  to  the  lord  Moyne,  who  was  attached  to  the 
king  of  Bohemia,  and  had  performed  very  many  gallant  deeds, 
so  that  he  was  esteemed  one  of  the  most  valiant  knights  in 
Christendom.  The  lord  Moyne  said,  "  Sir,  I  will  speak,  since 
it  pleases  you  to  order  me,  but  under  the  correction  of  my 
companions.  We  have  advanced  far  enough  to  reconnoitre 
your  enemies.  Know,  then,  that  they  are  drawn  up  in  three 
battalions,  and  are  waiting  for  you.  I  would  advise,  for  my 
part  (submitting,  however,  to  better  counsel),  that  you  halt 
your  army  here,  and  quarter  them  for  the  night;  for  before 
the  rear  shall  come  up,  and  the  army  be  properly  drawn  out, 
it  will  be  very  late,  your  men  will  be  tired  and  in  disorder, 
whilst  they  will  find  your  enemies  fresh  and  properly  arrayed. 
On  the  morrow,  you  may  draw  up  your  army  more  at  your  ease, 
and  may  reconnoitre  at  leisure  on  what  part  it  will  be  most 
advantageous  to  begin  the  attack ;  for  be  assured  they  will  wait 
for  you."  The  king  commanded  that  it  should  so  be  done ;  and 
the  two  marshals  rode,  one  towards  the  front,  and  the  other  to 
the  rear,  crying  out,  "  Halt  banners,  in  the  name  of  God  and  St. 
Denis."  Those  that  were  in  the  front  halted;  but  those  behind 
said  they  would  not  halt  until  they  were  as  forward  as  the 
front.  When  the  front  perceived  the  rear  pressing  on,  they 
pushed  forward;  and  neither  the  king  nor  the  marshals  could 
stop  them,  but  they  marched  on  without  any  order  until  they 
came  in  sight  of  their  enemies.  As  soon  as  the  foremost  rank 
saw  them,  they  fell  back  at  once,  in  great  disorder,  which 
alarmed  those  in  the  rear,  who  thought  they  had  been  fighting. 


36  FRO  I SS  ART. 

There  was  then  space  and  room  enough  for  them  to  have 
passed  forward,  had  they  been  wiUing  so  to  do ;  some  did  so, 
but  others  remained  shy.  All  the  roads  between  Abbeville  and 
Crecy  were  covered  with  common  people,  who,  when  they  were 
come  within  three  leagues  of  their  enemies,  drew  their  swords, 
bawling  out,  "  Kill,  kill";  and  with  them  were  many  great  lords 
that  were  eager  to  make  show  of  their  courage.  There  is  no 
man,  unless  he  had  been  present,  that  can  imagine,  or  describe 
truly,  the  confusion  of  that  day ;  especially  the  bad  management 
and  disorder  of  the  French,  whose  troops  were  out  of  number. 
What  I  know,  and  shall  relate  in  this  book,  I  have  learnt  chiefly 
*  from  the  English,  who  had  well  observed  the  confusion  they 
were  in,  and  from  those  attached  to  sir  John  of  Hainault,  who 
was  always  near  the  person  of  the  king  of  France. 

The  English,  who  were  drawn  up  in  three  divisions,  and 
seated  on  the  ground,  on  seeing  their  enemies  advance  rose 
undauntedly  up,  and  fell  into  their  ranks.  That  of  the  prince 
was  the  first  to  do  so,  whose  archers  were  formed  in  the  manner 
of  a  portcullis,  or  harrow,  and  the  men-at-arms  in  the  rear.  The 
earls  of  Northampton  and  Arundel,  who  commanded  the  second 
division,  had  posted  themselves  in  good  order  on  his  wing,  to 
assist  and  succour  the  prince  if  necessary. 

You  must  know  that  these  kings,  earls,  barons,  and  lords  of 
France  did  not  advance  in  any  regular  order,  but  one  after  the 
other,  or  any  way  most  pleasing  to  themselves.  As  soon  as  the 
king  of  France  came  in  sight  of  the  English,  his  blood  began  to 
boil,  and  he  cried  out  to  his  marshals,  "Order  the  Genoese 
forward,  and  begin  the  battle,  in  the  name  of  God  and  St. 
Denis."  There  were  about  fifteen  thousand  Genoese  cross- 
bowmen  ;  but  they  were  quite  fatigued,  having  marched  on  foot 
that  day  six  leagues,  completely  armed,  and  with  their  cross- 
bows. They  told  the  constable  they  were  not  in  a  fit  condition 
to  do  any  great  things  that  day  in  battle.  The  earl  of  Alengon, 
hearing  this,  said,  "This  is  what  one  gets  by  employing  such 
scoundrels,  who  fall  off  when  there  is  any  need  for  them." 
During  this  time  a  heavy  rain  fell,  accompanied  by  thunder 
and  a  very  terrible  eclipse  of  the  sun ;  and  before  this  rain  a 


FROISSART.  37 

great  flight  of  crows  hovered  in  the  air  over  all  those  battalions, 
making  a  loud  noise.  Shortly  afterwards  it  cleared  up,  and  the 
sun  shone  very  bright;  but  the  Frenchmen  had  it  in  their  faces, 
and  the  English  in  their  backs.  When  the  Genoese  were  some- 
what in  order,  and  approached  the  English,  they  set  up  a  loud 
shout,  in  order  to  frighten  them ;  but  they  remained  quite  still, 
and  did  not  seem  to  attend  to  it.  They  then  set  up  a  second 
shout,  and  advanced  a  little  forward;  but  the  English  never 
moved.  They  hooted  a  third  time,  advancing  with  their  cross- 
bows presented,  and  began  to  shoot.  The  English  archers  then 
advanced  one  step  forward,  and  shot  their  arrows  with  such 
force  and  quickness,  that  it  seemed  as  if  it  snowed.  When  the 
Genoese  felt  these  arrows,  which  pierced  their  arms,  heads,  and 
through  their  armour,  some  of  them  cut  the  strings  of  their 
cross-bows,  others  flung  them  on  the  ground,  and  all  turned 
about  and  retreated,  quite  discomfited.  The  French  had  a 
large  body  of  men-at-arms  on  horseback,  richly  dressed,  to 
support  the  Genoese.  The  king  of  France,  seeing  them  thus 
fall  back,  cried  out,  "  Kill  me  those  scoundrels ;  for  they  stop 
up  our  road,  without  any  reason."  You  would  then  have  seen 
the  above-mentioned  men-at-arms  lay  about  them,  killing  all 
they  could  of  these  runaways. 

The  English  continued  shooting  as  vigorously  and  quickly  as 
before  ;  some  of  their  arrows  fell  among  the  horsemen,  who 
were  sumptuously  equipped,  and,  killing  and  wounding  many, 
made  them  caper  and  fall  among  the  Genoese,  so  that  they 
were  in  such  confusion  they  could  never  rally  again.  In  the 
English  army  there  were  some  Cornish  and  Welshmen  on  foot, 
who  had  armed  themselves  with  large  knives ;  these,  advancing 
through  the  ranks  of  the  men-at-arms  and  archers,  who  made 
way  for  them,  came  upon  the  French  when  they  were  in  this 
danger,  and,  falling  upon  earls,  barons,  knights,  and  squires, 
slew  many,  at  which  the  king  of  England  was  afterwards  much 
exasperated.  The  valiant  king  of  Bohemia  was  slain  there. 
He  was  called  Charles  of  Luxembourg ;  for  he  was  the  son  of 
the  gallant  king  and  emperor,  Henry  of  Luxembourg:  having 
heard  the  order  of  the  battle,  he  inquired  where  his  son,  the  lord 


38  FROISSART, 

Charles,  was ;  his  attendants  answered  that  they  did  not  know, 
but  believed  he  was  fighting.  The  king  said  to  them,  "  Gentle- 
men, you  are  all  my  people,  my  friends,  and  brethren-at-arms 
this  day :  therefore,  as  I  am  blind,  I  request  of  you  to  lead  me 
so  far  into  the  engagement  that  I  may  strike  one  stroke  with 
my  sword."  The  knights  replied  they  would  directly  lead  him 
forward;  and  in  order  that  they  might  not  lose  him  in  the 
crowd,  they  fastened  all  the  reins  of  their  horses  together,  and 
put  the  king  at  their  head,  that  he  might  gratify  his  wish,  and 
advanced  towards  the  enemy.  The  lord  Charles  of  Bohemia, 
who  already  signed  his  name  as  king  of  Germany,  and  bore  the 
arms,  had  come  in  good  order  to  the  engagement ;  but  when  he 
perceived  that  it  was  likely  to  turn  out  against  the  French  he 
departed,  and  I  do  not  well  know  what  road  he  took.  The 
king,  his  father,  had  rode  in  among  the  enemy,  and  made  good 
use  of  his  sword ;  for  he  and  his  companions  had  fought  most 
gallantly.  They  had  advanced  so  far  that  they  were  all  slain; 
and  on  the  morrow  they  were  found  on  the  ground,  with  their 
horses  all  tied  together. 

The  earl  of  Alengon  advanced  in  regular  order  upon  the 
English,  to  fight  with  them;  as  did  the  earl  of  Flanders,  in 
another  part.  These  two  lords,  with  their  detachments,  coast- 
ing as  it  were  the  archers,  came  to  the  prince's  battalion,  where 
they  fought  valiantly  for  a  length  of  time.  The  king  of  France 
was  eager  to  march  to  the  place  where  he  saw  their  banners 
displayed,  but  there  was  a  hedge  of  archers  before  him.  He 
had  that  day  made  a  present  of  a  handsome  black  horse  to 
sir  John  of  Hainault,  who  had  mounted  on  it  a  knight  of  his 
called  sir  John  de  Fuselles,  that  bore  his  banner;  which  horse 
ran  off  with  him,  and  forced  his  way  through  the  English  army, 
and,  when  about  to  return,  stumbled  and  fell  into  a  ditch  and 
severely  wounded  him ;  he  would  have  been  dead  if  his  page 
had  not  followed  him  round  the  battalions,  and  found  him 
unable  to  rise ;  he  had  not,  however,  any  other  hindrance  than 
from  his  horse,  for  the  English  did  not  quit  the  ranks  that  day 
to  make  prisoners.  The  page  alighted,  and  raised  him  up ;  but 
he  did  not  return  the  way  he  came,  as  he  would  have  found  it 


FROISSART.  39 

difficult  from  the  crowd.  This  battle,  which  was  fought  on  the 
Saturday  between  la  Broyes  and  Crecy,  was  very  murderous 
and  cruel;  and  many  gallant  deeds  of  arms  were  performed 
that  were  never  known.  Towards  evening,  many  knights  and 
squires  of  the  French  had  lost  their  masters  ;  they  wandered  up 
and  down  the  plain,  attacking  the  English  in  small  parlies; 
they  were  soon  destroyed,  for  the  English  had  determined  that 
day  to  give  no  quarter  or  hear  of  ransom  from  any  one. 

Early  in  the  day  some  French,  Germans,  and  Savoyards  had 
broken  through  the  archers  of  the  prince's  battalion,  and  had 
engaged  with  the  men-at-arms ;  upon  which  the  second  battalion 
came  to  his  aid,  and  it  was  time,  for  otherwise  he  would  have 
been  hard  pressed.  The  first  division,  seeing  the  danger  they 
were  in,  sent  a  knight  in  great  haste  to  the  king  of  England, 
who  was  posted  upon  an  eminence,  near  si  windmill.  On  the 
knight's  arrival,  he  said,  "Sir,  the  earl  of  Warwick,  the  lord 
Stafford,  the  lord  Reginald  Cobham,  and  the  others  who  are 
about  your  son,  are  vigorously  attacked  by  the  French;  and 
they  entreat  that  you  would  come  to  their  assistance  with  your 
battalion,  for,  if  their  numbers  should  increase,  they  fear  he  will 
have  too  much  to  do."  The  king  replied,  "  Is  my  son  dead, 
unhorsed,  or  so  badly  wounded  that  he  cannot  support  him- 
self?" "Nothing  of  the  sort,  thank  God,"  rejoined  the  knight; 
"  but  he  is  in  so  hot  an  engagement  that  he  has  great  need  of 
your  help."  The  king  answered,  "  Now,  sir  Thomas,  return 
back  to  those  that  sent  you,  and  tell  them  from  me,  not  to  send 
again  for  me  this  day,  or  expect  that  I  shall  come,  let  what  will 
happen,  as  long  as  my  son  has  life ;  and  say  that  I  command 
them  to  let  the  boy  win  his  spurs ;  for  I  am  determined,  if  it 
please  God,  that  all  the  glory  and  honour  of  this  day  shall  be 
given  to  him,  and  to  those  into  whose  care  I  have  entrusted 
him."  The  knight  returned  to  his  lords,  and  related  the  king's 
answer,  which  mightily  encouraged  them,  and  made  them  repent 
they  had  ever  sent  such  a  message. 

It  is  a  certain  fact,  that  sir  Godfrey  de  Harcourt,  who  was  in 
the  prince's  battalion,  having  been  told  by  some  of  the  English 
that  they  had  seen  the  banner  of  his  brother  engaged  in  the 


4©  FROISSART. 

battle  against  him,  was  exceedingly  anxious  to  save  him ;  but 
he  was  too  late,  for  he  was  left  dead  on  the  field,  and  so  was  the 
earl  of  Aumarle,  his  nephew.  On  the  other  hand,  the  earls  of 
AlenQon  and  P'landers  were  fighting  lustily  under  their  banners, 
and  with  their  own  people;  but  they  could  not  resist  the  force  of 
the  English,  and  were  there  slain,  as  well  as  many  other  knights 
and  squires  that  were  attending  on  or  accompanying  them. 
The  earl  of  Blois,  nephew  to  the  king  of  France,  and  the  duke 
of  Lorraine,  his  brother-in-law,  with  their  troops,  made  a  gallant 
defence;  but  they  were  surrounded  by  a  troop  of  English  and 
Welsh,  and  slain  in  spite  of  their  prowess.  The  earl  of  St.  Pol 
and  the  earl  of  Auxerre  were  also  killed,  as  well  as  many  others. 
Late  after  vespers,  the  king  of  France  had  not  more  about  him 
than  sixty  men,  every  one  included.  Sir  John  of  Hainault,  who 
was  of  he  number,  had  once  remounted  the  king ;  for  his  horse 
had  been  killed  under  him  by  an  arrow :  he  said  to  the  king, 
"  Sir,  retreat  whilst  you  have  an  opportunity,  and  do  not  expose 
yourself  so  simply:  if  you  have  lost  this  battle,  another  time  you 
will  be  the  conqueror."  After  he  had  said  this,  he  took  the 
bridle  of  the  king's  horse,  and  led  him  off  by  force ;  for  he  had 
before  entreated  of  him  to  retire.  The  king  rode  on  until  he 
came  to  the  castle  of  la  Broyes,  where  he  found  the  gates  shut, 
for  it  was  very  dark.  The  king  ordered  the  governor  of  it  to  be 
summoned :  he  came  upon  the  battlements,  and  asked  who  it 
was  that  called  at  such  an  hour .?  The  king  answered,  "  Open, 
open,  governor;  it  is  the  fortune  of  France."  The  governor, 
hearing  the  king's  voice,  immediately  descended,  opened  the 
gate,  and  let  down  the  bridge.  The  king  and  his  company 
entered  the  castle;  but  he  had  only  with  him  five  barons,  sir 
John  of  Hainault,  the  lord  Charles  of  Montmorency,  the  lord  of 
Beaujeu,  the  lord  of  Aubigny,  and  the  lord  of  iMontfort.  The  king 
would  not  bury  himself  in  such  a  place  as  that,  but,  having  taken 
some  refreshments,  set  out  again  with  his  attendants  about  mid- 
night, and  rode  on,  under  the  direction  of  guides  who  were  well 
acquainted  with  the  country,  until,  about  daybreak,  he  came  to 
Amiens,  where  he  halted.  This  Saturday  the  English  never 
quitted  their  ranks  in  pursuit  of  any  one,  but  remained  on  the 


FROISSART.  41 

field,  guarding  their  position,  and  defending  themselves  against 
all  who  attacked  them.  The  battle  was  ended  at  the  hour  of 
vespers. 

When,  on  this  Saturday  night,  the  English  heard  no  more 
hooting  or  shouting,  nor  any  more  crying  out  to  particular 
lords  or  their  banners,  they  looked  upon  the  field  as  their  own, 
and  their  enemies  as  beaten.  They  made  great  fires,  and 
lighted  torches  because  of  the  obscurity  of  the  night.  King 
Edward  then  came  down  from  his  post,  who  all  that  day  had 
not  put  on  his  helmet,  and,  with  his  whole  battalion,  advanced 
to  the  prince  of  Wales,  whom  he  embraced  in  his  arms  and 
kissed,  and  said,  "  Sweet  son,  God  give  you  good  perseverance : 
you  are  my  son,  for  most  loyally  have  you  acquitted  yourself 
this  day :  you  are  worthy  to  be  a  sovereign."  The  prince  bowed 
down  very  low,  and  humbled  himself,  giving  all  honour  to  the 
king  his  father.  The  English,  during  the  night,  made  frequent 
thanksgivings  to  the  Lord,  for  the  happy  issue  of  the  day,  and 
without  rioting;  for  the  king  had  forbidden  all  riot  or  noise. 
On  the  Sunday  morning,  there  was  so  great  a  fog  that  one  could 
scarcely  see  the  distance  of  half  an  acre.  The  king  ordered  a 
detachment  from  the  army,  under  the  command  of  the  two 
marshals,  consisting  of  about  five  hundred  lances  and  two 
thousand  archers,  to  make  an  excursion,  and  see  if  there  were 
any  bodies  of  French  collected  together.  The  quota  of  troops, 
from  Rouen  and  Beauvais,  had,  this  Sunday  morning,  left 
Abbeville  and  St.  Ricquier  in  Ponthieu,  to  join  the  French 
army,  and  were  ignorant  of  the  defeat  of  the  preceding  evening : 
they  met  this  detachment,  and,  thinking  they  must  be  French, 
hastened  to  join  them. 

As  soon  as  the  English  found  who  they  were,  they  fell  upon 
them ;  and  there  was  a  sharp  engagement ;  but  the  French  soon 
turned  their  backs,  and  fled  in  great  disorder.  There  were  slain 
in  this  flight  in  the  open  fields,  under  hedges  and  bushes,  up- 
wards of  seven  thousand ;  and  had  it  been  clear  weather,  not 
one  soul  would  have  escaped. 

A  little  time  afterwards,  this  same  party  fell  in  with  the  arch- 
bishop of  Rouen  and  the  great  prior  of  France,  who  were  also 


43  FROJSSART, 

ignorant  of  the  discomfiture  of  the  French ;  for  they  had  been 
informed  that  the  king  was  not  to  fight  before  Sunday.  Here 
began  a  fresh  battle :  for  those  two  lords  were  well  attended 
by  good  men-at-arms :  however,  they  could  not  withstand  the 
English,  but  were  almost  all  slain,  with  the  two  chiefs  who  com- 
manded them;  very  few  escaping.  In  the  course  of  the  morning, 
the  English  found  many  Frenchmen  who  had  lost  their  road  on 
the  Saturday,  and  had  lain  in  the  open  fields,  not  knowing  what 
was  become  of  the  king,  or  their  own  leaders.  The  English 
put  to  the  sword  all  they  met :  and  it  has  been  assured  to  me 
for  fact,  that  of  foot  soldiers,  sent  from  the  cities,  towns,  and 
municipalities,  there  were  slain,  this  Sunday  morning,  four  times 
as  many  as  in  the  battle  of  the  Saturday. 

This  detachment,  which  had  been  sent  to  look  after  the 
French,  returned  as  the  king  was  coming  from  mass,  and  related 
to  him  all  that  they  had  seen  and  met  with.  After  he  had  been 
assured  by  them  that  there  was  not  any  appearance  of  the 
French  collecting  another  army,  he  sent  to  have  the  numbers 
and  condition  of  the  dead  examined. 

He  ordered  on  this  business,  lord  Reginald  Cobham,  lord 
Stafford,  and  three  heralds  to  examine  their  arms,  and  two 
secretaries  to  write  down  all  the  names.  They  took  much  pains 
to  examine  all  the  dead,  and  were  the  whole  day  in  the  field  of 
battle,  not  returning  but  just  as  the  king  was  sitting  down  to 
supper.  They  made  to  him  a  very  circumstantial  report  of  all 
they  had  observed,  and  said  they  had  found  eighty  banners,  the 
bodies  of  eleven  princes,  twelve  hundred  knights,  and  about 
thirty  thousand  common  men. 

The  English  halted  there  that  day,  and  on  the  Monday  morn- 
ing prepared  to  march  off.  The  king  ordered  the  bodies  of  the 
principal  knights  to  be  taken  from  the  ground,  and  carried  to 
the  monastery  of  Montenay,  which  was  hard  by,  there  to  be  in- 
terred in  consecrated  ground.  He  had  it  proclaimed  in  the 
neighbourhood  that  he  should  grant  a  truce  for  three  days,  in 
order  that  the  dead  might  be  buried.  He  then  marched  on, 
passing  by  Montreuil-sur-mer. 


FROISSART.  43 

THE  TOWN    OF   CALAIS   SURRENDERS   TO   THE   KING   OF 
ENGLAND. 

After  the  departure  of  the  king  of  France,  with  his  army,  from 
the  hill  of  Sangate,  the  Calesians  saw  clearly  that  all  hopes  of 
succour  were  at  an  end  ;  which  occasioned  them  so  much  sorrow 
and  distress,  that  the  hardiest  could  scarcely  support  it.  They 
entreated,  therefore,  most  earnestly,  the  lord  John  de  Vienne, 
their  governor,  to  mount  upon  the  battlements,  and  make  a  sign 
that  he  wished  to  hold  a  parley.  The  king  of  England,  upon 
hearing  this,  sent  to  him  sir  Walter  Manny  and  lord  Basset. 
When  they  were  come  near,  the  lord  de  Vienne  said  to  them, 
"  Dear  gentlemen,  you  who  are  very  valiant  knights,  know  that 
the  king  of  France,  whose  subjects  we  are,  has  sent  us  hither  to 
defend  this  town  and  castle  from  all  harm  and  damage :  this  we 
have  done  to  the  best  of  our  abilities.  All  hopes  of  help  have 
now  left  us,  so  that  we  are  most  exceedingly  straitened ;  and  if 
the  gallant  king,  your  lord,  have  not  pity  upon  us,  we  must  perish 
with  hunger.  I  therefore  entreat  that  you  would  beg  of  him 
to  have  compassion  on  us,  and  to  have  the  goodness  to  allow  us 
to  depart  in  the  state  we  are  in,  and  that  he  will  be  satisfied 
with  having  possession  of  the  town  and  castle,  with  all  that  is 
within  them,  as  he  will  find  therein  riches  enough  to  content 
him."  To  this  sir  Walter  Manny  replied :  "  John,  we  are  not 
ignorant  of  what  the  king  our  lord's  intentions  are;  for  he  has 
told  them  to  us :  know  then,  that  it  is  not  his  pleasure  you 
should  get  off  so ;  for  he  is  resolved  that  you  surrender  your- 
selves solely  to  his  will,  to  allow  those  whom  he  pleases  their 
ransom,  or  to  put  them  to  death ;  for  the  Calesians  have  done 
him  so  much  mischief,  and  have,  by  their  obstinate  defence, 
cost  him  so  many  lives  and  so  much  money,  that  he  is  mightily 
enraged."  The  lord  de  Vienne  answered:  "These  conditions 
are  too  hard  for  us.  We  are  but  a  small  number  of  knights 
and  squires,  who  have  loyally  served  our  lord  and  master,  as  you 
would  have  done,  and  have  suffered  much  ill  and  disquiet ;  but 
we  will  endure  more  than  any  men  ever  did  in  a  sisiilar  situa- 
tion, before  we  consent  that  the  smallest  boy  in  the  town  should 


44  FROISSART. 

fare  worse  than  the  best.  I  therefore  once  more  entreat  you, 
out  of  compassion,  to  return  to  the  king  of  England,  and  beg  of 
him  to  have  pity  on  us:  he  will,  I  trust,  grant  you  this  favour: 
for  I  have  such  an  opinion  of  his  gallantry  as  to  hope  that, 
through  God's  mercy,  he  will  alter  his  mind."  The  two  lords 
returned  to  the  king,  and  related  what  had  passed.  The  king  said 
he  had  no  intentions  of  complying  with  the  request,  but  should  in- 
sist that  they  surrendered  themselves  unconditionally  to  his  will. 
Sir  Walter  replied:  "My  lord,  you  may  be  to  blame  in  this,  as 
you  will  set  us  a  very  bad  example ;  for  if  you  order  us  to  go 
to  any  of  your  castles,  we  shall  not  obey  you  so  cheerfully,  if 
you  put  these  people  to  death ;  for  they  will  retaliate  upon  us, 
in  a  similar  case."  Many  barons  who  were  then  present  sup- 
ported this  opinion.  Upon  which  the  king  replied:  "Gentlemen, 
I  am  not  so  obstinate  as  to  hold  my  opinion  alone  against  you 
all :  sir  Walter,  you  will  inform  the  governor  of  Calais,  that  the 
only  grace  he  must  expect  from  me  is,  that  six  of  the  principal 
citizens  of  Calais  march  out  of  the  town,  with  bare  heads  and 
feet,  with  ropes  round  their  necks,  and  the  keys  of  the  town 
and  castle  in  their  hands.  These  six  persons  shall  be  at 
my  absolute  disposal,  and  the  remainder  of  the  inhabitants 
pardoned." 

Sir  Walter  returned  to  the  lord  de  Vienne,  who  was  waiting 
for  him  on  the  battlements,  and  told  him  all  that  he  had  been 
able  to  gain  from  the  king.  "  I  beg  of  you,"  replied  the 
governor,  "  that  you  would  be  so  good  as  to  remain  here  a 
little,  while  I  go  and  relate  all  that  has  passed  to  the  townsmen ; 
for,  as  they  have  desired  me  to  undertake  this,  it  is  but  proper 
they  should  know  the  result  of  it."  He  went  to  the  market- 
place, and  caused  the  bell  to  be  rung;  upon  which  all  the 
inhabitants,  men  and  women,  assembled  in  the  town  hall.  He 
then  related  to  them  what  he  had  said,  and  the  answers  he  had 
received;  and  that  he  could  not  obtain  any  conditions  more 
favourable,  to  which  they  must  give  a  short  and  immediate 
answer.  This  information  caused  the  greatest  lamentations 
and  despair ;  so  that  the  hardest  heart  would  have  had  com- 
passion on  them ;  even  the  lord  de  Vienne  wept  bitterly. 


FROISSART  45 

After  a  short  time,  the  most  wealthy  citizen  of  the  town,  by 
name  Eustace  de  St.  Pierre,  rose  up  and  said:  "Gentlemen, 
both  high  and  low,  it  would  be  a  very  great  pity  to  suffer  so 
many  people  to  die  through  famine,  if  any  means  could  be  found 
to  prevent  it;  and  it  would  be  highly  meritorious  in  the  eyes  of 
our  Saviour,  if  such  misery  could  be  averted.  1  have  such  faith 
and  trust  in  finding  grace  before  God,  if  I  die  to  save  my  towns- 
men, that  I  name  myself  as  first  of  the  six."  When  Eustace 
had  done  speaking,  they  all  rose  up  and  almost  worshipped 
him :  many  cast  themselves  at  his  feet  with  tears  and  groans. 
Another  citizen,  very  rich  and  respected,  rose  up  and  said,  he 
would  be  the  second  to  his  companion,  Eustace ;  his  name  was 
John  Daire.  After  him,  James  Wisant,  who  was  very  rich  in 
merchandise  and  lands,  offered  himself,  as  companion  to  his 
two  cousins;  as  did  Peter  Wisant,  his  brother.  Two  others 
then  named  themselves,  which  completed  the  number  demanded 
by  the  king  of  England.  The  lord  John  de  Vienne  then 
mounted  a  small  hackney,  for  it  was  with  difficulty  that  he 
could  walk,  and  conducted  them  to  the  gate.  There  was  the 
greatest  sorrow  and  lamentation  all  over  the  town ;  and  in  such 
manner  were  they  attended  to  the  gate,  which  the  governor 
ordered  to  be  opened,  and  then  shut  upon  him  and  the  six 
citizens,  whom  he  led  to  the  barriers,  and  said  to  sir  Walter 
Manny,  who  was  there  waiting  for  him,  "  I  deliver  up  to  you, 
as  governor  of  Calais,  with  the  consent  of  the  inhabitants,  these 
six  citizens ;  and  I  swear  to  you  that  they  were,  and  are  at  this 
day,  the  most  wealthy  and  respectable  inhabitants  of  Calais.  I 
beg  of  you,  gentle  sir,  that  you  would  have  the  goodness  to 
beseech  the  king  that  they  may  not  be  put  to  death."  "  I 
cannot  answer  for  what  the  king  will  do  with  them,"  replied  sir 
Walter,  "  but  you  may  depend  that  I  will  do  all  in  my  power  to 
save  them."  The  barriers  were  opened,  when  these  six  citizens 
advanced  towards  the  pavilion  of  the  king,  and  the  lord  de 
Vienne  re-entered  the  town. 

When  sir  Walter  Manny  had  presented  these  six  citizens  to 
the  king,  they  fell  upon  their  knees,  and,  with  uplifted  hands, 
said,  "  Most  gallant  king,  see  before  you  six  citizens  of  Calais, 


46  FROISSART. 

who  have  been  capital  merchants,  and  who  bring  you  the  keys 
of  the  castle  and  of  the  town.  We  surrender  ourselves  to 
your  absolute  will  and  pleasure,  in  order  to  save  the  remainder 
of  the  inhabitants  of  Calais,  who  have  suffered  much  distress 
and  misery.  Condescend,  therefore,  out  of  your  nobleness  of 
mind,  to  have  mercy  and  compassion  upon  us."  All  the  barons, 
knights,  and  squires,  that  were  assembled  there  in  great 
numbers,  wept  at  this  sight.  The  king  eyed  them  with  angry 
looks  (for  he  hated  much  the  people  of  Calais,  for  the  great 
losses  he  had  formerly  suffered  from  them  at  sea),  and  ordered 
their  heads  to  be  stricken  off.  All  present  entreated  the  king 
that  he  would  be  more  merciful  to  them,  but  he  would  not  listen 
to  them.  Then  sir  Walter  Manny  said,  "  Ah,  gentle  king,  let  me 
beseech  you  to  restrain  your  anger :  you  have  the  reputation  of 
great  nobleness  of  soul,  do  not  therefore  tarnish  it  by  such  an 
act  as  this,  nor  allow  any  one  to  speak  in  a  disgraceful  manner 
of  you.  In  this  instance,  all  the  world  will  say  you  have  acted 
cruelly,  if  you  put  to  death  six  such  respectable  persons,  who,  of 
their  own  free  will,  have  surrendered  themselves  to  your  mercy, 
in  order  to  save  their  fellow-citizens."  Upon  this,  the  king  gave 
a  wink,  saying,  "  Be  it  so,"  and  ordered  the  headsman  to  be  sent 
for ;  for  that  the  Calesians  had  done  him  so  much  damage,  it 
was  proper  they  should  suffer  for  it.  The  queen  of  England, 
who  at  that  time  was  very  big  with  child,  fell  on  her  knees,  and 
with  tears  said,  "  Ah,  gentle  sir,  since  I  have  crossed  the  sea 
with  great  danger  to  see  you,  I  have  never  asked  you  one  favour: 
now,  I  most  humbly  ask  as  a  gift,  for  the  sake  of  the  Son  of  the 
blessed  Mary,  and  for  your  love  to  me,  that  you  will  be  merciful 
to  these  six  men."  The  king  looked  at  her  for  some  time  in 
silence,  and  then  said:  "Ah,  lady,  I  wish  you  had  been  any- 
where else  than  here :  you  have  entreated  in  such  a  manner  that 
I  cannot  refuse  you ;  I  therefore  give  them  to  you,  to  do  as  you 
please  with  them."  The  queen  conducted  the  six  citizens  to  her 
apartments,  and  had  the  halters  taken  from  round  their  necks, 
after  which  she  new  clothed  them,  and  served  them  with  a 
plentiful  dinner:  she  then  presented  each  with  six  nobles,  and 
had  them  escorted  out  of  the  camp  in  safety. 


FROISSART,  47 


THE  BATTLE   OF    POITIERS. 

After  the  taking  of  the  castle  of  Romorantin,  and  the  above- 
mentioned  knights,  the  prince  and  his  army  marched  forward 
as  before,  burning  and  destroying  the  country,  in  his  approach 
to  Anjou  and  Touraine.  The  king  of  France,  who  had  resided 
at  Chartres,  set  out  from  that  place  and  came  to  Blois,  where  he 
remained  two  days.  He  then  came  to  Amboise,  and  then  to 
Leches,  where  he  heard  that  the  English  were  in  Touraine, 
taking  the  road  for  their  return  through  Poitou;  for  the  English 
army  was  constantly  observed  by  some  able  and  expert  knights 
of  France  and  Burgundy,  who  sent  the  king  particular  informa- 
tion of  its  movements.  The  king  of  France  then  advanced  to 
La  Haye,  in  Touraine.  His  army  had  crossed  the  Loire,  by  the 
bridges  of  Orleans,  Mehun,  Saumur,  Blois,  and  Tours,  and 
wherever  else  they  could.  There  were  such  numbers  of  good 
and  able  men,  that  there  were  at  least  twenty  thousand  men- 
at-arms,  without  reckoning  the  others:  there  were  twenty-five 
dukes  and  earls,  and  upwards  of  six  score  banners.  The  four 
young  sons  of  the  king  were  also  with  him ;  Charles  duke  of 
Normandy,  the  lord  Lewis,  who  was  afterwards  duke  of  Anjou, 
the  lord  John,  since  duke  of  Berry,  and  the  lord  Philip,  the 
younger,  who  was  afterwards  duke  of  Burgundy. 

About  this  time,  pope  Innocent  VL  had  sent  into  France  two 
cardinals,  sir  Bertrand,  cardinal  of  Perigord,  and  sir  Nicholas, 
cardinal  d'Aigel,  to  endeavour  to  make  a  peace  between  the 
king  of  France  and  his  enemies,  and  especially  between  him 
and  the  king  of  Navarre,  who  was  still  detained  in  prison. 
The  two  cardinals  had  held  frequent  conferences  with  the  king 
on  this  subject,  during  the  siege  of  Breteuil,  but  were  not  able 
to  bring  it  to  a  conclusion.  The  cardinal  of  Perigord  had 
retired  to  the  city  of  Tours,  where  he  was  informed  that  the 
king  of  France  was  marching  in  all  haste  after  the  English.  He 
therefore  left  Tours,  and  hastened  to  Poitiers,  as  he  had  learnt 
that  the  two  armies  were  approaching  near  to  each  other  in 
that  quarter. 

When  the  king  of  France  heard  that  the  prince  of  Wales  was 


48  FROISSART. 

making  as  much  haste  as  possible  to  return,  he  did  not  think  he 
could  any  way  escape  from  him.  He  marched  from  La  Haye, 
with  his  whole  army,  and  made  for  Chauvigny,  where  he  took 
up  his  quarters  on  Thursday,  as  well  in  the  town  as  without  the 
walls,  in  meads  along  the  banks  of  the  river  Vienne.  On  the 
morrow,  after  breakfast,  the  king  crossed  the  river  at  the 
bridge  of  Chauvigny,  and  imagined  that  the  English  were  just 
before  him,  but  he  was  mistaken.  However,  in  the  pursuit, 
upwards  of  forty  thousand  horse  crossed  this  bridge  on  the 
Friday ;  many  others  did  so  at  Chatelleraut ;  and  all,  as  they 
passed,  took  the  road  to  Poitiers.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
prince  of  Wales  and  his  army  were  ignorant  of  the  exact 
motions  of  the  French ;  but  they  supposed  they  were  not  far 
distant,  for  their  foragers  found  great  difficulty  in  procuring 
forage,  of  which  the  whole  army  was  in  extreme  want.  They 
repented  of  the  great  waste  they  had  made  in  Berry,  Anjou,  and 
Touraine,  and  that  they  had  not  more  amply  provisioned  them- 
selves. 

It  happened  on  this  Friday,  from  the  king  of  France  in  person 
passing  the  bridge  of  Chauvigny,  and  the  great  crowds  which 
attended  him,  that  three  great  barons  of  France,  the  lord  of 
Auxerre,  the  lord  Raoul  de  Joigny,  and  the  earl  of  Joigny,  were 
obliged  to  remain  all  that  day  in  the  town  of  Chauvigny,  and  a 
part  of  their  people  with  them :  the  others  passed  over  without 
baggage  or  armour  except  what  they  had  on  their  backs.  On 
the  Saturday  morning,  they  dislodged,  crossed  the  bridge,  and 
followed  the  army  of  the  king,  which  was  about  three  leagues 
off.  They  made  for  the  open  fields  and  the  heaths,  which  were 
surrounded  by  woods,  in  order  to  arrive  at  Poitiers.  This  same 
Saturday,  the  prince  decamped  from  a  village  hard  by,  and 
sent  forward  a  detachment  to  seek  adventures,  and  to  bring 
some  intelligence  of  the  French.  They  consisted  of  about  sixty 
men,  well  armed  and  mounted  for  the  occasion.  Among  the 
knights  were  sir  Eustace  d'Ambreticourt  and  sir  John  de  Ciuis- 
telles.  By  accident,  they  got  on  the  heaths  surrounded  by  the 
woods  above  mentioned.  The  French  soon  saw  they  were 
enemies;  they  fixed  on  their  helmets,  and  unfurled  their  banners 


11 


FROISSART.  49 

as  quickly  as  they  were  able;  when,  fixing  their  lances  in  their 
rests,  they  stuck  spurs  to  their  horses. 

The  English  no  sooner  perceived  these  Frenchmen,  who 
were  about  two  hundred  lances,  than  they  resolved  to  allow 
themselves  to  be  pursued,  as  the  prince  and  his  army  were  not 
far  distant:  they  therefore  wheeled  about,  and  made  for  the 
rutty  road  through  the  wood.  The  French  chased  them  with 
shouts  and  a  great  noise,  and  as  they  galloped  on,  fell  in  with 
the  army  of  the  prince,  which  had  halted  among  the  heaths  to 
wait  for  their  companions.  The  lord  Raoul  de  Joigny,  and 
those  under  his  banner,  were  advanced  so  far  that  they  came 
right  upon  the  banner  of  the  prince :  the  engagement  was  very 
sharp,  and  sir  Raoul  fought  well:  however,  he  was  made 
prisoner,  as  were  the  earl  of  Joigny,  the  Viscount  de  Breuse, 
and  the  lord  of  Chauvigny :  the  greater  part  were  either  slain  or 
captured.  By  these  the  prince  learnt  that  the  king  of  France 
had  marched  forward,  and  that  he  could  not  return  without 
fighting  him.  Upon  which,  he  collected  all  the  stragglers,  and 
ordered  that  no  one,  under  pain  of  death,  should  advance  or 
skirmish  before  the  battalion  of  the  marshals.  They  marched 
on  this  Saturday,  from  about  nine  o'clock  until  vespers,  when 
they  came  within  small  leagues  of  Poitiers.  The  captal  de 
Buch,  sir  Haymenon  de  Pomiers,  sir  Bartholomew  Burgherst, 
and  sir  Eustace  d'Ambreticourt  were  ordered  to  advance,  and 
observe  where  the  French  were  encamped.  These  knights, 
with  two  hundred  men  well  armed  and  mounted  on  their  best 
steeds,  set  out,  and  soon  perceived  the  French  king's  army.  All 
the  plain  was  covered  with  men-at-arms ;  and  these  English 
could  not  refrain  from  attacking  the  rear  of  the  French ;  they 
unhorsed  many,  and  took  some  prisoners,  insomuch  that  the 
main  army  began  to  be  in  motion.  News  was  brought  of  this 
to  the  king  of  France,  as  he  was  on  the  point  of  entering  the 
city  of  Poitiers:  upon  which  he  turned  back,  and  ordered  his 
whole  army  to  do  the  same,  and  make  for  the  open  fields,  so 
that  it  was  very  late  before  they  were  quartered.  The  English 
detachment  returned  to  the  prince,  and  related  to  him  the 
appearance  of  the  French,  that  they  were  in  immense  numbers. 

4 


50  FROISSART. 

The  prince,  on  hearing  this,  said,  "  God  help  us ;  we  must  now 
consider  which  will  be  the  best  manner  to  fight  them  the  most 
advantageously."  This  night,  the  English  were  quartered  in  a 
very  strong  position,  among  vineyards  and  hedges,  and  both 
armies  were  well  guarded. 

On  the  Sunday  morning,  the  king  of  France,  who  was  very 
impatient  to  combat  the  English,  ordered  a  solemn  mass  to  be 
sung  in  his  pavilion;  and  he  and  his  four  sons  received  the 
communion.     Mass  being  over,  there  came  to  him  the  duke  of 
Orleans,  the  duke  of  Bourbon,  the  earl  of  Ponthieu,  the   lord 
James  de  Bourbon,  the  duke  of  Athens,  constable  of  France, 
the  earl  of  Tancarville,  the  earl  of  Saltzburg,  the  earl  of  Dam- 
martin,  the  earl  of  Vantadour,  and  many  barons  of  France,  as 
well  as  other  great  lords  who  held  fiefs  in  the  neighbourhood, 
such  as  my  lord  of  Clermont,  sir  Arnold  d'Andreghen,  marshal 
of  France,  the  lord  de  St.  Venant,  the  lord  John  de  Landas,  the 
lord   Eustace   de  Ribeaumont,  the  lord  de  Fiennes,  the   lord 
Geoffrey  de  Chargny,  the  lord  of  Chatillon,  the  lord  of  Sully, 
the    lord   of   Nesle,    sir    Robert    de   Duras,  and   many  more, 
according  to  a  summons  they  had  received  for  a  council.     They 
were   a   considerable  time    debating:    at  last    it    was  ordered 
that  the  whole  army  should  advance  into  the  plain,  and  that 
each  lord  should  display  his  banner,  and  push  forward  in  the 
name  of  God  and  St.  Denis.     Upon  this,  the  trumpets  of  the 
army  sounded,  and  every  one  got  himself  ready,  mounted  his 
horse,  and  made  for  that  part  of  the  plain  where  the  king's 
banner  was  planted  and  fluttering  in  the  wind.     There  might 
be  seen  all  the  nobility  of  France,  richly  dressed  out  in  brilliant 
armour,  with  banners  and  pennons  gallantly  displayed ;  for  all 
the  flower  of  the  French   nobility  were  there:   no  knight  nor 
squire,  for  fear  of  dishonour,  dared  to  remain  at  home.     By  the 
advice  of  the  constable  and  the  marshals,  the  army  was  divided 
into  three  battalions,  each  consisting  of  sixteen  thousand  men- 
at-arms,  who  had  before  shown  themselves  men  of  tried  courage. 
The  duke  of  Orleans  commanded  the  first  battalion,  where  there 
were    thirty-six    banners   and   twice   as   many    pennons.     The 
second  was  under  the  command  of  the  duke  of  Normandy,  and 


FROISSART.  51 

his  two  brothers,  the  lord  Lewis  and  lord  John.     The  king  of 
France  commanded  the  third. 

Whilst  these  three  battalions  were  forming,  the  king  called  to 
him  the  lord  Eustace  de  Ribeaumont,  the  lord  John  de  Landas, 
and  the  lord  Guiscard  de  Beaujeu,  and  said  to  them,  "  Ride  for- 
ward, as  near  the  English  army  as  you  can,  and  observe  their 
countenance,  taking  notice  of  their  numbers,  and  examine  which 
will  be  the  most  advantageous  manner  for  us  to  combat  them, 
whether  on  horseback  or  on  foot."  The  three  knights  left  the 
king  to  obey  his  commands.  The  king  was  mounted  upon  a 
white  palfrey,  and,  riding  to  the  head  of  his  army,  said  aloud: 
"You,  men  of  Paris,  Chartres,  Rouen  and  Orleans,  have  been 
used  to  threaten  what  you  would  do  to  the  English,  if  you  could 
find  them,  and  wished  much  to  meet  them  in  arms :  now,  that 
wish  shall  be  gratified :  I  will  lead  you  to  them ;  and  let  us  see 
how  you  will  revenge  yourselves  for  all  the  mischief  and  damage 
they  have  done  you ;  be  assured  we  will  not  part  without 
fighting."  Those  who  heard  him  replied :  "  Sir,  through  God's 
assistance,  we  will  most  cheerfully  meet  them."  At  this  instant 
the  three  knights  returned,  and  pushing  through  the  crowd, 
came  to  the  king,  who  asked  what  news  they  had  brought :  sir 
Eustace  de  Ribeaumont,  whom  his  companions  had  requested 
to  be  their  spokesman,  answered :  "  Sir,  we  have  observed 
accurately  the  English;  they  may  amount,  according  to  our 
estimate,  to  about  two  thousand  men-at-arms,  four  thousand 
archers,  and  fifteen  hundred  footmen.  They  are  in  a  very 
strong  position ;  but  we  do  not  imagine  they  can  make  more 
than  one  battalion ;  nevertheless,  they  have  posted  themselves 
with  great  judgment,  have  fortified  all  the  road  along  the  hedge- 
side,  and  lined  the  hedges  with  part  of  their  archers ;  for,  as 
that  is  the  only  road  for  an  attack,  one  must  pass  through  the 
midst  of  them.  This  lane  has  no  other  entry;  and  it  is  so 
narrow,  that  scarcely  can  four  men  ride  through  it  abreast.  At 
the  end  of  this  lane,  amidst  vines  and  thorns,  where  it  is  impos- 
sible to  ride  or  march  in  any  regular  order,  are  posted  the  men- 
at-arms  on  foot;  and  they  have  drawn  up  before  them  their 
archers,  in  the  manner  of  a  harrow,  so  that  it  will  be  no  easy 


52  FROISSART. 

matter  to  defeat  them."  The  king  asked  in  what  manner  they 
would  advise  him  to  attack  them  :  "  Sir,"  replied  sir  Eustace, 
"  on  foot :  except  three  hundred  of  the  most  expert  and  boldest 
of  your  army,  who  must  be  well  armed  and  excellently  mounted, 
in  order  to  break,  if  possible,  this  body  of  archers ;  and  then 
your  battalions  must  advance  quickly  on  foot,  attack  the  men- 
at-arms  hand  to  hand,  and  combat  them  valiantly.  This  is  the 
best  advice  that  I  can  give  you ;  and  if  any  one  know  a  better, 
let  him  say  it."  The  king  replied,  "Thus  shall  it  be  then;" 
and,  in  company  with  his  two  marshals,  he  rode  from  battalion 
to  battalion,  and  selected,  in  conformity  to  their  opinions,  three 
hundred  knights  and  squires  of  the  greatest  repute  in  his  army, 
each  well  armed  and  mounted  on  the  best  of  horses.  Soon 
after,  the  battalion  of  the  Germans  was  formed,  who  were  to 
remain  on  horseback  to  assist  the  marshals :  they  were  com- 
manded by  the  earls  of  Saltzburg,  Neydo,  and  Nassau. 

King  John  was  armed  in  royal  armour,  and  nineteen  others 
like  him.  He  had  given  his  eldest  son  in  charge  to  the  lord  of 
St.  Venant,  the  lord  of  Landas,  and  the  lord  Theobald  de 
Bodenay.  The  lord  Geoffry  de  Chargny  carried  the  banner  of 
France,  as  being  the  most  valiant  and  prudent  knight  of  the 
army.  The  lord  Reginald  de  Quenolle,  surnamed  the  Arch- 
priest,  wore  the  full  armour  of  the  young  earl  of  Alengon. 

When  the  battalions  of  the  king  of  France  were  drawn  up,  and 
each  lord  posted  under  his  proper  banner,  and  informed  how 
they  were  to  act,  it  was  ordered  that  all  those  who  were  armed 
with  lances  should  shorten  them  to  the  length  of  five  feet,  that 
they  might  be  the  more  manageable,  and  that  every  one  should 
take  off  his  spurs.  As  the  French  were  on  the  point  of  marching 
to  their  enemies,  the  cardinal  de  Perigord,  who  had  left  Poitiers 
that  morning  early,  came  full  gallop  up  to  the  king,  making 
a  low  reverence,  and  entreated  him,  with  uplifted  hands,  for  the 
love  of  God,  to  halt  a  moment,  that  he  might  speak  to  him :  he 
thus  began:  "Most  dear  sire,  you  have  here  with  you  all  the 
flower  of  knighthood  of  your  kingdom  against  a  handful  of 
people,  such  as  the  English  are,  when  compared  to  your  army; 
you  may  have  them  upon  other  terms  than  by  a  battle ;  and  it 


i 


FROISSART.  53 

will  be  more  honourable  and  profitable  to  you  to  gain  them  by 
this  means  than  to  risk  such  a  fine  army,  and  such  noble  persons 
as  you  have  now  with  you.  I  therefore  beseech  you,  in  all 
humility,  and  by  the  love  of  God,  that  you  will  permit  me  to  go 
to  the  prince,  and  remonstrate  with  him  on  the  dangerous  situa- 
tion he  is  in."  The  king  answered,  "  It  is  very  agreeable  to  us; 
but  make  haste  back  again." 

The  cardinal  upon  this  set  off,  and  went  in  all  speed  to  the 
prince,  whom  he  found  on  foot  in  the  midst  of  his  army,  in  the 
thickest  part  of  a  vineyard.  When  the  cardinal  came  there,  he 
dismounted,  and  advanced  to  the  prince,  who  most  affably 
received  him,  and,  after  he  had  made  his  reverence,  said :  "  Fair 
son,  if  you  have  well  considered  the  great  army  of  the  king  of 
France,  you  will  permit  me  to  make  up  matters  between  you 
both,  if  I  possibly  can."  The  prince,  who  was  but  in  his  youth, 
replied:  "Sir,  my  own  honour,  and  that  of  my  army  saved,  I 
am  ready  to  listen  to  any  reasonable  terms."  The  cardinal 
answered :  "  Fair  son,  you  say  well :  and  I  will  bring  about 
a  treaty,  if  I  can;  for  it  would  be  a  great  pity  that  so  many 
worthy  persons,  who  are  here,  should  meet  in  battle."  The 
cardinal  returned  to  the  king  of  France,  and  said :  "  Sir,  you 
have  no  occasion  to  be  so  impatient  to  fight  with  them,  for  they 
cannot  escape  from  you ;  I  therefore  entreat  you  would  grant 
them  a  truce  from  this  time  until  to-morroVs  sunrise."  The 
king  at  first  would  not  agree  to  it,  for  a  part  of  his  council  refused 
their  consent :  however,  the  cardinal  spoke  so  eloquently,  that 
the  king  at  last  assented.  He  ordered  a  very  handsome  and 
rich  pavilion  of  red  silk  to  be  pitched  on  the  spot  where  he 
stood,  and  dismissed  his  army  to  their  quarters,  except  the 
battalion  of  the  constable  and  marshals. 

All  this  Sunday,  the  cardinal  rode  from  one  army  to  the  other, 
and  was  very  anxious  to  reconcile  the  two  parties.  But  the 
king  would  not  listen  to  any  other  terms  than  that  four  principal 
persons  of  the  English  should  be  given  up  to  his  will,  and  that 
the  prince  and  his  army  should  unconditionally  surrender  them- 
selves. Many  proposals  were  made:  the  prince  offered  to 
surrender  to  the  king  of  France  all  the  towns  and  castles  which 


54  FROISSART. 

he  had  conquered  in  this  expedition;  to  give  up,  without 
ransom,  all  his  prisoners,  and  to  swear  he  would  not  for  seven 
years  take  up  arms  against  the  king  of  France.  The  king  and 
his  council  refused  to  accept  of  this,  and  the  affair  remained 
some  time  in  suspense :  at  last,  they  declared  that  if  the  prince 
of  Wales  and  one  hundred  of  his  knights  did  not  surrender 
themselves  prisoners  to  the  king  of  France,  he  would  not  allow 
them  to  pass  on  without  an  engagement.  The  prince  and  his 
army  disdained  accepting  of  such  conditions. 

Whilst  the  cardinal  was  riding  from  one  army  to  the  other, 
endeavouring  to  make  peace,  some  knights  of  either  party  rode 
forth,  skirting  their  enemy's  army,  to  examine  its  disposition. 
It  chanced,  on  that  day,  that  sir  John  Chandos  had  rode  out 
near  one  of  the  wings  of  the  French  army,  and  lord  John  de 
Clermont,  one  of  the  king's  marshals,  had  done  the  same,  to 
view  the  English.  As  each  knight  was  returning  to  his  quarters, 
they  met;  they  both  had  the  same  device  upon  the  surcoats 
which  they  wore  over  their  other  clothes;  it  was  a  Virgin  Mary, 
embroidered  on  a  field  azure,  or,  encompassed  with  the  rays  of 
the  sun  argent.  On  seeing  this,  lord  Clermont  said :  "  Chandos, 
how  long  is  it  since  you  have  taken  upon  you  to  wear  my  arms  ? " 
"  It  is  you  who  have  mine,"  replied  Chandos ;  "for  it  is  as  much 
mine  as  yours."  "  I  deny  that,"  said  the  lord  of  Clermont, 
"  and  were  it  not  for  the  truce  between  us,  I  would  soon  show 
you  that  you  have  no  right  to  wear  it.''  "  Ha,"  answered  sir 
John  Chandos,  "  you  will  find  me  to-morrow  in  the  field,  ready 
prepared  to  defend,  and  to  prove  by  force  of  arms,  that  it  is  as 
much  mine  as  yours."  The  lord  of  Clermont  replied :  "  These 
are  the  boastings  of  you  English,  who  can  invent  nothing  new, 
but  take  for  your  own  whatever  you  see  handsome  belonging  to 
others."  With  that  they  parted,  without  more  words,  and  each 
returned  to  his  own  army.  The  cardinal  de  Perigord,  not  being 
able  by  any  means  to  reconcile  the  king  and  prince,  returned  to 
Poitiers  late  in  the  evening.  That  same  day  the  French  kept 
in  their  quarters,  where  they  lived  at  their  ease,  having  plenty 
of  provisions  j  whilst  the  English,  on  the  other  hand,  were  but 
badly  ofTf,  nor  did  they  know  whither  to  go  for  forage,  as  they 


FROISSART.  55 

were  so  straitly  kept  by  the  French,  they  could  not  move  with- 
out danger.  This  Sunday  they  made  many  mounds  and  ditches 
round  where  the  archers  were  posted,  the  better  to  secure  them. 

On  Monday  morning,  the  prince  and  his  army  were  soon  in 
readiness,  and  as  well  arrayed  as  on  the  former  day.  The 
French  were  also  drawn  out  by  sunrise.  The  cardinal,  return- 
ing again  that  morning,  imagined  that,  by  his  exhortations,  he 
could  pacify  both  parties;  but  the  French  told  him  to  return 
where  he  pleased,  and  not  attempt  bringing  them  any  more 
treaties  or  pacifications,  else  worse  might  betide  him.  When 
the  cardinal  saw  that  he  laboured  in  vain,  he  took  leave  of  the 
king  of  France,  and  set  out  toward  the  prince  of  Wales,  to 
whom  he  said :  "  Fair  son,  exert  yourself  as  much  as  possible, 
for  there  must  be  a  battle ;  I  cannot  by  any  means  pacify  the 
king  of  France."  The  prince  replied,  "  that  such  were  the 
intentions  of  him  and  his  army;  and  God  defend  the  right." 
The  cardinal  then  took  leave  of  him,  and  returned  to  Poitiers. 
In  his  company  there  were  some  knights  and  men-at-arms  more 
inclined  to  the  French  than  to  the  English,  who,  when  they  saw 
that  a  battle  was  unavoidable,  stole  away  from  their  master, 
and,  joining  the  French  forces,  chose  for  their  leader  the  castellan 
of  Amposta,  who  at  that  time  was  attached  to  the  cardinal. 
The  cardinal  knew  nothing  of  this  until  he  was  arrived  at 
Poitiers. 

The  arrangement  of  the  prince's  army,  in  respect  to  the  bat- 
talions, was  exactly  the  same  as  what  the  three  knights  before 
named  had  related  to  the  king  of  France,  except  that  at  this 
time  he  had  ordered  some  valiant  and  intelligent  knights  to 
remain  on  horseback,  similar  to  the  battalion  of  the  French 
marshals,  and  had  also  commanded  three  hundred  men-at- 
arms,  and  as  many  archers  on  horseback,  to  post  themselves 
on  the  right  on  a  small  hill,  that  was  not  too  steep  nor  too 
high,  and,  by  passing  over  its  summit,  to  get  round  the  wing  of 
the  duke  of  Normandy's  battalion,  who  was  in  person  at  the 
foot  of  it.  These  were  all  the  alterations  the  prince  had  made 
in  his  order  of  battle  :  he  himself  was  with  the  main  body,  in 
the  midst  of  the  vineyards  :  the  whole  completely  armed,  with 


56  FROISSART. 

their  horses  near,  if  there  should  be  occasion  for  them.  They 
had  fortified  and  enclosed  the  weaker  parts,  with  their  waggons 
and  baggage. 

I  wish  to  name  some  of  the  most  renowned  knights  who  were 
with  the  prince  of  Wales.  There  were  Thomas  Beauchamp  earl 
of  Warwick,  John  Vere  earl  of  Oxford,  William  Montacute  earl 
of  Salisbury,  Robert  Hufiford  earl  of  Suffolk,  Ralph  lord  Stafford, 
the  earl  of  Stafford,  the  lord  Richard  Stafford,  brother  to  the 
earl,  sir  John  Chandos,  the  lord  Reginald  Cobham,  the  lord 
Edward  Spencer,  the  lord  James  Audley  and  his  brother  the 
lord  Peter,  the  lord  Thomas  Berkley  (son  of  the  lord  Maurice 
Berkley,  who  died  at  Calais  nine  years  before),  Ralph  lord 
Basset  of  Drayton,  John  lord  Warren  (eldest  son  to  John 
Plantagenet  late  earl  of  Warren,  Strathern,  and  Surrey,  by  his 
first  lady  Maude  de  Hereford),  Peter  lord  Mauley,  the  sixth  of  the 
name,  the  lord  John  Willoughby  de  Eresby,  the  lord  Bartholo- 
mew de  Burgherst,  the  lord  William  Felton  and  the  lord  Thomas 
Felton  his  brother,  the  lord  Thomas  Bradestan,  sir  Walter 
Pavely,  sir  Stephen  Cossington,  sir  Matthew  Gournay,  sir 
William  de  la  More,  and  other  English.  From  Gascony 
there  were  the  lord  of  Pumiers,  the  lord  d'Albret,  the  captal 
de  Buch,  the  lord  John  de  Chaumont,  the  lord  de  I'Esparre,  the 
lord  of  Rosen,  the  lord  of  Cousen,  the  lord  de  Montferrand,  the 
lord  de  Landulas,  the  lord  Souldich  de  la  Traine,  and  many 
more  whom  I  cannot  remember.  Of  Hainaulters  there  were 
sir  Eustace  d'Ambreticourt,  the  lord  John  de  Guystelle,  and 
two  other  strangers,  the  lord  Daniel  Phaselle  and  lord  Denis 
de  Morbeque.  The  whole  army  of  the  prince,  including  every 
one,  did  not  amount  to  eight  thousand  :  when  the  French, 
counting  all  sorts  of  persons,  were  upwards  of  sixty  thousand 
combatants ;  among  whom  were  more  than  three  thousand 
knights. 

When  the  prince  of  Wales  saw,  from  the  departure  of  the 
cardinal  without  being  able  to  obtain  any  honourable  terms, 
that  a  battle  was  inevitable,  and  that  the  king  of  France  held 
both  him  and  his  army  in  great  contempt,  he  thus  addressed 
himself  to  them:  "Now,  my  gallant  fellows,  what  though  we 


FROISSART.  57 

be  a  small  body  when  compared  to  the  army  of  our  enemies ; 
do  not  let  us  be  cast  down  on  that  account,  for  victory  does  not 
always  follow  numbers,  but  where  the  Almighty  God  pleases  to 
bestow  it.  If,  through  good  fortune,  the  day  shall  be  ours,  we 
will  gain  the  greatest  honour  and  glory  in  this  world  :  if  the 
contrary  should  happen,  and  we  be  slain,  I  have  a  father  and 
beloved  brethren  alive,  and  you  all  have  some  relations,  or  good 
friends,  who  will  be  sure  to  revenge  our  deaths.  I  therefore 
entreat  of  you  to  exert  yourselves,  and  combat  manfully;  for,  if 
it  please  God  and  St.  George,  you  shall  see  me  this  day  act  like 
a  true  knight."  By  such  words  and  arguments  as  these,  the 
prince  harangued  his  men;  as  did  the  marshals,  by  his  orders; 
so  that  they  were  all  in  high  spirits.  Sir  John  Chandos  placed 
himself  near  the  prince,  to  guard  and  advise  him ;  and  never, 
during  that  day,  would  he,  on  any  account,  quit  his  post. 

The  lord  James  Audley  remained  also  a  considerable  time, 
near  him;  but,  when  he  saw  that  they  must  certainly  engage, 
he  said  to  the  prince  :  "  Sir,  I  have  ever  served  most  loyally  my 
lord  your  father,  and  yourself,  and  shall  continue  so  to  do  as 
long  as  I  have  life.  Dear  sir,  I  must  now  acquaint  you  that 
formerly  I  made  a  vow,  if  ever  I  should  be  engaged  in  any 
battle  where  the  king  your  father  or  any  of  his  sons  were,  that  I 
would  be  the  foremost  in  the  attack,  and  the  best  combatant  on 
his  side,  or  die  in  the  attempt.  I  beg  therefore  most  earnestly, 
as  a  reward  for  any  services  I  may  have  done,  that  you  would 
grant  me  permission  honourably  to  quit  you,  that  I  may  post 
myself  in  such  wise  to  accomplish  my  vow."  The  prince 
granted  this  request,  and,  holding  out  his  hand  to  him,  said, 
"Sir  James,  God  grant  that  this  day  you  may  shine  in  valour 
above  all  other  knights."  The  knight  then  set  ofif,  and  posted 
himself  at  the  front  of  the  battalion,  with  only  four  squires 
whom  he  had  detained  with  him  to  guard  his  person.  This 
lord  James  was  a  prudent  and  valiant  knight ;  and  by  his 
advice  the  army  had  thus  been  drawn  up  in  order  of  battle. 
Lord  James  began  to  advance,  in  order  to  fight  with  the 
battalion  of  the  marshals.  In  like  manner,  sir  Eustace 
d'Ambreticourt   took   great   pains   to   be   the  first   to   engage, 


58  FROISSART, 

and  was  so,  or  near  it:  and,  at  the  time  that  lord  James 
Audley  was  pushing  forward  to  seek  his  enemies,  it  thus 
befell  sir  Eustace.  I  mentioned  before  that  the  Germans 
attached  to  the  French  interest  were  drawn  up  in  one  battalion 
on  horseback,  and  remained  so,  to  assist  the  marshals.  Sir 
Eustace  d'Ambreticourt,  being  mounted,  placed  his  lance  in  its 
rest,  and,  fixing  his  shield,  stuck  spurs  into  his  horse,  and 
galloped  up  to  this  battalion.  A  German  knight,  called  lord 
Lewis  von  Coucibras  (who  bore  for  arms  five  roses,  gules,  on 
a  shield  argent,  while  those  of  sir  Eustace  were  ermine,  three 
humets,  in  pale  gules),  perceiving  sir  Eustace  quit  his  army,  left 
his  battalion  that  was  under  the  command  of  earl  John  of 
Nassau,  and  made  up  to  him :  the  shock  of  their  meeting  was 
so  violent  that  they  both  fell  to  the  ground.  The  German  was 
wounded  in  the  shoulder,  so  that  he  could  not  rise  again  so 
nimbly  as  sir  Eustace,  who,  when  upon  his  legs,  after  he  had 
taken  breath,  was  hastening  to  the  knight  that  lay  on  the 
ground ;  but  five  German  men-at-arms  came  upon  him,  struck 
him  down,  and  made  him  prisoner.  They  led  him  to  those 
that  were  attached  to  the  earl  of  Nassau,  who  did  not  pay  much 
attention  to  him,  nor  do  I  know  if  they  made  him  swear  himself 
their  prisoner;  but  they  tied  him  to  a  car  with  some  of  their 
harness. 

The  engagement  now  began  on  both  sides :  and  the  battalion 
of  the  marshals  was  advancing  before  those  who  were  intended 
to  break  the  battalion  of  the  archers,  and  had  entered  the  lane 
where  the  hedges  on  both  sides  were  lined  by  the  archers ;  who, 
as  soon  as  they  saw  them  fairly  entered,  began  shooting  with 
their  bows  in  such  an  excellent  manner,  from  each  side  of  the 
hedge,  that  the  horses,  smarting  under  the  pain  of  the  wounds 
made  by  their  bearded  arrows,  would  not  advance,  but  turned 
about,  and,  by  their  unruliness,  threw  their  masters,  who  could 
not  manage  them,  nor  could  those  that  had  fallen  get  up  again 
for  the  confusion :  so  that  this  battalion  of  the  marshals  could 
never  approach  that  of  the  prince :  however,  there  were  some 
knights  and  squires  so  well  mounted,  that,  by  the  strength  of 
their  horses,  they  passed  through,  and  broke  the  hedge,  but,  in 


FROISSART,  59 

spite  of  their  efforts,  could  not  get  up  to  the  battalion  of  the 
prince.  The  lord  James  Audley,  attended  by  his  four  squires, 
had  placed  himself,  sword  in  hand,  in  front  of  this  battalion, 
much  before  the  rest,  and  was  performing  wonders.  He  had 
advanced,  through  his  eagerness,  so  far,  that  he  engaged 
the  lord  Arnold  d'Andreghen,  marshal  of  France,  under  his 
banner,  when  they  fought  a  considerable  time,  and  the  lord 
Arnold  was  roughly  enough  treated.  The  battalion  of  the 
marshals  was  soon  after  put  to  the  rout  by  the  arrows  of  the 
archers,  and  the  assistance  of  the  men-at-arms,  who  rushed 
among  them  as  they  were  struck  down,  and  seized  and  slew 
them  at  their  pleasure.  The  lord  Arnold  d'Andreghen  was 
there  made  prisoner,  but  by  others  than  the  lord  James  Audley 
or  his  four  squires;  for  that  knight  never  stopped  to  make 
any  one  his  prisoner  that  day,  but  was  the  whole  time  employed 
in  fighting  and  following  his  enemies.  In  another  part,  the 
lord  John  Clermont  fought  under  his  banner  as  long  as  he  was 
able ;  but,  being  struck  down,  he  could  neither  get  up  again 
nor  procure  his  ransom;  he  was  killed  on  the  spot.  Some 
say  this  treatment  was  owing  to  his  altercation  on  the  preceding 
day  with  sir  John  Chandos. 

In  a  short  time,  this  battalion  of  the  marshals  was  totally 
discomfited ;  for  they  fell  back  so  much  on  each  other,  that  the 
army  could  not  advance,  and  those  who  were  in  the  rear,  not 
being  able  to  get  forward,  fell  back  upon  the  battalion  com- 
manded by  the  duke  of  Normandy,  which  was  broad  and  thick 
in  the  front,  but  it  was  soon  thin  enough  in  the  rear ;  for,  when 
they  learnt  that  the  marshals  had  been  defeated,  they  mounted 
their  horses  and  set  off.  At  this  time,  a  body  of  English  came 
down  from  the  hill,  and,  passing  along  the  battalions  on  horse- 
back, accompanied  by  a  large  body  of  archers,  fell  upon  one  of 
the  wings  of  the  duke  of  Normandy's  division.  To  say  the 
truth,  the  English  archers  were  of  infinite  service  to  their  army; 
for  they  shot  so  thickly  and  so  well,  that  the  French  did  not 
know  which  way  to  turn  themselves,  to  avoid  their  arrows;  by 
this  means  they  kept  advancing  by  little  and  little,  and  gained 
ground.       When    the    men-at-arms    perceived   that    the  first 


6o  FROISSART. 

battalion  was  beaten,  and  that  the  one  under  the  duke  of 
Normandy  was  in  disorder,  and  beginning  to  open,  they 
hastened  to  mount  their  horses,  which  they  had,  ready  pre- 
pared, close  at  hand.  As  soon  as  they  were  all  mounted,  they 
gave  a  shout  of  "St.  George,  for  Guienne  !"  and  sir  John 
Chandos  said  to  the  prince  :  "  Sir,  sir,  now  push  forward,  for 
the  day  is  ours :  God  will  this  day  put  it  in  your  hand.  Let  us 
make  for  our  adversary  the  king  of  France;  for  where  he  is 
will  lie  the  main  stress  of  the  business ;  I  well  know  that  his 
valour  will  not  let  him  fly;  and  he  will  remain  with  us,  if  it 
please  God  and  St.  George :  but  he  must  be  well  fought  with ; 
and  you  have  before  said  that  you  would  show  yourself  this 
day  a  good  knight."  The  prince  replied:  "John,  get  forward; 
you  shall  not  see  me  turn  my  back  this  day,  but  I  will  always 
be  among  the  foremost."  He  then  said  to  sir  Walter  Wood- 
land, his  banner-bearer,  "  Banner,  advance,  in  the  name  of  God 
and  St.  George."  The  knight  obeyed  the  commands  of  the 
prince.  In  that  part,  the  battle  was  very  hot,  and  greatly 
crowded :  many  a  one  was  unhorsed :  and  you  must  know  that 
whenever  any  one  fell,  he  could  not  get  up  again,  unless  he 
were  quickly  and  well  assisted.  As  the  prince  was  thus 
advancing  upon  his  enemies,  followed  by  his  division,  and 
upon  the  point  of  charging  them,  he  perceived  the  lord  Robert 
de  Duras  lying  dead  near  a  small  bush  on  his  right  hand,  with 
his  banner  beside  him,  and  ten  or  twelve  of  his  people :  upon 
which  he  ordered  two  of  his  squires  and  three  archers  to  place 
the  body  upon  a  shield,  carry  it  to  Poitiers,  and  present  it  from 
him  to  the  cardinal  of  Perigord,  and  say,  that  "  I  salute  him  by 
that  token."  This  was  done ;  for  he  had  been  informed  how 
the  suite  of  the  cardinal  had  remained  in  the  field  of  battle  in 
arms  against  him,  which  was  not  very  becoming,  nor  a  fit  deed 
for  churchmen  to  do ;  as  they,  under  pretext  of  doing  good  and 
establishing  peace,  pass  from  one  army  to  the  other,  they  ought 
not  therefore  to  take  up  arms  on  either  side.  These,  however, 
had  done  so,  at  which  the  prince  was  much  enraged,  and  for 
this  had  sent  the  cardinal  his  nephew  sir  Robert  de  Duras,  and 
was  desirous  of  striking  off  the  head  of  the  castellan  of  Amposta, 


FROISSART.  6i 

who  had  been  made  prisoner,  notwithstanding  he  belonged  to 
the  cardinal ;  but  sir  John  Chandos  said,  "  My  lord,  do  not 
think  of  such  things  at  this  moment,  when  you  must  look  to 
others  of  the  greatest  importance;  perhaps  the  cardinal  may 
excuse  himself  so  well,  that  you  will  be  convinced  he  was  not 
to  blame." 

The  prince,  upon  this,  charged  the  division  of  the  duke  of 
Athens,  and  very  sharp  the  encounter  was,  so  that  many  were 
beaten  down.  The  French,  who  fought  in  large  bodies,  cried 
out,  "Montjoye  St.  Denis!"  and  the  English  answered  them 
with,  "St.  George  for  Guienne!"  The  prince  next  met  the 
battalion  of  Germans,  under  the  command  of  the  earl  of 
Saltzburg,  the  earl  of  Nassau,  and  the  earl  of  Neydo ;  but  they 
were  soon  overthrown,  and  put  to  flight.  The  English  archers 
shot  so  well,  that  none  dared  to  come  within  reach  of  their 
arrows,  and  they  put  to  death  many  who  could  not  ransom 
themselves.  The  three  above-named  earls  were  slain  there,  as 
well  as  many  other  knights  and  squires  attached  to  them.  In 
the  confusion,  sir  Eustace  d'Ambreticourt  was  rescued  by  his 
own  men,  who  remounted  him :  he  afterwards  performed  many 
gallant  deeds  of  arms,  and  made  good  captures  that  day. 

When  the  battalion  of  the  duke  of  Normandy  saw  the  prince 
advancing  so  quick  upon  them,  they  bethought  themselves  how 
to  escape.  The  sons  of  the  king,  the  duke  of  Normandy,  the 
earl  of  Poitiers,  and  the  earl  of  Touraine,  who  were  very  young, 
too  easily  believed  what  those  under  whose  management  they 
were  placed  said  to  them :  however,  the  lord  Guiscard  d' Angle 
and  sir  John  de  Saintre,  who  were  near  the  earl  of  Poitiers, 
would  not  fly,  but  rushed  into  the  thickest  of  the  combat.  The 
three  sons  of  the  king,  according  to  the  advice  given  them, 
galloped  away,  with  upwards  of  eight  hundred  lances  who  had 
never  been  near  the  enemy,  and  took  the  road  to  Chauvigny. 
When  the  lord  John  de  Landas,  who,  with  the  lord  Theobald 
de  Bodenay  and  the  lord  of  St.  Venant,  were  the  guardians  of 
the  duke  of  Normandy,  had  fled  with  him  a  good  league,  they 
took  leave  of  him,  and  besought  the  lord  of  St.  Venant  not  to 
quit  him  until  they  were  all  arrived  at  a  place  of  safety ;  for,  by 


62  FRO  I SS ART, 

doing  thus,  he  would  acquire  more  honour  than  if  he  were  to 
remain  on  the  field  of  battle.  On  their  return,  they  met  the 
division  of  the  duke  of  Orleans,  quite  whole  and  unhurt,  who 
had  fled  from  behind  the  rear  of  the  king's  battalion.  True  it 
is,  there  were  many  good  knights  and  squires  among  them, 
who,  notwithstanding  the  flight  of  their  leaders,  had  much 
rather  have  suffered  death  than  the  smallest  reproach.  The 
king's  battalion  advanced  in  good  order,  to  meet  the  English : 
many  hard  blows  were  given  with  swords,  battle-axes,  and 
other  warlike  weapons.  The  king  of  France,  with  the  lord 
Philip  his  youngest  son,  attacked  the  division  of  the  marshals, 
the  earls  of  Warwick  and  Suffolk:  there  were  also  with  the 
marshals  some  Gascons,  such  as  the  captal  de  Buch,  the  lord  of 
Pumiers,  the  lord  Amery  de  Charree,  the  lord  of  Languran,  the 
lord  de  I'Estrade.  The  lord  John  de  Landas,  with  the  lord 
Theobald  de  Bodenay,  returning  in  good  time,  dismounted,  and 
joined  the  battalion  of  the  king.  On  one  side,  the  duke  of 
Athens,  constable  of  France,  was  engaged  with  his  division ; 
and,  a  little  higher  up,  the  duke  of  Bourbon,  surrounded  with 
good  knights,  from  the  Bourbonois  and  Picardy.  Near  to 
these  were  the  men  of  Poitou,  the  lord  de  Pons,  the  lord  de 
Partenay,  the  lord  de  Dampmaire,  the  lord  de  Montabouton, 
the  lord  de  Surgeres,  the  lord  John  de  Saintre,  the  lord  Guiscard 
d' Angle,  the  lord  d'Argenton,  the  lord  de  Linieres,  the  lord  de 
Montrande,  the  viscount  de  Rochechouart,  the  earl  of  Aulnoy. 
Many  others  were  also  engaged,  such  as  the  lord  James  de 
Beaujeu,  the  lord  of  Chateau-Villain,  and  other  knights  and 
squires  from  Burgundy.  In  another  part  were  the  earls  of 
Vantadour  and  Montpensier,  the  lord  James  de  Bourbon,  the 
lord  John  d'Artois,  and  the  lord  James  his  brother,  the  lord 
Arnold  de  Cervolle,  surnamed  the  Arch-priest,  armed  as  the 
young  earl  of  Alen9on.  There  were  also  from  Auvergne,  the 
lord  de  Marcueil,  the  lord  de  la  Tour,  the  lord  de  Chalenton, 
the  lord  de  Montague,  the  lord  de  Rochefort,  the  lord  de  la 
Chaire,  the  lord  d'Achon ;  and  from  Limousin,  the  lord  de 
Linal,  the  lord  de  Naruel,  and  the  lord  Pierre  de  Bufiiere. 
From  Picardy,  there  were  the  lord  William  de  Merle,  the  lord 


FROISSART.  63 

Arnold  de  Renneval,  the  lord  Geoffry  de  St.  Dizier,  the  lord  de 
Chauny,  the  lord  de  Hely,  the  lord  de  Monsant,  the  lord  de 
Hagnes,  and  many  others.  The  lord  Douglas,  from  Scotland, 
was  also  in  the  king's  battalion,  and  for  some  time  fought  very 
valiantly;  but,  when  he  perceived  that  the  discomfiture  was 
complete  on  the  side  of  the  French,  he  saved  himself  as  fast  as 
he  could ;  for  he  dreaded  so  much  being  taken  by  the  English, 
that  he  had  rather  have  been  slain. 

The  lord  James  Audley,  with  the  assistance  of  his  four  squires, 
was  always  engaged  in  the  heat  of  the  battle.  He  was  severely 
wounded  in  the  body,  head,  and  face ;  and  as  long  as  his  strength 
and  breath  permitted  him,  he  maintained  the  fight,  and  advanced 
forward :  he  continued  to  do  so  until  he  was  covered  with  blood : 
then,  towards  the  close  of  the  engagement,  his  four  squires,  who 
were  as  his  bodyguard,  took  him,  and  led  him  out  of  the  engage- 
ment, very  weak  and  wounded,  towards  a  hedge,  that  he  might 
cool  and  take  breath.  They  disarmed  him  as  gently  as  they 
could,  in  order  to  examine  his  wounds,  dress  them,  and  sew  up 
the  most  dangerous. 

King  John,  on  his  part,  proved  himself  a  good  knight ;  and,  if 
the  fourth  of  his  people  had  behaved  as  well,  the  day  would  have 
been  his  own.  Those,  however,  who  had  remained  with  him 
acquitted  themselves  to  the  best  of  their  power,  and  were  either 
slain  or  taken  prisoners.  Scarcely  any  who  were  with  the  king 
attempted  to  escape.  Among  the  slain  were  the  duke  Peter  de 
Bourbon,  the  duke  of  Athens,  constable  of  France,  the  bishop  of 
Chalons  in  Champagne,  the  lord  Guiscard  de  Beaujeu,  and  the 
lord  of  Landas.  The  Arch-priest,  sir  Theobald  de  Bodenay  and 
the  lord  of  Pompadour  were  made  prisoners,  badly  wounded. 
In  another  part  of  the  field  of  battle,  the  earls  of  Vaudemont  and 
Genville,  and  the  earl  of  Vendome,  were  prisoners.  Not  far 
from  that  spot  were  slain  the  lord  William  de  Nesleand  the  lord 
Eustace  de  Ribeaumont,  the  lord  de  la  Tour  and  the  lord 
William  de  Montagu.  The  lord  Lewis  de  Melval,  the  lord 
Pierre  de  Buffiere,  and  the  lord  de  Senerach  were  taken.  In 
this  engagement  upwards  of  two  hundred  knights  and  squires 
were  killed  or  captured.     A  band  of  Norman  knights  still  kept 


64  FROISSART 

up  the  battle,  in  another  part  of  the  field;  and  of  these,  sir 
Guinenton  de  Chambly  and  sir  Baudrin  de  la  House  were  slain: 
many  others  were  discomfited,  who  were  fighting  in  small  bodies. 

Among  the  battles,  skirmishes,  flights  and  pursuits,  which 
happened  in  the  course  of  this  day,  an  adventure  befell  sir 
Edward  de  Roucy,  which  I  cannot  omit  relating  in  this  place. 
He  had  left  the  field  of  battle,  as  he  perceived  the  day  was  irre- 
coverably lost ;  and,  not  wishing  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the 
English,  was  got  about  a  league  ofif;  when  he  was  pursued  by 
an  English  knight,  his  lance  in  the  rest,  who  cried  to  him,  "  Sir 
knight,  turn  about :  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  thus  to  fly."  Upon 
this,  sir  Edward  halted,  and  the  Englishman  attacked  him, 
thinking  to  fix  his  lance  in  his  target ;  but  he  failed,  for  sir 
Edward  turned  the  stroke  aside,  nevertheless  he  did  not  miss 
his  own:  with  his  spear  he  hit  his  enemy  so  violent  a  blow  on 
the  helmet,  that  he  was  stunned  and  fell  to  the  ground,  where 
he  remained  senseless.  Sir  Edward  dismounted,  and,  placing 
his  lance  on  his  breast,  told  him  that  he  would  certainly  kill 
him  if  he  did  not  surrender  himself  his  prisoner,  rescued  or  not. 
The  Englishman  surrendered,  and  went  with  sir  Edward,  who 
afterwards  ransomed  him. 

It  happened  that,  in  the  midst  of  the  general  pursuit,  a  squire 
from  Picardy,  named  John  de  Helennes,  had  quitted  the  king's 
division,  and,  meeting  his  page  with  a  fresh  horse,  had  mounted 
him,  and  made  ofl'as  fast  as  he  could.  At  that  time  there  was 
near  to  him  the  lord  of  Berkeley,  a  young  knight,  who,  for  the' 
first  time,  had  that  day  displayed  his  banner:  he  immediately 
set  out  in  pursuit  of  him.  When  the  lord  of  Berkeley  had 
followed  him  for  some  little  time,  John  de  Helennes  turned 
about,  put  his  sword  under  his  arm  in  the  manner  of  a  lance,  and 
thus  advanced  upon  the  lord  Berkeley,  who  taking  his  sword 
by  the  handle,  flourished  it,  and  lifted  up  his  arm  in  order  to 
strike  the  squire  as  he  passed.  John  de  Helennes,  seeing  th©-* 
intended  stroke,  avoided  it,  but  did  not  miss  his  own ;  for  a  J  ' 
they  passed  each  other,  by  a  blow  on  the  arm  he  made  lord 
Berkeley's  sword  fall  to  the  ground.  When  the  knight  found 
that  he  had  lost  his  sword,  and  that  the  squire  had  his,  he  dis- 


FROISSART.  65 

mounted,  and  made  for  the  place  where  his  sword  lay :  but  he 
could  not  get  there  before  the  squire  gave  him  a  violent  thrust 
which  passed  through  both  his  thighs,  so  that,  not  being  able  to 
..lip  himself,  he  fell  to  the  ground.  John  upon  this  dismounted, 
and,  seizing  the  sword  of  the  knight,  advanced  up  to  him  and 
asked  him  if  he  were  willing  to  surrender.  The  knight  required 
his  name:  "  I  am  called  John  de  Helennes,"  said  he,  "what  is 
your  name  ? "  "  In  truth,  companion,"  replied  the  knight,  "  my 
name  is  Thomas,  and  I  am  lord  of  Berkeley,  a  very  handsome 
castle  situated  on  the  river  Severn,  on  the  borders  of  Wales." 
"  Lord  of  Berkeley,"  said  the  squire,  "  you  shall  be  my  prisoner : 
I  will  place  you  in  safety,  and  take  care  you  are  healed,  for  you 
appear  to  me  to  be  badly  wounded.'"'  The  knight  answered,  "  I 
surrender  myself  willingly,  for  you  have  loyally  conquered  me." 
He  gave  him  his  word  that  he  would  be  his  prisoner,  rescued  or 
not.  John  then  drew  his  sword  out  of  the  knight's  thighs  and 
the  wounds  remained  open ;  but  he  bound  them  up  tightly,  and, 
placing  him  on  his  horse,  led  him  a  foot-pace  to  Chatelherault. 
He  continued  there,  out  of  friendship  to  him,  for  fifteen  days, 
and  had  medicines  administered  to  him.  When  the  knight  was 
a  little  recovered,  he  had  him  placed  in  a  litter,  and  conducted 
him  safe  to  his  house  in  Picardy;  where  he  remained  more  than 
a  year  before  he  was  quite  cured,  though  he  continued  lame ; 
and  when  he  departed  he  paid  for  his  ransom  six  thousand 
nobles,  so  that  this  squire  became  a  knight  by  the  great  profit 
he  got  from  the  lord  of  Berkeley. 

It  often  happens  that  fortune  in  war  and  love  turns  out  more 
favourable  and  wonderful  than  could  have  been  hoped  for  or 
expected.  To  say  the  truth,  this  battle  which  was  fought  near 
Poitiers,  in  the  plains  of  Beauvoir  and  Tvlaupertuis,  was  very 
bloody  and  perilous:  many  gallant  deeds  of  arms  were  per- 
formed that  were  never  known,  and  the  combatants  on  each 
-'de  suftered  much.  King  John  himself  did  wonders :  he  was 
a.-med  with  a  battle-axe,  with  which  he  fought  and  defended 
himself.  The  earl  of  Tancarville,  in  endeavouring  to  break 
through  the  crowd,  was  made  prisoner  close  to  him :  as  were 
also  sir  James  de  Bourbon,  earl  of  Ponthieu,  and  the  lord  John 

5 


66  IROISSART, 

d'Artois,  earl  of  Eu.  In  another  part,  a  little  farther  off,  the 
lord  Charles  d'Artois  and  many  other  knights  and  squires  were 
captured  by  the  division  under  the  banner  of  the  captal  -^  V 
Buch.  The  pursuit  continued  even  to  the  gates  of  Poitiers, 
where  there  was  much  slaughter  and  overthrow  of  men  and 
horses ;  for  the  inhabitants  of  Poitiers  had  shut  their  gates,  and 
would  suffer  none  to  enter:  upon  which  account  there  was 
great  butchery  on  the  causeway,  before  the  gate,  where  such 
numbers  were  killed  or  wounded,  that  several  surrendered 
themselves  the  moment  they  spied  an  Englishman ;  and  there 
were  many  English  archers  who  had  four,  five,  or  six  prisoners. 

The  lord  of  Pons,  a  powerful  baron  in  Poitou,  was  slain  there, 
as  were  several  other  knights  and  squires.  The  viscount  de 
Rochechouart,  the  lords  de  Partenay  and  de  Saintonge,  and  the 
lord  of  Montendre,  were  taken  prisoners:  as  was  the  lord  John 
de  Saintre,  but  so  beaten  that  he  never  afterwards  recovered  his 
health :  he  was  looked  upon  as  the  most  accomplished  knight 
in  France.  The  lord  Guiscard  d' Angle  was  left  for  slain  among 
the  dead:  he  had  fought  well  that  day.  The  lord  de  Chargny, 
who  was  near  the  king,  combated  bravely  during  the  whole 
engagement :  he  was  always  in  the  crowd,  because  he  carried 
the  king's  sovereign  banner:  his  own  also  was  displayed  in  the 
field,  with  his  arms,  which  were  three  escutcheons  argent  on  a 
field  gules.  The  English  and  Gascons  poured  so  fast  upon  the 
king's  division  that  they  broke  through  the  ranks  by  force;  and 
the  French  were  so  intermixed  with  their  enemies,  that  at  times 
there  were  five  men  attacking  one  gentleman.  The  lord  of 
Pompadour  and  the  lord  Bartholomew  de  Brunes  were  there 
captured.  The  lord  de  Chargny  was  slain,  with  the  banner  of 
France  in  his  hands,  by  the  lord  Reginald  Cobham ;  and  after- 
wards the  earl  of  Dammartin  shared  the  same  fate. 

There  was  much  pressing  at  this  time,  through  eagerness  to 
take  the  king;  and  those  who  were  nearest  to  him,  and  knew 
him,  cried  out,  "  Surrender  yourself,  surrender  yourself,  or  you 
are  a  dead  man."  In  that  part  of  the  field  was  a  young  knight 
from  St.  Omcr,  who  was  engaged  by  a  salary  in  the  service  of 
the  king  of  England;  his  name  was  Dcnys  de  Morbequc;  who 


FROISSART.  67 

for  five  years  had  attached  himself  to  the  English,  on  account 
of  having  been  banished  in  his  younger  days  from  France  for 
a  murder  committed  in  an  affray  at  St.  Omer.  It  fortunately 
happened  for  this  knight  that  he  was  at  the  time  near  to  the 
king  of  France,  when  he  was  so  much  pulled  about ;  he,  by  dint 
of  force,  for  he  was  very  strong  and  robust,  pushed  through  the 
crowd,  and  said  to  the  king  in  good  French,  "  Sire,  sire,  sur- 
render yourself."  The  king,  who  found  himself  very  disagree- 
ably situated,  turning  to  him,  asked,  "  To  whom  shall  1  surrender 
myself:  to  whom?  Where  is  my  cousin,  the  prince  of  Wales.? 
if  I  could  see  him,  I  would  speak  to  him."  "  Sire,"  replied  sir 
Dcnys,  "  he  is  not  here ;  but  surrender  yourself  to  me,  and  I 
will  lead  you  to  him."  "Who  are  you ?"  said  the  king.  " Sire, 
I  am  Denys  de  Morbeque,  a  knight  from  Artois ;  but  I  serve 
the  king  of  England,  because  I  cannot  belong  to  France,  having 
forfeited  all  I  possessed  there."  The  king  then  gave  him  his 
right  hand  glove,  and  said,  "  I  surrender  myself  to  you."  There 
was  much  crowding  and  pushing  about,  for  every  one  was  eager 
to  cry  out,  "  I  have  taken  him."  Neither  the  king  nor  his 
youngest  son  Philip  were  able  to  get  forward  and  free  them- 
selves from  the  throng. 

The  prince  of  Wales,  who  was  as  courageous  as  a  lion,  took 
great  delight  that  day  to  combat  his  enemies.  Sir  John 
Chandos,  who  was  near  his  person,  and  had  never  quitted  it 
during  the  whole  of  the  day,  nor  stopped  to  make  prisoners, 
said  to  him  towards  the  end  of  the  battle :  "  Sir,  it  will  be  proper 
for  you  to  halt  here,  and  plant  your  banner  on  the  top  of  this 
bush,  which  will  serve  to  rally  your  forces,  that  seem  very  much 
scattered;  for  I  do  not  see  any  banners  or  pennons  of  the 
French,  nor  any  considerable  bodies  able  to  rally  against  us; 
and  you  must  refresh  yourself  a  little,  as  I  perceive  you  are  very 
much  heated."  Upon  this  the  banner  of  the  prince  was  placed 
on  a  high  bush ;  the  minstrels  began  to  play,  and  trumpets  and 
clarions  to  do  their  duty.  The  prince  took  off  his  helmet,  and 
the  knights  attendant  on  his  person,  and  belonging  to  his 
chamber,  were  soon  ready,  and  pitched  a  small  pavilion  of 
crimson  colour,  which  the  prince  entered.     Liquor  was  then 


68  FROISSART, 

brought  to  him  and  the  other  knights  who  were  with  him ;  they 
increased  every  moment,  for  they  were  returning  from  the 
pursuit,  and  stopped  there  surrounded  by  their  prisoners. 

As  soon  as  the  two  marshals  were  come  back,  the  prince 
asked  them  if  they  knew  anything  of  the  king  of  France:  they 
repHed,  "  No,  sir,  not  for  a  certainty ;  but  we  believe  he  must 
be  either  killed  or  made  prisoner,  since  he  has  never  quitted  his 
battalion."  The  prince  then,  addressing  the  earl  of  Warwick 
and  lord  Cobham,  said,  "  I  beg  of  you  to  mount  your  horses 
and  ride  over  the  field,  so  that  on  your  return  you  may  bring 
me  some  certain  intelligence  of  him."  The  two  barons,  imme- 
diately mounting  their  horses,  left  the  prince,  and  made  for  a 
small  hillock,  that  they  might  look  about  them:  from  their 
stand  they  perceived  a  crowd  of  men-at-arms  on  foot,  who  were 
advancing  very  slowly.  The  king  of  France  was  in  the  midst 
of  them,  and  in  great  danger ;  for  the  English  and  Gascons  had 
taken  him  from  sir  Denys  de  Morbeque,  and  were  disputing 
who  should  have  him,  the  stoutest  bawling  out,  "  It  is  I  that 
have  got  him;"  "No,  no,"  replied  the  others,  "we  have  him." 
The  king,  to  escape  from  this  peril,  said,  "  Gentlemen,  gentle- 
men, I  pray  you  conduct  me  and  my  son  in  a  courteous  manner 
to  my  cousin  the  prince ;  and  do  not  make  such  a  riot  about  my 
capture,  for  I  am  so  great  a  lord  that  I  can  make  all  sufficiently 
rich."  These  words,  and  others  which  fell  from  the  king, 
appeased  them  a  little;  but  the  disputes  were  always  beginning 
again,  and  they  did  not  move  a  step  without  rioting.  When 
the  two  barons  saw  this  troop  of  people,  they  descended  from 
the  hillock,  and  sticking  spurs  into  their  horses,  made  up  to 
them.  On  their  arrival,  they  asked  what  was  the  matter;  they 
were  answered  that  it  was  the  king  of  France,  who  had  been 
made  prisoner,  and  that  upwards  of  ten  knights  and  squires 
challenged  him  at  the  same  time  as  belonging  to  each  of  them. 
The  two  barons  then  pushed  through  the  crowd  by  main  force, 
and  ordered  all  to  draw  aside.  They  commanded,  in  the  name 
of  the  prince,  and  under  pain  of  instant  death,  that  every  one 
should  keep  his  distance,  and  not  approach  unless  ordered  or 
desired  so  to  do.     They  all  retreated  behind  the  king;  and  the 


11 


FROISSART.  69 

two  barons,  dismounting,  advanced  to  the  king  with  profound 
reverences,  and  conducted  him  in  a  peaceable  manner  to  the 
prince  of  Wales. 

Soon  after  the  earl  of  Warwick  and  the  lord  Reginald  Cobham 
had  left  the  prince,  as  has  been  above  related,  he  inquired  from 
those  knights  who  were  about  him  of  lord  James  Audley,  and 
asked  if  any  one  knew  what  was  become  of  him.  "  Yes,  sir," 
replied  some  of  the  company,  "  he  is  very  badly  wounded,  and 
is  lying  in  a  litter  hard  by."  "  By  my  troth,"  replied  the  prince, 
"  I  am  sore  vexed  that  he  is  so  wounded.  See,  I  beg  of  you, 
if  he  be  able  to  bear  being  carried  hither;  otherwise  I  will  come 
and  visit  him."  Two  knights  directly  left  the  prince,  and, 
coming  to  lord  James,  told  him  how  desirous  the  prince  was  of 
seeing  him.  "  A  thousand  thanks  to  the  prince,"  answered  lord 
James,  "for  condescending  to  remember  so  poor  a  knight  as 
myself."  He  then  called  eight  of  his  servants,  and  had  himself 
borne  in  his  litter  to  where  the  prince  was.  When  he  was  come 
into  his  presence,  the  prince  bent  down  over  him  and  embraced 
him,  saying,  "  My  lord  James,  I  am  bound  to  honour  you  very 
much;  for,  by  your  valour  this  day,  you  have  acquired  glory 
and  renown  above  us  all,  and  your  prowess  has  proved  you  the 
bravest  knight."  Lord  James  replied,  "  My  lord,  you  have  a 
right  to  say  whatever  you  please,  but  I  wish  it  were  as  you  have 
said.  If  I  have  this  day  been  forward  to  serve  you,  it  has  been 
to  accomplish  a  voav  that  I  had  made,  and  it  ought  not  to  be 
thought  so  much  of."  "  Sir  James,"  answered  the  prince,  "  I 
and  all  the  rest  of  us  deem  you  the  bravest  knight  on  our  side 
in  this  battle;  and  to  increase  your  renown,  and  furnish  you 
withal  to  pursue  your  career  of  glory  in  war,  I  retain  you  hence- 
forward, for  ever,  as  my  knight,  with  five  hundred  marks  of 
yearly  revenue,  which  I  will  secure  to  you  from  my  estates  in 
England."  "  Sir,"  said  lord  James,  "  God  make  me  deserving 
of  the  good  fortune  you  bestow  upon  me."  At  these  words  he 
took  leave  of  the  prince,  as  he  was  very  weak,  and  his  servants 
carried  him  back  to  his  tent :  he  could  not  have  been  at  a  great 
distance  when  the  earl  of  Warwick  and  lord  Reginald  Cobham 
entered  the  pavilion  of  the  prince,  and  presented  the  king  of 


70  FROISSART. 

France  to  him.  The  prince  made  a  very  low  obeisance  to  the 
king,  and  gave  him  as  much  comfort  as  he  was  able,  which  he 
knew  well  how  to  administer.  He  ordered  wine  and  spices  to 
be  brought,  which  he  presented  to  the  king  himself,  as  a  mark 
of  his  great  affection. 

Thus  was  this  battle  won,  as  you  have  heard  related,  in  the 
plains  of  Maupertuis,  two  leagues  from  the  city  of  Poitiers,  on 
the  19th  day  of  September,  1356.  It  commenced  about  nine 
o'clock,  and  was  ended  by  noon ;  but  the  English  were  not  all 
returned  from  the  pursuit,  and  it  was  to  recall  his  people  that 
the  prince  had  placed  his  banner  upon  a  high  bush.  They  did 
not  return  till  late  after  vespers  from  pursuing  the  enemy.  It 
was  reported  that  all  the  flower  of  French  knighthood  were 
slain;  and  that,  with  the  king  and  his  son  the  lord  Philip, 
seventeen  earls,  without  counting  barons,  knights,  or  squires, 
were  made  prisoners,  and  from  five  to  six  thousand  of  all  sorts 
left  dead  in  the  field.  When  they  were  all  collected,  they  found 
they  had  twice  as  many  prisoners  as  themselves ;  they  therefore 
consulted  if,  considering  the  risk  they  might  run,  it  would  not 
be  more  advisable  to  ransom  them  on  the  spot.  This  was  done  ; 
and  the  prisoners  found  the  English  and  Gascons  very  civil,  for 
there  were  many  set  at  liberty  that  day  on  their  promise  of 
coming  to  Bordeaux  before  Christmas  to  pay  their  ransom. 

When  all  were  returned  to  their  banners,  they  retired  to  their 
camp,  which  was  adjoining  to  the  field  of  battle.  Some  dis- 
armed themselves,  and  did  the  same  to  their  prisoners,  to 
whom  they  showed  every  kindness ;  for  whoever  made  any 
prisoners,  they  were  solely  at  his  disposal,  to  ransom  or  not, 
as  he  pleased.  It  may  be  easily  supposed  that  all  those  who 
accompanied  the  prince  were  very  rich  in  glory  and  wealth,  as 
well  by  the  ransoms  of  his  prisoners  as  by  the  quantities  of  gold 
and  silver  plate,  rich  jewels,  and  trunks  stuffed  full  of  belts, 
that  were  weighty  from  their  gold  and  silver  ornaments,  and 
furred  mantles.  They  set  no  value  on  armour,  tents,  or  other 
things ;  for  the  French  had  come  there  as  magnificently  and 
richly  dressed  as  if  they  had  been  sure  of  gaining  the  victory. 

When  the  lord  James  Audley  was  brought  back  to  his  tent, 


FROISSART.  7t 

after  having  most  respectfully  thanked  the  prince  for  his  gift, 
he  did  not  remain  long  before  he  sent  for  his  brother  sir  Peter 
Audley,  the  lord  Bartholomew  Burgherst,  sir  Stephen  Coffing- 
ton,  lord  Willoughby  of  Eresby,  and  lord  William  Ferrers  of 
Groby:  they  were  all  his  relations.  He  then  sent  for  his  four 
squires  that  had  attended  upon  him  that  day,  and,  addressing 
himself  to  the  knights,  said:  "Gentlemen,  it  has  pleased  my 
lord  the  prince  to  give  me  five  hundred  marks  as  a  yearly 
inheritance ;  for  which  gift  I  have  done  him  very  trifling  bodily 
service.  You  see  here  these  four  squires,  who  have  always 
served  me  most  loyally,  and  especially  in  this  day's  engage- 
ment What  glory  I  may  have  gained  has  been  through  their 
means,  and  by  their  valour;  on  which  account  I  wish  to  reward 
them.  I  therefore  give  and  resign  into  their  hands  the  gift  of 
five  hundred  marks  which  my  lord  the  prince  has  been  pleased 
to  bestow  on  me,  in  the  same  form  and  manner  that  it  has  been 
presented  to  me.  I  disinherit  myself  of  it,  and  give  it  to  them 
simply,  and  without  a  possibility  of  revoking  it."  The  knights 
present  looked  on  each  other,  and  said,  "  It  is  becoming  the 
noble  mind  of  lord  James  to  make  such  a  gift;"  and  then 
unanimously  added,  "  May  the  Lord  God  remember  you  for  it ! 
We  will  bear  witness  of  this  gift  to  them  wheresoever  and 
whensoever  they  may  call  on  us."  They  then  took  leave  of 
him ;  when  some  went  to  the  prince  of  Wales,  who  that  night 
was  to  give  a  supper  to  the  king  of  France  from  his  own 
provisions  ;  for  the  French  had  brought  vast  quantities  with 
them,  which  were  now  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  English, 
many  of  whom  had  not  tasted  bread  for  the  last  three  days. 

When  evening  was  come,  the  prince  of  Wales  gave  a  supper 
in  his  pavilion  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 


72  FROISSART. 

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  honour,  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  honour  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  unani- 
mously 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. 

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  for- 
tunes; 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.  Towards  morning,  when  these 
lords  had  heard  mass,  and  had  eaten  and  drank  a  little,  whilst 
the  servants  were  packing  up  or  loading  the  baggage,  they 
decamped  and  advanced  towards  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  Chau- 


FROISSART.  73 

vigny,  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  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,  with- 
out 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  countiy.  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  ser\'ices ; 
and  never  in  this  life  were  they  of  such  help  to  me  as  on  that 


74  FROISSART. 

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,  1  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,  there- 
fore, 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  con- 
trary, 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  Gas- 
cony  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  Gas- 
cony,  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  eciual 


i 


FROISSART.  75 

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  anything  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. 


THE  JACQUERIE. 

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  neighbourhood  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,  as  a  truth,  and  added,  shame  befall  him  that 
should  be  the  means  of  preventing  the  gentlemen  from  being 
wholly  destroyed.  They  then,  without  further  council,  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,  and,  having  tied  him  to  a  stake, 
many  of  them  violated  his  wife  and  daughter  before  his  eyes : 
Ihey  then   murdered  the  lady,  her  daughter,  and    the   other 


76  FROISSART. 

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  in- 
creased so  much,  that  they  were  in  a  short  time  upwards  of  six 
thousand :  wherever  they  went  they  received  additions,  for  all 
their  rank  in  life  followed  them,  whilst  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,  murdered 
every  gentleman,  and  violated  every  lady  and  damsel  they  could 
find.  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  on  the  persons  of  the  ladies. 

Among  other  infamous  acts,  they  murdered  a  knight ;  and, 
having  fastened  him  to  a  spit,  roasted  him  before  the  eyes  of  his 
wife  and  his  children,  and,  after  ten  or  twelve  had  violated  her, 
they  forced  her  to  eat  some  of  her  husband's  flesh,  and  then 
knocked  her  brains  out.  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  James  Goodman. 
These  wretches  burnt  and  destroyed  in  the  country  of  Beauvoisis, 
and  at  Corbie,  Amiens,  and  Montdidier,  upwards  of  sixty  good 
houses  and  strong  castles.  By  the  acts  of  such  traitors  in  the 
country  of  Brie  and  thereabout,  it  behoved  every  lady,  knight, 
and  squire,  having  the  means  of  escape,  to  fly  to  Meaux,  if  they 
wished  to  preserve  themselves  from  being  insulted,  and  after- 
wards murdered.  The  duchess  of  Normandy,  the  duchess  of 
Orleans,  and  many  other  ladies,  had  adopted  this  course  to  save 
themselves  from  violation.  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  upwards 


FROISSART.  77 

of  one  hundred  castles  and  good  houses  of  knights  and  squires 
destroyed. 

When  the  gentlemen  of  Beauvoisis,  Corbie,  Vermandois,  and 
of  the  lands  where  these  wretches  were  associated,  saw  to  what 
lengths  their  madness  had  extended,  they  sent  for  succour  to 
their  friends  in  Flanders,  Hainault,  and  Bohemia:  from  which 
places  numbers  soon  came,  and  united  themselves  with  the 
gentlemen  of  the  country.  They  began  therefore  to  kill  and 
destroy  these  wretches  wherever  they  met  them,  and  hung  them 
up  by  troops  on  the  nearest  trees.  The  king  of  Navarre  even 
destroyed  in  one  day,  near  Clermont  in  Beauvoisis,  upwards  of 
three  thousand :  but  they  were  by  this  time  so  much  increased 
in  number,  that  had  they  been  altogether,  they  would  have 
amounted  to  more  than  one  hundred  thousand.  When  they 
were  asked  for  what  reason  they  acted  so  wickedly,  they  replied 
they  knew  not,  but  they  did  so  because  they  saw  others  do  it ; 
and  they  thought  that  by  this  means  they  should  destroy  all  the 
nobles  and  gentlemen  in  the  world. 

At  the  time  these  wicked  men  were  overrunning  the  country, 
the  earl  of  Foix  and  his  cousin  the  captal  of  Buch  were  return- 
ing 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  Normandy,  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  reinforce  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 


78  FROISSART, 

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  towards  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  upwards  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,  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. 


FJ^OISSART.  79 


DEATH   OF  SIR   JOHN   CHANDOS. 

Sir  John  Chandos,  being  seneschal  of  Poitou,  was  seriously 
afflicted  with  the  loss  of  St.  Salvin  :  he  was  continually  devising 
means  to  retake  it,  whether  by  assault  or  by  escalade  was  per- 
fectly indifferent  to  him,  so  that  he  could  gain  it.  He  made 
many  nightly  ambuscades,  but  none  succeeded ;  for  sir  Louis, 
who  commanded  in  it,  was  ver>'  watchful,  as  he  knew  the 
capture  of  it  had  highly  angered  sir  John  Chandos.  It  happened 
that,  on  the  night  preceding  the  eve  of  the  new  year  (1370),  sir 
John  Chandos,  who  resided  in  the  city  of  Poitiers,  had  sent  out 
his  summons  to  the  barons  and  knights  of  Poitou  to  come  to 
him  as  secretly  as  they  could,  for  he  was  going  on  an  expedi- 
tion. The  Poitevins  would  not  refuse  him  anything,  being 
much  beloved  by  them :  they  obeyed  his  summons,  and  came 
to  Poitiers.  Sir  Guiscard  d' Angle,  sir  Louis  de  Harcourt,  the 
lords  de  Pons,  de  Partenay,  de  Pinane,  de  Tannaybouton,  sir 
Geoffr}'  d'Argenton,  sir  Tvlaubrun  de  Linieres,  lord  Thomas 
Percy,  sir  Baldwin  de  Franville,  sir  Richard  de  Pontchardon, 
came  thither,  with  many  others.  When  they  were  all  assembled, 
they  were  full  three  hundred  lances. 

They  left  Poitiers  in  the  night,  and  no  one,  except  the 
principal  lords,  knew  whither  they  were  going.  The  English, 
however,  had  scaling-ladders  and  everything  they  might  have 
occasion  for  with  them.  They  marched  to  St,  Salvin;  and, 
when  there  arrived,  were  told  what  was  intended;  upon  which 
they  all  dismounted,  and,  giving  the  horses  to  their  valets,  the 
EngHsh  descended  into  the  ditch.  It  was  then  about  midnight. 
They  were  in  this  situation,  and  would  very  shortly  have  suc- 
ceeded in  their  expedition,  when  they  heard  the  guard  of  the  fort 
wind  his  horn.  The  reason  was  this.  That  very  night  Camet 
le  Breton  had  come  from  la  Roche-Posay,  with  forty  lances,  to 
St.  Salvin,  to  request  sir  Louis  de  St.  Julien  to  accompany  him 
in  an  expedition  to  Poitou :  he  therefore  awakened  the  guard 
and  those  within  the  fort. 

The  English,  who  were   on  the  opposite  side,  ignorant  of 


8o  FROISSART. 

the  intentions  of  this  body  of  Frenchmen  wanting  to  enter 
the  fort,  thought  they  had  been  seen  by  the  guard,  or  that 
spies  had  given  information  of  their  arrival  to  the  garrison. 
They  immediately  left  the  ditch,  and  said,  "  Let  us  away ; 
for  this  night  we  have  been  disappointed  in  our  scheme." 
They  mounted  their  horses,  and  advanced  in  a  body  to 
Chauvigny  on  the  river  Creuse,  two  short  leagues  distant. 
When  all  were  arrived  there,  the  Poitevins  asked  sir  John 
Chandos  if  he  wished  them  to  remain  with  him:  he  answered, 
"  No,  you  may  return  in  God's  name :  I  will  to-day  stay  in 
this  town."  The  Poitevins  departed,  and  with  them  some 
English  knights ;  in  all,  about  two  hundred  lances. 

Sir  John  Chandos  entered  an  hotel,  and  ordered  a  fire  to  be 
lighted.  Lord  Thomas  Percy,  seneschal  of  la  Rochelle,  and 
his  men,  remained  with  him.  Lord  Thomas  asked  sir  John 
Chandos  if  he  intended  staying  there  that  day :  "  Yes,"  replied 
sir  John;  "why  do  you  ask?"  "Because,  sir,  if  you  be  de- 
termined not  to  go  further,  I  shall  beg  of  you  to  give  me  leave 
to  make  an  excursion,  to  see  if  I  shall  meet  with  any  adventure." 
"  In  the  name  of  God,  go  then,"  replied  sir  John.  At  these 
words,  lord  Thomas  Percy  set  out,  attended  by  about  thirty 
lances.  Sir  John  Chandos  remained  with  his  own  people. 
Lord  Thomas  crossed  the  bridge  of  Chauvigny,  taking  the 
longest  road  to  Poitiers,  having  left  sir  John  Chandos  quite 
low-spirited  for  having  failed  in  his  intended  attack  on  St. 
Salvin.  He  continued  in  the  kitchen  of  the  hotel,  warming 
himself  at  a  straw  fire  which  his  herald  was  making  for  him, 
conversing  at  the  same  time  with  his  people,  who  very  readily 
passed  their  jokes  in  hopes  of  curing  him  of  his  melancholy. 
After  he  had  remained  some  time,  and  was  preparing  to  take  a 
little  rest,  and  while  he  was  asking  if  it  were  yet  day,  a  man 
entered  the  hotel,  and  came  before  him,  saying,  "My  lord,  I 
bring  you  news."  "What  is  it?"  asked  sir  John.  "  My  lord, 
the  French  have  taken  the  field."  "  How  dost  thou  know  this  ?" 
"  My  lord,  I  set  out  from  St.  Salvin  with  them."  "  And  what 
road  have  they  taken?"  "My  lord,  that  I  cannot  say  for  a 
certainty;   but  it   seemed   to   me    they  followed  the   road  to 


FROISSART.  8 1 

Poitiers."  "And  who  are  these  French  ?"  "  My  lord,  they  are 
sir  Louis  de  St.  Julien  and  Carnet  le  Breton,  with  their  com- 
panies." "Well,  it  is  indifterent  to  me,"  replied  sir  John:  "  I 
have  not  any  inclination  to  exert  myself  this  day ;  they  may  be 
met  with  without  my  interference."  He  remained  a  consider- 
able time  very  thoughtful;  after  having  well  considered,  he 
added:  "Notwithstanding  what  I  have  just  said,  I  think  I  shall 
do  right  to  mount  my  horse;  for  at  all  events  I  must  return  to 
Poitiers,  and  it  will  be  soqq  day."  "  It  is  well  judged,"  replied 
the  knights  who  were  with  him.  Sir  John  ordered  everything 
to  be  got  ready,  and  his  knights  having  done  the  same,  they 
mounted  and  set  off,  taking  the  road  to  Poitiers,  following  the 
course  of  the  river.  The  French  might  be  about  a  good  league 
before  them  on  this  same  road,  intending  to  cross  the  river  at 
the  bridge  of  Lussac.  The  English  suspected  this  from  per- 
ceiving the  tracks  of  the  horses,  and  said  among  themselves, 
"  Either  the  French  or  lord  Thomas  Percy  are  just  before  us." 
Shortly  after  this  conversation,  day  appeared ;  for  in  the  early 
part  of  January  the  mornings  begin  to  be  soon  light.  The 
French  might  be  about  a  league  from  the  bridge  of  Lussac, 
when  they  perceived  lord  Thomas  Percy  and  his  men  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river.  Lord  Thomas  had  before  seen  them, 
and  had  set  off  full  gallop  to  gain  the  bridge.  They  said, 
"  There  are  the  French :  they  are  more  in  number  than  we  are; 
let  us  hasten  to  take  advantage  of  the  bridge."  When  sir 
Louis  and  Carnet  saw  the  English  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
river,  they  also  made  haste  to  gain  the  bridge :  however,  the 
English  arrived  first,  and  were  masters  of  it.  They  all  dis- 
mounted, and  drew  themselves  up  to  defend  and  guard  it. 
The  French  likewise  dismounted  on  their  arrival,  and  giving 
their  horses  for  the  servants  to  lead  them  to  the  rear,  took  their 
lances,  and  advanced  in  good  order,  to  attack  the  English  and 
win  the  bridge.  The  English  stood  firm,  although  they  were  so 
few  in  comparison  with  the  enemy. 

Whilst  the  French  and  Bretons  were  considering  the  most 
advantageous  manner  to  begin  the  onset,  sir  John  Chandos 
arrives  with  his  company,  his  banner  displayed  and  flying  in 

6 


82  FROISSART. 

the  wind.  This  was  borne  by  a  valiant  man-at-arms,  called 
James  Allen,  and  was  a  pile  gules  on  a  field  argent.  They 
might  be  about  forty  lances,  who  eagerly  hastened  to  meet  the 
French.  As  the  English  arrived  at  a  small  hillock,  about  three 
furlongs  from  the  bridge,  the  French  servants,  who  were 
between  this  hillock  and  the  bridge,  saw  them,  and,  being 
much  frightened,  said,  "  Come  away :  let  us  save  ourselves  and 
our  horses."  They  therefore  ran  off,  leaving  their  masters  to  shift 
as  well  as  they  could.  When  sir  John  Chandos,  with  displayed 
banner,  was  come  up  to  the  French,  whom  he  thought  very 
lightly  of,  he  began  from  horseback  to  rail  at  them,  saying: 
*'  Do  you  hear.  Frenchmen  !  you  are  mischievous  men-at-arms ; 
you  make  incursions  night  and  day  at  your  pleasure ;  you  take 
towns  and  castles  in  Poitou,  of  which  I  am  seneschal.  You 
ransom  poor  people  without  my  leave,  as  if  the  country  were 
your  own ;  but,  by  God,  it  is  not.  Sir  Louis,  sir  Louis,  you  and 
Garnet  are  too  much  the  masters.  It  is  upwards  of  a  year  and 
a  half  that  I  have  been  endeavouring  to  meet  you.  Now,  thanks 
to  God,  I  do  so,  and  will  tell  you  my  mind.  We  will  now  try 
which  of  us  is  the  strongest  in  this  country.  It  has  been  often 
told  me,  that  you  were  very  desirous  of  seeing  me ;  you  have 
now  that  pleasure.  I  am  John  Chandos  :  look  at  me  well ;  and, 
if  God  please,  we  will  now  put  to  the  proof  your  great  deeds  of 
arms  which  are  so  renowned."  With  such  words  as  these  did 
sir  John  Chandos  greet  them:  he  would  not  have  wished  to 
have  been  anywhere  eJse,  so  eager  was  he  to  fight  with  them. 

Sir  Louis  and  Garnet  kept  themselves  in  a  close  body,  as  if 
they  were  willing  to  engage.  Lord  Thomas  Percy  and  the 
English  on  the  other  side  of  the  bridge  knew  nothing  of  what 
had  passed,  for  the  bridge  was  very  high  in  the  middle,  which 
prevented  them  from  seeing  over  it.  During  this  scoffing  of 
sir  John  Chandos,  a  Breton  drew  his  sword,  and  could  not 
resist  from  beginning  the  battle:  he  struck  an  English  squire, 
named  Simkin  Dodenhale,  and  beat  him  so  much  about  the 
breast  with  his  sword  that  he  knocked  him  off  his  horse  on  the 
ground.  Sir  John  Chandos,  who  heard  the  noise  behind  him, 
turned  round,  and  saw  his  squire  on  the  j^nound  and  persons 


FROISSART.  83 

beating  him.  This  enraged  him  more  than  before :  he  said  to 
his  men,  "Sirs,  what  are  you  about?  how  suffer  you  this  man  to 
be  slain?  Dismount,  dismount;"  and  at  the  instant  he  was  on 
foot,  as  were  all  his  company.  Simkin  was  rescued,  and  the 
battle  began. 

Sir  John  Chandos,  who  was  a  strong  and  bold  knight,  and 
cool  in  all  his  undertakings,  had  his  banner  advanced  before 
him,  surrounded  by  his  men,  with  the  scutcheon  above  his 
arms.  He  himself  was  dressed  in  a  large  robe  which  fell  to 
the  ground,  blazoned  with  his  arms  on  white  sarcenet,  argent, 
a  pile  gules;  one  on  his  breast,  and  the  other  on  his  back  ;  so 
that  he  appeared  resolved  on  some  adventurous  undertaking; 
and  in  this  state,  with  sword  in  hand,  he  advanced  on  foot 
towards  the  enemy. 

This  morning  there  had  been  a  hoar-frost,  which  had  made 
the  ground  slippery ;  so  that  as  he  marched  he  entangled  his 
legs  with  his  robe,  which  was  of  the  longest,  and  made  a 
stumble;  during  which  time  a  squire,  called  James  de  St. 
Martin  (a  strong  expert  man),  made  a  thrust  at  him  with  his 
lance,  which  hit  him  in  the  face,  below  the  eye,  between  the 
nose  and  forehead.  Sir  John  Chandos  did  not  see  the  aim  of 
the  stroke,  for  he  had  lost  the  eye  on  that  side  five  years  ago, 
on  the  heaths  of  Bordeaux,  at  the  chase  of  a  stag :  what  added 
to  this  misfortune,  sir  John  had  not  put  down  his  vizor,  so  that 
in  stumbling  he  bore  upon  the  lance,  and  helped  it  to  enter  into 
him.  The  lance,  which  had  been  struck  from  a  strong  arm,  hit 
him  so  severely  that  it  entered  as  far  as  the  brain,  and  then  the 
squire  drew  it  back  to  him  again. 

The  great  pain  was  too  much  for  sir  John,  so  he  fell  to  the 
ground,  and  turned  twice  over  in  great  agony,  like  one  who  had 
received  his  death-wound.  Indeed,  since  the  blow,  he  never 
uttered  a  word.  His  people,  on  seeing  this  mishap,  were  like 
madmen.  His  uncle,  sir  Edward  Clifford,  hastily  advanced, 
and  striding  over  the  body  (for  the  French  were  endeavouring 
to  get  possession  of  it),  defended  it  most  valiantly,  and  gave  such 
well-directed  blows  with  his  sword  that  none  dared  to  apnroach 
him.     Two  other  knights,  namely,  sir  John  Chambo  and  sir 


84  FR  DISS  ART. 

Bertrand  de  Cassilies,  were  like  men  distracted  at  seeing  their 
master  lie  thus  on  the  ground. 

The  Bretons,  who  were  more  numerous  than  the  English, 
were  much  rejoiced  when  they  saw  their  chief  thus  prostrate, 
and  greatly  hoped  he  was  mortally  wounded.  They  therefore 
advanced,  crying  out,  "  By  God,  my  lords  of  England,  you  will 
all  stay  with  us,  for  you  cannot  now  escape."  The  English  per- 
formed wonderful  feats  of  arms,  as  well  to  extricate  themselves 
from  the  danger  they  were  in  as  to  revenge  their  commander,  sir 
John  Chandos,  whom  they  saw  in  so  piteous  a  state.  A  squire 
attached  to  sir  John  marked  out  this  James  de  St.  Martin,  who 
had  given  the  blow ;  he  fell  upon  him  in  such  a  rage,  and  struck 
him  with  his  lance  as  he  was  flying,  that  he  ran  him  through 
both  his  thighs,  and  then  withdrew  his  lance :  however,  in  spite 
of  this,  James  de  St.  Martin  continued  the  fight.  Now  if 
lord  Thomas  Percy,  who  had  first  arrived  at  the  bridge,  had 
imagined  anything  of  what  was  going  forwards,  sir  John 
Chandos's  men  would  have  been  considerably  reinforced;  but 
it  was  otherwise  decreed:  for  not  hearing  anything  of  the 
Bretons  since  he  had  seen  them  advancing  in  a  large  body 
towards  the  bridge,  he  thought  they  might  have  retreated ;  so 
that  lord  Thomas  and  his  men  continued  their  march,  keeping 
the  road  to  Poitiers,  ignorant  of  what  was  passing. 

Though  the  English  fought  so  bravely  at  the  bridge  of  Lussac, 
in  the  end  they  could  not  withstand  the  force  of  the  Bretons 
and  French,  but  were  defeated,  and  the  greater  part  made 
prisoners.  Sir  Edward  Clifford  stood  firm,  and  would  not  quit 
the  body  of  his  nephew.  If  the  French  had  had  their  horses,  they 
would  have  gone  off  with  honour,  and  have  carried  with  them 
good  prisoners ;  but,  as  I  have  before  said,  their  servants  had 
gone  away  with  them.  Those  of  the  English  also  had  retreated, 
and  quitted  the  scene  of  battle.  They  remained  there- 
fore in  bad  plight,  which  sorely  vexed  them,  and  said 
among  themselves,  "  This  is  a  bad  piece  of  business :  the  field 
is  our  own,  and  yet  we  cannot  return  through  the  fault  of  our 
servants.  It  is  not  proper  for  us  who  are  armed  and  fatigued  to 
march  through  this  country  on  foot,  which  is  quite  against  us; 


FRoissAin:  85 

and  we  are  upwards  of  six  leagues  from  the  nearest  of  any  of 
our  fortresses.  We  have,  besides,  our  wounded  and  slain, 
whom  we  cannot  leave  behind."  As  they  were  in  this  situation, 
not  knowing  what  to  do,  and  had  sent  off  two  or  three  of  the 
Bretons,  disarmed,  to  hunt  after  and  endeavour  to  find  their 
servants,  they  perceived  advancing  towards  them,  sir  Guiscard 
d'Angle,  sir  Louis  de  Harcourt,  the  lords  dc  Partenay,  de 
Tannaybouton,  d'Argenton,  de  Pinane,  sir  James  de  Surgeres, 
and  several  others.  They  were  full  two  hundred  lances,  and 
were  seeking  for  the  French;  for  they  had  received  information 
that  they  were  out  on  an  excursion,  and  were  then  following  the 
traces  of  their  horses.  They  came  forwards,  therefore,  with 
displayed  banners  fluttering  in  the  wind,  and  marching  in  a 
disorderly  manner. 

The  moment  the  Bretons  and  French  saw  them  they  knew 
them  for  their  enemies,  the  barons  and  knights  of  Poitou. 
They  therefore  said  to  the  English:  "You  see  that  body  of 
men  coming  to  your  assistance :  we  know  we  cannot  withstand 
them ;  therefore,"  calling  each  by  his  name,  "  you  are  our 
prisoners ;  but  we  give  you  your  liberty,  on  condition  that  you 
take  care  to  keep  us  company ;  and  we  surrender  ourselves  to 
you,  for  we  have  it  more  at  heart  to  give  ourselves  up  to  you 
than  to  those  who  are  coming."  They  answered,  "  God's  will 
be  done."  The  English  thus  obtained  their  liberty.  The 
Poitevins  soon  arrived,  with  their  lances  in  their  rests,  shouting 
their  war-cries ;  but  the  Bretons  and  French,  retreating  on  one 
side,  said,  "  Holla  !  stop,  my  lords ;  we  are  prisoners  already." 
The  English  testified  to  the  truth  of  this  by  adding,  "  It  is  so; 
they  belong  to  us."  Garnet  was  prisoner  to  sir  Bertram  de 
Cassilies,  and  sir  Louis  de  St.  Julien  to  sir  John  Ghambo :  there 
was  not  one  who  had  not  his  master. 

These  barons  and  knights  of  Poitou  were  struck  with  grief 
when  they  saw  their  seneschal,  sir  John  Ghandos,  lying  in  so 
doleful  a  way,  and  not  able  to  speak.  They  began  grievously 
to  lament  his  loss,  saying,  "Flower  of  knighthood !  oh,  sir  John 
Chandos  !  cursed  be  the  forging  of  that  lance  which  wounded 
thee,  and  which  has  thus  endangered  thy  life."      Those  who 


86  FROISSART. 

were  around  the  body  most  tenderly  bewailed  him,  which  he 
heard,  and  answered  with  groans,  but  could  not  articulate  a 
word.  They  wrung  their  hands,  and  tore  their  hair,  uttering 
cries  and  complaints,  more  especially  those  who  belonged  to 
his  household. 

Sir  John  Chandos  was  disarmed  very  gently  by  his  own 
servants,  laid  upon  shields  and  targets,  and  carried  at  a  foot's 
pace  to  Mortemer,  the  nearest  fort  to  the  place  where  they 
were.  The  other  barons  and  knights  returned  to  Poitiers, 
carrying  with  them  their  prisoners.  I  heard  that  James  Martin, 
he  who  had  wounded  sir  John  Chandos,  suffered  so  much  from 
his  wounds  that  he  died  at  Poitiers.  That  gallant  knight  only 
survived  one  day  and  night.  God  have  mercy  on  his  soul !  for 
never  since  a  hundred  years  did  there  exist  among  the  English 
one  more  courteous,  nor  fuller  of  every  virtue  and  good  quality 
than  him. 

When  the  prince,  princess,  earls  of  Cambridge  and  Pembroke, 
and  the  other  English  knights  in  Guienne  heard  of  this  event, 
they  were  completely  disconcerted,  and  said  they  had  now  lost 
everything  on  both  sides  of  the  sea.  Sir  John  was  sincerely 
regretted  by  his  friends  of  each  sex ;  and  some  lords  of  France 
bewailed  his  loss.  Thus  it  happens  through  life.  The  English 
loved  him  for  all  the  excellent  qualities  he  was  possessed  of. 
The  French  hated  him  because  they  were  afraid  of  him.  Not 
but  that  I  have  heard  him  at  the  time  regretted  by  renowned 
knights  in  France;  for  they  said  it  was  a  great  pity  he  was 
slain,  and  that,  if  he  could  have  been  taken  prisoner,  he  was  so 
wise  and  full  of  devices,  he  would  have  found  some  means 
of  establishing  a  peace  between  France  and  England;  and 
was  so  much  beloved  by  the  king  of  England  and  his  court, 
that  they  would  have  believed  what  he  should  have  said  in 
preference  to  all  others.  Thus  were  the  French  and  English 
great  losers  by  his  death,  for  never  have  I  heard  otherwise ;  but 
the  English  the  most,  for  by  his  valour  and  prudence  Guienne 
might  have  been  totally  recovered. 


FROTSSART.  87 

AFFAIRS   IN   AFRICA. 

I  will  say  something  of  the  Saracens,  for  it  is  but  just  they 
should  be  equally  spoken  of  as  the  Christians,  that  the  truth 
may  be  more  apparent.  You  must  know  that  these  infidels  had, 
for  a  long  time,  been  menaced  by  the  Genoese,  and  were  expect- 
ing the  town  of  Africa  to  be  besieged,  in  which  they  were 
not  disappointed.  They  had  made  preparations  for  resist- 
ance, when  they  heard  of  the  arrival  of  the  Christian  fleet, 
an  event  that  had  been  long  looked  for  by  the  neighbour- 
ing nations ;  for  they  are  not  prudent  nor  well  advised  who 
fear  not  their  enemies,  however  small  they  may  be.  The 
Saracens,  however,  do  not  hold  the  Christians  cheap:  on  the 
contrar)',  they  consider  them  as  men  of  courage  and  enterprise, 
and  much  fear  them.  The  better  to  resist  their  enemies,  they 
assembled  the  most  experienced  warriors  from  the  kingdoms  of 
Bugia,  Morocco,  and  Tunis,  in  which  last  the  tow^n  of  Africa  is 
situated,  and  encamped  on  the  downs  near  the  sea-shore.  They 
took  advantage  of  a  large  and  thick  wood  in  their  rear,  to  avoid 
any  danger  from  ambuscades  or  skirmishes  on  that  side.  The 
Saracens  showed  much  ability  in  thus  posting  themselves. 
They  amounted,  according  to  the  estimate  of  able  men-at- 
arms,  to  thirty  thousand  archers  and  ten  thousand  horse. 
Others  thought  they  were  more ;  but  their  exact  numbers  were 
unknown,  for  the  Christians  supposed  many  were  lodged  in  the 
wood.  They  were  very  numerous,  for  they  were  in  their  ow^n 
countr}',  and  could  come  and  go  from  their  army  at  their 
pleasure  without  danger.  They  received  continual  supplies  of 
fresh  provision,  which  was  brought  on  the  backs  of  camels. 

The  second  day  after  the  Christians  had  landed,  the  Saracens, 
about  dawn,  came  to  attack  the  camp,  sir  Henry  d'Antoing 
having  the  command  of  the  guard  of  two  hundred  men-at-arms 
and  one  thousand  Genoese  cross-bows.  The  skirmish  lasted 
more  than  two  hours,  and  many  gallant  deeds  were  done  in 
shooting  and  thrusting  the  lance,  for  there  was  not  any  engage- 
ment with  the  sword  hand  to  hand.  The  Saracens  did  not 
foolhardily  risk  themselves,  but  fought  with  valou-r  and  more 


88  FROISSART. 

prudence  than  the  Christians.  When  they  had  skirmished 
some  time,  the  Saracens  retreated ;  for  the  army  began  to  be  in 
motion,  and  some  of  the  French  barons  had  come  to  witness 
the  action,  and  observe  the  manner  of  their  enemies'  fighting, 
that  they  might  be  prepared  to  meet  them  another  time.  The 
Saracens  retired  to  their  camp,  as  did  the  Christians  to  theirs; 
but,  during  the  whole  time  of  this  siege  of  Africa,  the  Christians 
were  never  left  quiet,  for  their  camp  was  every  night  or  morning 
attacked  by  the  enemy. 

Among  the  Saracens  was  a  young  knight,  called  Agadinquor 
Oliferne,  excellently  mounted  on  a  beautiful  courser,  which  he 
managed  a^,  iie  willed,  and  which,  when  he  galloped,  seemed  to 
fly  with  him.  From  his  gallantry,  he  showed  he  was  a  good 
man-at-arms ;  and  when  he  rode  abroad,  he  had  with  him  three 
javelins,  well  feathered  and  pointed,  which  he  dexterously  flung, 
according  to  the  custom  of  his  country.  He  was  completely  armed 
in  black,  and  had  a  kind  of  white  napkin  wrapped  round  his  head. 
His  seat  on  horseback  was  graceful ;  and,  from  the  vigour  and 
gallantry  of  his  actions,  the  Christians  judged  he  was  excited 
thereto  by  his  affection  to  a  young  lady  of  the  country.  True  it 
is,  he  most  sincerely  loved  the  daughter  of  the  king  of  Tunis, 
who,  according  to  the  report  of  some  Genoese  merchants  who 
had  seen  her,  was  very  handsome,  and  the  heiress  of  his  king- 
dom. This  knight,  called  Agadinquor,  was  the  son  of  duke 
Oliferne  ;  but  I  know  not  if  he  ever  married  this  lady.  I  heard 
that,  during  the  siege,  he  performed  many  handsome  feats  of  arms, 
to  testify  his  love,  which  the  French  knights  saw  with  pleasure, 
and  would  willingly  have  surrounded  him ;  but  he  rode  so  good  a 
horse,  and  had  him  so  well  in  hand,  that  all  their  efforts  were 
vain.  The  Christian  lords  were  very  anxious  to  make  some 
Saracens  prisoners,  to  learn  from  them  the  real  state  of  their 
army ;  but  they  were  so  cautious,  that  they  could  not  succeed, 
and,  having  noticed  their  intent,  the  Saracen  chiefs  gave  orders 
accordingly.  The  Saracens  were  much  afraid  of  the  Genoese 
cross-bows:  they  shielded  themselves  as  well  as  they  could 
against  their  bolts,  but  they  are  not  armed  so  strongly  as  the 
Christians;   for   they  know  not   the  art   to  forge  armour   like 


FROISSART.  89 

theirs,  nor  have  they  workmen  who  could  make  such.  Iron 
and  steel  are  not  common  among  them;  and  they  wear  li^ht 
targets  hanging  on  their  necks,  covered  with  boiled  leather  from 
Cappadocia,  that  no  spear  can  penetrate,  if  the  leather  has 
not  been  overboiled.  Their  manner  of  fighting,  according  to 
what  I  heard,  was  to  advance  on  the  Christians,  and  shoot  a 
volley  of  arrows  at  the  Genoese  the  moment  they  made  their 
appearance,  and  then  to  fall  down  under  shelter  of  their  shields, 
by  which  they  avoided  the  bolts  from  the  cross-bows,  that  went 
over  them ;  they  then  rose,  and  either  shot  more  arrows,  or 
lanced  their  javelins  with  much  dexterity. 

Thus  for  the  space  of  nine  weeks  that  the  sieg<i  lasted  were 
continual  skirmishes  made;  and  on  both  sides  many  were  killed 
and  wounded,  more  especially  such  as  ventured  too  rashly. 
The  Christians  imitated  the  Saracens  by  avoiding  a  close 
combat;  and  the  lords  from  France  and  other  countries  took 
delight  in  their  manner  of  fighting,  for,  to  say  the  truth,  novelty 
is  always  pleasing.  The  young  lords  of  these  infidels  were 
greatly  struck  with  the  glittering  armour  and  emblazoned 
banners  and  pennons  of  their  enemies,  and,  when  returned  to 
their  camp,  they  conversed  much  about  them.  They  were, 
however,  astonished  at  one  thing,  which  I  will  now  relate. 
The  Saracens  within  the  tow^n  of  Africa  were  anxious  to  know 
on  what  pretence  the  Christians  had  come  with  so  large  an  ^ 
army  to  make  war  on  them;  and,  to  learn  the  reasons,  they 
resolved,  as  I  was  told,  in  council,  to  send  a  person  that  could 
speak  Genoese,  and  gave  him  the  following  orders  : — "  Go  and 
take  the  road  to  the  camp  of  the  Christians  [and  manage,  before 
thou  returnest,  to  speak  with  some  lords  in  their  army],  and 
demand,  in  our  name,  why  they  have  brought  so  powerful  a 
force  against  us,  and  taken  possession  of  the  lands  of  the  king  | 
of  Africa,  who  has  not  done  anything  to  ofifend  them.  True  it 
is  that,  in  former  times,  w^e  were  at  war  with  the  Genoese,  but 
that  should  no  way  concern  them ;  for  they  come  from  very 
distant  countries,  and  the  Genoese  are  our  neighbours.  Our 
custom  has  been,  excepting  in  times  of  truce,  to  seize  mutually 
all  we  can  from  each  other." 


90  FJiOISSART. 

Having  received  these  instructions,  the  messenger  departed 
and  rode  on  to  the  camp.  The  first  person  he  met  was  a 
Genoese,  to  whom  he  said  that  he  was  sent  by  the  Saracens 
to  speak  with  some  baron  from  France.  The  Genoese,  to  whom 
he  had  addressed  himself,  was  called  Antonio  Marchi,  a  centurion 
of  cross-bows,  who  took  him  under  his  care,  to  his  great  joy,  and 
conducted  him  instantly  to  the  duke  of  Bourbon  and  the  lord  de 
Coucy.  They  both  listened  very  attentively,  and  what  they  did 
not  understand  the  centurion  interpreted  in  very  good  French. 
When  he  had  finished  all  he  had  been  ordered  to  say,  he  asked 
for  an  answer.  The  French  lords  told  him  he  should  have  one 
as  soon  as  they  had  considered  the  purport  of  his  message. 
Twelve  of  the  greatest  barons  of  the  army  assembled  in  the 
duke  of  Bourbon's  tent,  and  the  messenger  and  interpreter 
being  called  in,  the  last  was  ordered  to  tell  him  from  the 
lords  present,  "  that  in  consequence  of  their  ancestors  having 
crucified  and  put  to  death  the  son  of  God,  called  Jesus  Christ, 
a  true  prophet,  without  any  cause  or  just  reason,  they  were 
come  to  retaliate  on  them  for  this  infamous  and  unjust  judg- 
ment. Secondly,  they  were  unbaptised,  and  infidels  in  the  faith 
to  the  holy  Virgin,  mother  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  had  no  creed 
of  their  own.  For  these  and  other  causes  they  held  the 
Saracens  and  their  whole  sect  as  enemies,  and  were  come 
to  revenge  the  injuries  they  had  done  to  their  God  and  faith, 
and  would  to  this  effect  daily  exert  themselves  to  the  utmost  of 
their  power."  When  the  messenger  had  received  this  answer, 
he  departed  from  the  army  unmolested,  and  returned  to  report 
to  his  masters  what  you  have  just  read.  The  Saracens  laughed 
heartily  at  hearing  it,  and  said  they  made  assertions  without 
proofs,  for  it  was  the  Jews  who  had  crucified  Jesus  Christ, 
and  not  they.  Things  remained  on  the  former  footing:  the 
siege  was  continued,  and  each  army  on  its  guard. 

Shortly  after  this  message  the  Saracens  determined  in 
council  to  remain  quiet  for  seven  or  eight  days,  and,  during 
that  time,  neither  to  skirmish  nor  any  way  to  annoy  the 
Christians,  but,  when  they  should  think  themselves  in  perfect 
security,  to  fall  on  their  camp  like  a  deluge.     This  was  adopted; 


FROISSART.  91 

and  the  ninth  evening,  a  little  before  midnight,  they  secretly 
armed  their  men  with  their  accustomed  arms,  and  marched 
silently  in  a  compact  body  towards  the  Christian  camp.  They 
had  proposed  making  a  severe  attack  on  the  opposite  quarter 
to  the  main-guard,  and  would  have  succeeded  in  their  mis- 
chievous attempt,  if  God  had  not  watched  over  and  preserved  • 
them  by  miracles,  as  I  will  now  relate.  As  the  Saracens 
approached,  they  saw  before  them  a  company  of  ladies  dressed 
in  white ;  one  of  whom,  their  leader,  was  incomparably  more 
beautiful  than  the  rest,  and  bore  in  front  a  white  flag,  having  a 
vermilion  cross  in  the  centre.  The  Saracens  were  so  greatly 
terrified  at  this  vision,  that  they  lost  all  their  strength  and 
inclination  to  proceed,  and  stood  still,  these  ladies  keeping 
steadily  before  them.  The  Genoese  cross-bows  had  brought 
with  them  a  dog,  as  I  heard,  from  beyond  the  sea,  but 
whence  no  one  could  tell,  nor  did  he  belong  to  any  particular 
person.  This  dog  had  been  very  useful  to  them;  for  the 
Saracens  never  came  to  skirmish,  but  by  his  noise  he  awakened 
the  army,  and  as  every  one  now  knew  that  whenever  the  dog 
barked  the  Saracens  were  come,  or  on  their  road,  they 
prepared  themselves  instantly:  in  consequence  of  this,  the 
Genoese  called  him  the  dog  of  our  Lady.  This  night  the  dog 
was  not  idle,  but  made  a  louder  noise  than  usual,  and  ran  first  to 
the  main-guard,  which  was  under  the  command  of  the  lord  de 
Torcy,  a  Norman,  and  sir  Henry  d'Antoing.  As  during  the 
night  all  sounds  are  more  easily  heard,  the  whole  army  was  in 
motion,  and  properly  prepared  to  receive  the  Saracens,  who 
they  knew  were  approaching. 

This  was  the  fact ;  but  the  Virgin  Mary  and  her  company,  | 
having  the  Christians  under  their  care,  watched  over  them; 
and  this  night  they  received  no  harm,  for  the  Saracens  were 
afraid  to  advance,  and  returned  the  way  they  had  come.  The 
Christians  were  more  attentive  to  their  future  guards.  The 
Saracen  knights  and  squires,  within  the  town,  were  much 
cast  down  at  the  sight  they  had  seen,  more  especially  those 
who  were  advanced  near  this  company  of  ladies.  While,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  Christians  were  greatly  exerting  themselves 


92  FROISSART. 

to  win  the  place,  which  was  courageously  defended.  At  this 
period  the  weather  was  exceedingly  hot ;  for  it  was  the  month 
of  August,  when  the  sun  is  in  its  greatest  force,  and  that  country 
was  warmer  than  France,  from  being  nearer  the  sun,  and  from 
the  heat  of  the  sands.  The  wines  the  besiegers  were  supplied 
with  from  La  Puglia  and  Calabria  were  fiery,  and  hurtful  to 
the  constitutions  of  the  French,  many  of  whom  suffered  severely 
by  fevers,  from  the  heating  quality  of  their  liquors.  I  know  not 
how  the  Christians  were  enabled  to  bear  the  fatigues  in  such 
a  climate,  where  sweet  water  was  difficult  to  be  had.  They, 
however,  had  much  resource  in  the  wells  they  dug;  for  there 
were  upwards  of  two  hundred  sunk,  through  the  sands,  along 
the  shore;  but,  at  times,  even  this  water  was  muddy  and 
heated.  They  were  frequently  distressed  for  provision,  for 
the  supply  was  irregular,  from  Sicily  and  the  other  islands :  at 
times  they  had  abundance,  at  other  times  they  were  in  want. 
The  healthy  comforted  the  sick,  and  those  who  had  provision 
shared  it  with  such  as  had  none ;  for  in  this  campaign  they 
were  all  as  brothers.  The  lord  de  Coucy,  in  particular,  was 
beloved  by  every  gentleman :  he  was  kind  to  all,  and  behaved 
himself  by  far  more  graciously,  in  all  respects,  than  the  duke  of 
Bourbon,  who  was  proud  and  haughty,  and  never  conversed 
with  the  knights  and  squires  from  foreign  countries  in  the  same 
agreeable  manner  the  lord  de  Coucy  did. 

The  duke  was  accustomed  to  sit  cross-legged  the  greater 
part  of  the  day  before  his  pavilion ;  and  those  who  had  any- 
thing to  say  to  him  were  obliged  to  make  many  reverences,  and 
address  him  through  the  means  of  a  third  person.  He  was 
indifferent  whether  the  poorer  knights  and  squires  were  well  or 
ill  at  their  ease :  this  the  lord  de  Coucy  always  inquired  into, 
and  by  it  gained  great  popularity.  It  was  told  me,  by  some 
foreign  knights  who  had  been  there,  that  had  the  lord  de  Coucy 
been  commander-in-chief,  instead  of  the  duke  of  Bourbon,  the 
success  would  have  been  very  different ;  for  many  attacks  on 
the  town  of  Africa  were  frustrated  by  the  pride  and  fault  of  the 
duke  of  Bourbon :  several  thought  it  would  have  been  taken,  if 
it  had  not  been  for  him. 


FROISSART. 


93 


This  siege  lasted,  by  an  exact  account,  sixty-one  days  ;  during 
which  many  were  the  skirmishes  before  the  town  and  at  the 
barriers:  they  were  well  defended,  for  the  flower  of  the  infidel 
chivalry  was  in  the  town.  The  Christians  said  among  them- 
selves :  "  If  we  could  gain  this  place  by  storm  or  otherwise, 
and  strongly  reinforce  and  victual  it  during  the  winter,  a  large 
body  of  our  countrymen  might  then  come  hither  in  the  spring 
and  gain  a  footing  in  the  kingdoms  of  Barbary  and  Tunis, 
which  would  encourage  the  Christians  to  cross  the  sea  annually 
and  extend  their  conquests."  "Would  to  God  it  were  so," 
others  replied ;  "  for  the  knights  now  here  would  then  be  com- 
fortably lodged,  and  every  day,  if  they  pleased,  they  might  have 
deeds  of  arms."  The  besieged  were  alarmed  at  the  obstinacy 
of  their  attacks,  and  redoubled  their  guards.  The  great  heat, 
however,  did  more  for  them  than  all  the  rest,  added  to  the 
constant  uncertainty  of  being  attacked ;  for  the  policy  of  the 
Saracens  was  to  keep  them  in  continual  alarms.  They  were 
almost  burnt  up  when  in  armour;  and  it  was  wonderful  that 
any  escaped  death;  for  during  the  month  of  August  the  air 
was  suffocating.  An  extraordinary  accident  happened,  which  if 
it  had  lasted  any  time,  must  have  destroyed  them  all.  During 
one  week,  from  the  heat  and  corruption  of  the  air,  there  were 
such  wonderful  swarms  of  flies,  the  army  was  covered  with  them. 
The  men  knew  not  how  to  rid  themselves  of  these  troublesome 
guests,  which  multiplied  daily,  to  their  great  astonishment ;  but, 
through  the  grace  of  God  and  the  \'irgin  Mary,  to  whom  they 
were  devoted,  a  remedy  was  found,  in  a  thunder  and  hail 
storm,  that  fell  with  great  violence,  and  destroyed  all  the  flies. 
The  air,  by  this  storm,  was  much  cooled,  and  the  army  got  to 
be  in  better  health  than  it  had  been  for  some  time. 

Knights  who  are  on  such  expeditions  must  cheerfully  put  up 
with  what  weather  may  happen,  for  they  cannot  have  it  accord- 
ing to  their  wishes ;  and,  when  any  one  falls  sick,  he  must  be 
nursed  to  his  recovery  or  to  his  death.  Although  the  knights 
from  France  had  undertaken  this  voyage  with  an  eagerness 
and  resolution  that  bore  them  up  under  the  pains  they  suttered, 
they  had  not  many  luxuries  to  gratify  them;  for  nothing  was 


94  FROISSART. 

sent  them  from  France,  nor  had  any  in  that  kingdom  more 
intelligence  from  them  than  if  they  were  buried  under  ground. 
Once,  indeed,  there  came  a  galley  from  Barcelona,  laden  more 
with  oranges  and  small  grains  than  with  anything  else.  The 
oranges  were  of  the  greatest  service,  by  the  refreshment  they 
afforded ;  but,  whatever  vessel  came  to  them,  none  returned,  for 
fear  of  meeting  the  Saracens  at  sea,  and  because  they  wished  to 
wait  the  event  of  the  siege,  and  see  whether  the  Christians 
would  conquer  the  town. 

The  young  king  Lewis  of  Sicily  exerted  himself,  in  order  that 
his  subjects  should  carry  a  constant  supply  of  provision  to 
them,  for  he  was  their  nearest  neighbour.  It  was  fortunate  the 
Saracens  were  not  strong  enough  at  sea  to  prevent  the  vessels 
coming  from  the  ports  of  Sicily  and  Naples,  or  they  would 
have  conquered  them  without  striking  a  blow.  They  therefore 
contented  themselves  with  keeping  the  Christians  under  per- 
petual alarms  on  land.  The  Saracens  have  not  a  large  navy 
like  the  Genoese  and  Venetians ;  and  what  they  get  at  sea  is 
by  thievery;  and  they  never  dare  wait  the  attack  of  the 
Christians  unless  they  be  in  very  superior  numbers,  for  a  well- 
armed  galley  with  Christians  will  defeat  four  of  such  enemies. 
In  truth,  the  Turks  are  better  men-at-arms  by  sea  and  land 
than  any  other  nation  of  unbelievers  of  our  faith ;  but  they  were 
at  too  great  a  distance  from  Africa,  and  the  town  could  not 
receive  any  aid  from  them.  The  Turks  had  heard  that  the 
town  of  Africa  was  besieged  by  the  Christians,  and  had  often, 
but  in  vain,  wished  to  have  been  there. 

The  besiegers  and  their  enemies  studied  day  and  night  how 
they  could  most  effectually  annoy  each  other.  Agadinquor 
Oliferne,  Madifer  de  Tunis,  Belins  Maldages,  and  Brahadin  de 
Bugia,  and  some  other  Saracens,  consulted  together,  and  said, 
"Here  are  our  enemies  the  Christians  encamped  before  us,  and 
we  cannot  defeat  them.  They  are  so  few  in  number  when 
compared  to  us,  that  they  must  be  well  advised  by  their  able 
captains ;  for,  in  all  our  skirmishes,  we  have  never  been  able  to 
make  one  knight  prisoner.  If  we  could  capture  one  or  two  of 
their  leaders,  we  should  acquire  fame,  and  learn  from  them  the 


i 


FROISSART.  95 

state  of  their  army  and  what  are  their  intentions.  Let  us  now 
consider  how  we  may  accomplish  this."  Agadinquor  replied: 
"Though  I  am  the  youngest,  I  wish  to  speak  first."  "We 
agree  to  it,"  said  the  others.  "  By  my  faith,"  continued  he,  "  I 
am  very  desirous  of  engaging  them;  and  I  think,  if  I  were 
matched  in  equal  combat  with  one  of  my  size,  I  should  conquer 
him.  If  you  will  therefore  select  ten  valiant  men,  I  will 
challenge  the  Christians  to  send  the  same  number  to  fight  with 
us.  We  have  justice  on  our  side  in  this  war,  for  they  have 
quarrelled  with  us  without  reason;  and  this  right  and  the 
courage  I  feel,  induce  me  to  believe  that  we  shall  have  the 
victory."  Madifer  dc  Tunis,  who  was  a  very  valiant  man, 
said:  "Agadinquor,  what  you  have  proposed  is  much  to  your 
honour.  To-morrow,  if  you  please,  you  shall  ride  as  our  chief 
towards  the  camp  of  the  Christians,  taking  an  interpreter  with 
you,  and  make  a  signal  that  you  have  something  to  say.  If 
you  be  well  received  by  them,  propose  your  combat  of  ten 
against  ten.  We  shall  then  hear  what  answer  they  give;  and, 
though  I  believe  the  offer  will  be  accepted,  we  must  take  good 
counsel  how  we  proceed  against  these  Christians,  whom  we 
consider  as  more  valiant  than  ourselves." 

This  being  determined  on,  they  retired  to  rest.  On  the 
morrow,  as  usual,  they  advanced  to  skirmish;  but  Agadinquor 
rode  on  at  some  distance  in  front  with  his  interpreter.  The 
day  was  bright  and  clear,  and  a  little  after  sunrise  the  Saracens 
were  ready  for  battle.  Sir  Guy  and  sir  William  de  la  Tremouille 
had  commanded  the  guard  of  the  night,  and  were  on  the  point 
of  retiring  when  the  Saracens  appeared  in  sight,  about  three 
bow-shots  distant.  Agadinquor  and  his  interpreter  advanced 
towards  one  of  the  wings,  and  made  signs  to  give  notice  that 
he  wanted  to  parley  with  some  one :  by  accident  he  came  near 
the  pennon  of  a  good  squire  at  arms  called  Affrenal,  who, 
noticing  his  signs,  rode  forward  a  pace,  and  told  his  men  to 
remain  as  they  were,  "  for  that  he  would  go  and  see  what  the 
Saracen  wanted :  he  has  an  interpreter  with  him,  and  is  prob- 
ably come  to  make  some  proposition."  His  men  remained 
steady,  and  he  rode  towards  the  Saracen, 


96  FROISSART. 

When  they  were  near  each  other,  the  interpreter  said: 
"  Christian,  are  you  a  gentleman,  of  name  in  arms,  and  ready 
to  answer  what  shall  be  asked  of  you?"  "Yes,"  replied 
AfFrenal,  "  I  am :  speak  what  you  please,  it  shall  be  answered" 
"  Well,"  said  the  interpreter,  "  here  is  a  noble  man  of  our 
country  who  demands  to  combat  with  you  bodily ;  and,  if  you 
would  like  to  increase  the  number  to  ten,  he  will  bring  as  many 
of  his  friends  to  meet  you.  The  cause  for  the  challenge  is  this : 
They  maintain  that  their  faith  is  more  perfect  than  yours ;  for 
it  has  continued  since  the  beginning  of  the  world,  when  it  was 
written  down ;  and  that  your  faith  has  been  introduced  by  a 
mortal,  whom  the  Jews  hung  and  crucified."  "  Ho,"  interrupted 
Affrenal,  "be  silent  on  these  matters,  for  it  does  not  become 
such  as  thee  to  dispute  concerning  them,  but  tell  the  Saracen, 
who  has  ordered  thee  to  speak,  to  swear  on  his  faith  that  such 
a  combat  shall  take  place,  and  he  shall  be  gratified  within  four 
hours.  Let  him  bring  ten  gentlemen,  and  of  name  in  arms,  on 
his  side,  and  I  will  bring  as  many  to  meet  him."  The  inter- 
preter related  to  the  Saracen  the  words  that  had  passed,  who 
seemed  much  rejoiced  thereat,  and  pledged  himself  for  the 
combat. 

This  being  done,  each  returned  to  his  friends ;  but  the  news 
had  already  been  carried  to  sir  Guy  and  to  sir  William  de  la 
Tremouille,  who,  meeting  Affrenal,  demanded  how  he  had 
settled  matters  with  the  Saracen.  AftVenal  related  what  you 
have  heard,  and  that  he  had  accepted  the  challenge.  The  two 
knights  were  well  pleased,  and  said :  "  Affrenal,  go  and  speak 
to  others,  for  we  will  be  of  your  number  ten."  He  replied: 
"  God  assist  us  !  I  fancy  I  shall  find  plenty  ready  to  fight  the 
Saracens."  Shortly  after,  Affrenal  met  the  lord  de  Thim,  to 
whom  he  told  what  had  passed,  and  asked  if  he  would  make 
one.  The  lord  de  Thim  willingly  accepted  the  offer ;  and  of  all 
those  to  whom  Affrenal  related  it,  he  might,  if  he  pleased,  have 
had  a  hundred  instead  of  ten.  Sir  Boucicaut,  the  younger, 
accepted  it  with  great  courage,  as  did  sir  Helion  de  Lignac,  sir 
John  Russel,  an  Englishman,  sir  John  Harpedone,  Alain  Boudet, 
and  Bouchet.     When  the  number  of  ten  was  comj^leted,  they 


FROISSART.  97 

retired    to   their   lodgings,   to    prepare    and   arm    themselves. 
When  the  news  of  this  combat  was  spread  through  the  army, 
and  the  names  of  the  ten  were  told,  the  knights  and  squires 
said  :  "They  are  lucky  fellows,  thus  to  have  such  a  gallant  feat 
of  arms  fall  to  their  lot."     "Would  to  Heaven,"  added  many, 
"  that  we  were  of  the  ten."     All  the  knights  and  squires  seemed 
to  rejoice  at  this  event,  except  the  lord  de  Coucy.     I  believe  the 
lord  de  Thim  was  a  dependent  on,  or  of  the  company  of,  the 
lord  de  Coucy;  for,  when  he  repaired  to  his  tent  to  arm,  he 
found  him  there,  and   acknowledged   him  for  his   lord.      He 
related  to  him  the  challenge  of  the  Saracen,  and  that  he  had 
accepted  being  one  of  the  ten.     All  present  were  loud  in  praise 
of  it,  except  the  lord  de  Coucy,  who  said  :  "  Hold  your  tongues, 
you  youngsters,  who  as  yet  know  nothing  of  the  world,  and  who 
never  consider  consequences,  but  always  applaud  folly  in  pre- 
ference to  good.     I  see  no  advantage  in  this  combat,  for  many 
reasons:  one  is,  that  ten  noble  and  distinguished  gentlemen 
are  about  to  fight  with  ten  Saracens.     How  do  we  know  if  their 
opponents  are  gentlemen  ?     They  may,  if  they  choose,  bring  to 
the  combat  ten  varlets,  or  knaves,  and,  if  they  are  defeated, 
what  is  the  gain?     We  shall  not  the  sooner  win  the  town  of 
Africa,  but  by  it  risk  very  valuable  lives.     Perhaps  they  may 
form  an  ambuscade,  and,  while  our  friends  are  on  the  plain 
waiting  for  their  opponents,  surround  them  and  carry  them  off, 
by  which  we  shall  be  greatly  weakened.     I  therefore  say  that 
Affrenal  has  not  wisely  managed  this  matter;   and,  when  he 
first  met  the  Saracen,  he  should  have  otherwise  answered,  and 
said :  '  I  am  not  the  commander-in-chief  of  our  army,  but  one 
of  the  least  in  it;  and  you,  Saracen,  who  address  yourself  to  me 
and  blame  our  faith,  are  not  qualified  to  discuss  such  matters, 
nor  have  you  well  addressed  yourself.     I  will  conduct  you  to 
my  lords,  and  assure  you,  on  my  life,  that  no  harm  befall  you  in 
going  or  in  returning,  for  my  lords  will  cheerfully  listen  to  you.' 
He  should  then  have  led  him  to  the  duke  of  Bourbon  and  the 
council  of  war,  when  his  proposal  would  have  been  heard  and 
discussed  at  leisure,  his  intentions  been  known,  and  answers 
made  according  as   they  should  think   the  matter  deserved. 

7 


98  FROISSART. 

Such  a  combat  should  never  be  undertaken  but  after  great 
dehberation,  especially  with  enemies  like  to  those  we  are 
engaged  with.  And  when  it  had  been  agreed  on,  that  the 
names  and  qualities  of  each  combatant  should  be  declared,  we 
would  then  have  selected  proper  persons  to  meet  them,  and 
proper  securities  would  have  been  required  from  the  Saracens 
for  the  uninterrupted  performance  of  the  combat,  and  a  due 
observance  of  the  articles.  If  matters  had  been  thus  managed, 
lord  of  Thim,  I  think  it  would  have  been  better.  It  would  be 
well  if  it  could  be  put  on  this  footing;  and  I  will  speak  to  the 
duke  of  Bourbon  and  the  principal  barons  in  the  army,  and 
hear  what  they  shall  say  on  the  subject." — The  lord  de  Coucy 
then  departed  for  the  tent  of  the  duke  of  Bourbon,  where  the 
barons  were  assembled,  as  they  had  heard  of  this  challenge,  to 
consider  what  might  be  the  probable  event  of  it.  Although  the 
lord  de  Coucy  had  intended  his  speech  to  the  lord  de  Thim  as 
advice  for  his  benefit,  he  did  not  the  less  arm  himself:  when 
fully  equipped,  he  went  with  his  companions,  who  were  com- 
pletely armed,  and  in  good  array,  with  sir  Guy  de  la  Tremouille 
at  their  head,  to  meet  the  Saracens. 

During  this  there  was  conversation  on  the  subject  between 
the  lords  in  the  tent  of  the  duke  of  Bourbon :  many  thought  the 
accepting  such  a  challenge  improper,  and  supported  the  opinion 
of  the  lord  de  Coucy,  who  said  it  ought  to  have  been  ordered 
otherwise.  But  some,  and  in  particular  the  lord  Philip  d'Artois, 
count  d'Eu,  and  the  lord  Philip  de  Bar,  said  :  "  Since  the 
challenge  has  been  accepted  by  our  knights,  they  would  be 
disgraced  were  the  combat  now  broken  off:  and  in  the  name  of 
God  and  our  Lady,  let  them  accomplish  it  the  best  manner 
they  can."  This  was  adopted ;  for  it  was  now  too  far  advanced 
to  be  stopped.  It  was  therefore  ordered  to  draw  out  the  whole 
army  properly  arrayed,  that  if  the  Saracens  had  formed  any 
bad  designs,  they  might  be  prepared  to  meet  them.  Every 
one,  therefore,  made  himself  ready;  the  whole  were  drawn  up, 
as  if  for  instant  combat;  the  Genoese  cross-bows  on  one  side, 
and  the  knights  and  squires  on  the  other ;  each  lord  under  his 
own  banner  or  pennon  emblazoned  with  his  arms.     It  was  a 


FROISSART. 


99 


fine  sij^ht  to  view  the  army  thus  displayed,  and  they  showed 
great  eagerness  to  attack  the  Saracens. 

The  ten  knights  and  squires  were  advanced  on  tlie  plain 
waiting  for  their  opponents,  but  they  came  not,  nor  showed  any 
appearance  of  so  doing;  for,  when  they  saw  the  Christian  army 
so  handsomely  drawn  out  in  battle-array,  they  were  afraid  to 
advance,  though  they  were  thrice  their  numbers.  At  times  they 
sent  horsemen,  well  mounted,  to  ride  near  their  army,  observe 
its  disposition,  and  then  gallop  back,  which  was  solely  done 
through  malice,  to  annoy  the  Christians. 

This  was  the  hottest  day  they  felt,  and  it  was  so  extremely 
oppressive  that  the  most  active  among  them  were  almost  stifled 
in  their  armour :  they  had  never  suffered  so  much  before,  and 
yet  they  remained  expecting  the  ten  Saracens,  but  in  vain,  for 
they  never  heard  a  word  from  them.  The  army  was  ordered  to 
attack  the  town  of  Africa,  since  they  were  prepared,  and  thus 
pass  the  day;  and  the  ten  champions,  in  regard  to  their  honour, 
were  to  remain  on  their  ground  to  the  evening. 

The  knights  and  squires  advanced  with  great  alacrity  to  the 
attack  of  the  town,  but  they  were  sorely  oppressed  with  the 
heat;  and  had  the  Saracens  known  their  situation,  they  might 
I  have  done  them  much  damage,  probably  they  might  even 
j  have  raised  the  siege  and  obtained  a  complete  victory,  for  the 
I  Christians  were  exceedingly  weakened  and  worn  down.  True 
;  it  is,  they  gained  by  storm  the  wall  of  the  first  enclosure ;  but 
!  no  one  inhabited  that  part,  and  the  enemy  retired  within  their 
I  second  Hne  of  defence,  skirmishing  as  they  retreated,  and 
i  without  any  great  loss.  The  Christians  paid  dear  for  an 
j  inconsiderable  advantage :  the  heat  of  the  sun  and  its  reflection 
i  on  the  sands,  added  to  the  fatigue  of  fighting,  which  lasted 
i  until  evening,  caused  the  deaths  of  several  valiant  knights  and 
!  squires:  the  more  the  pity. 

I  I  will  mention  the  names  of  those  who  this  day  fell  victims  to 
I  the  heat  and  unhealthiness  of  the  climate.  First,  sir  William 
I  de  Gacille,  sir  Guiscard  de  la  Garde,  sir  Lyon  Scalet,  sir  Guy 
I  de  la  Salveste,  sir  William  d'Estapelle,  sir  William  de  Guiret, 
sir  Raffroy  de  la  Chapelle,  the  lord  de  Pierre  Buffiere,  the  lord 


100  FROISSART. 

de  Bonnet,  sir  Robert  de  Ranges,  sir  Stephen  de  Sancerre,  sir 
Aubert  de  la  Motte,  sir  Alain  de  la  Champaigne,  sir  Geoffry 
Sressiers,  sir  Raoul  d'Econflan,  the  lord  de  Bourg  from  Artois, 
sir  John  de  Crie,  bastard  de  la  Mouleraye,  sir  Tristan  his 
brother,  sir  Arne  de  Consay,  sir  Arne  de  Donnay,  sir  John  de 
Compaignie,  sir  Fouke  d'Escaufifours,  sir  John  de  Dignant,  sir 
John  de  Cathenais.  I  will  now  add  the  names  of  squires  who 
fell.  Fouchans  de  Liege,  John  des  Isles,  Blondelet  d'Arenton, 
John  de  la  Motte,  Blomberis,  Floridas  de  Rocque,  the  lord 
de  Bellefreres,  William  Fondrigay,  Walter  de  Canfours,  John 
Morillon,  Peter  de  Maulves,  Guillot  Villain,  John  de  la  Lande, 
John  Purier,  John  le  Moine,  John  de  Launay,  and  William  du 
Pare. 

Now  consider  how  great  was  this  loss;  and,  had  the  advice 
of  the  gallant  lord  de  Coucy  been  followed,  it  would  not  have 
happened,  for  the  army  would  have  remained  quietly  in  its 
camp,  as  it  had  hitherto  done.  The  whole  army  were  dismayed 
at  it,  and  each  bewailed  the  loss  of  his  friend.  They  retired 
late  to  their  camp,  and  kept  a  stronger  guard  than  usual,  during 
the  night,  for  fear  of  the  Saracens.  It  passed,  however,  without 
further  accident,  and  more  prudent  arrangements  were  made. 
The  Saracens  were  ignorant  of  what  their  enemies  had  suffered; 
had  they  known  it,  they  would  have  had  a  great  advantage  over 
them,  but  they  were  in  dread  of  the  Christians,  and  never 
ventured  to  attack  them  but  in  skirmishes,  retreating  after  one 
or  two  charges.  The  person  among  them  who  had  shown  the 
most  courage  was  Agadinquor  d'Oliferne.  He  was  enamoured 
with  the  daughter  of  the  king  of  Tunis,  and  in  compliment  to 
her,  was  eager  to  perform  brilliant  actions. 

Thus  was  the  siege  of  Africa  continued  ;  but  the  relations  and 
friends  of  the  knights  and  squires  who  had  gone  thither,  from 
France  and  other  countries,  received  no  intelligence,  nor  knew 
more  of  them  than  if  they  were  dead.  They  were  so  much 
alarmed  at  not  having  any  news  of  them  that  many  processions 
were  made  in  England,  France,  and  Hainault,  to  the  churches 
to  pray  God  that  he  would  bring  them  back,  in  safety,  to  their 
several  homes.     The  intention  of  the  Christians  was  to  remain 


FROISSAKT.  .  loi 

before  the  town  of  Africa  until  they  should  have  conquered  It 
by  storm,  treaty,  or  famine.  The  king  of  Sicily,  as  well  as  the 
inhabitants  of  the  adjacent  islands,  were  anxious  it  should  be 
so,  for  the  Africans  had  done  them  frequent  damage ;  but  the 
Genoese  were  particularly  kind,  in  supplying  the  knights  and 
squires  with  everything  they  wanted,  to  prevent  them  from  being 
tired  with  the  length  of  the  campaign. 

To  say  the  truth,  this  was  a  very  great  enterprise,  and  the 
knights  and  squires  showed  much  courage  and  perseverance  in 
continuing  the  siege  in  so  unhealthy  a  climate,  after  the  great 
losses  they  had  suffered,  without  assistance  from  any  one ;  and 
even  when  the  Genoese,  who  had  first  proposed  the  expedition, 
were  dissembling  with  them,  and  as  it  was  said,  were  in  treaty 
with  the  Saracens,  to  leave  the  Christian  army  unsupported  and 
neglected,  as  I  shall  relate  in  due  time,  according  to  the  reports 
that  were  made  to  me. 


A   PASSAGE  OF  ARMS. 

During  the  skirmish  at  Toury,  a  squire  i\om  Beauce,  a 
gentleman  of  tried  courage,  who  had  advanced  himself  by  his 
own  merit,  without  any  assistance  from  others,  came  to  the 
barriers,  and  cried  out  to  the  English,  "  Is  there  among  you 
any  gentleman  who  for  love  of  his  lady  is  willing  to  try  with  me 
some  feat  of  arms .''  If  there  should  be  any  such,  here  I  am, 
quite  ready  to  sally  forth  completely  armed  and  mounted,  to  tilt 
three  courses  with  the  lance,  to  give  three  blows  with  the  battle- 
axe,  and  three  strokes  with  the  dagger.  Now  look,  you  English, 
if  there  be  none  among  you  in  love." 

This  squire's  name  was  Gauvain  Micaille.  His  proposal  and 
request  was  soon  spread  among  the  English,  when  a  squire,  an 
expert  man  at  tournaments,  called  Joachim  Gator,  stepped  forth 
and  said,  "  I  will  deliver  him  from  his  vow:  let  him  make  haste 
and  come  out  of  the  castle."  Upon  this,  the  lord  Fitzwalter, 
marshal  of  the  army,  went  up  to  the  barriers,  and  said  to  sir 
Guy  le  Baveux,  "  Let  your  squire  come  forth :  he  has  found  one 


ttiii  FROISSART. 

who  will  cheerfully  deliver  him ;  and  we  will  afford  him  every 
security." 

Gauvain  Micaille  was  much  rejoiced  on  hearing  these  words. 
He  immediately  armed  himself,  in  which  the  lords  assisted  in 
the  putting-  on  the  different  pieces,  and  mounted  him  on  a  horse, 
which  they  gave  to  him.  Attended  by  two  others,  he  came  out 
of  the  castle;  and  his  varlets  carried  three  lances,  three  battle- 
axes,  and  three  daggers.  He  was  much  looked  at  by  the 
English,  for  they  did  not  think  any  Frenchman  would  have 
engaged  body  to  body.  There  were  besides  to  be  three  strokes 
with  a  sword,  and  with  all  other  sorts  of  arms.  Gauvain  had 
had  three  brought  with  him  for  fear  any  should  break. 

The  earl  of  Buckingham,  hearing  of  this  combat,  said  he 
would  see  it,  and  mounted  his  horse,  attended  by  the  earls  of 
Stafford  and  Devonshire.  On  this  account,  the  assault  on 
Toury  ceased.  The  Englishman  that  was  to  tilt  was  brought 
forward,  completely  armed  and  mounted  on  a  good  horse. 
When  they  had  taken  their  stations,  they  gave  to  each  of  them 
a  spear,  and  the  tilt  began;  but  neither  of  them  struck  the 
other,  from  the  mettlesomeness  of  their  horses.  They  hit  the 
second  onset,  but  it  was  by  darting  their  spears ;  on  which  the 
earl  of  Buckingham  cried  out,  "  Hola  hola  !  it  is  now  late."  He 
then  said  to  the  constable,  "  Put  an  end  to  it,  for  they  have 
done  enough  this  day:  we  will  make  them  finish  it  when  we 
have  more  leisure  than  we  have  at  this  moment,  and  take  great 
care  that  as  much  attention  is  paid  to  the  French  squire  as  to 
our  own ;  and  order  some  one  to  tell  those  in  the  castle  not  to 
be  uneasy  about  him,  for  we  shall  carry  him  with  us  to  complete 
his  enterprise,  but  not  as  a  prisoner ;  and  that  when  he  shall 
have  been  delivered,  if  he  escape  with  his  life,  we  will  send  him 
back  in  all  safety." 

These  orders  of  the  earl  were  obeyed  by  the  marshal,  who 
said  to  the  French  squire,  "  You  shall  accompany  us  without 
any  danger,  and  when  it  shall  be  agreeable  to  my  lord  you  will 
be  delivered."  Gauvain  replied,  "  God  help  me  ! "  A  herald 
was  sent  to  the  castle  to  repeat  to  the  governor  the  words  you 
have  heard. 


FROISSART.  103 

The  following  day  they  marched  towards  Gencvillc  in 
Beauce,  always  in  expectation  of  having  an  engagement  with 
the  enemy;  for  they  well  knew  they  were  followed  and  watched 
by  the  French,  in  greater  numbers  than  themselves.  True  it  is, 
that  the  French  dukes,  counts,  barons,  knights,  and  squires 
eagerly  wished  for  a  battle,  and  said  among  themselves  that  it 
was  very  blamable  and  foolish  not  to  permit  them  to  engage, 
and  suffer  the  enemy  thus  to  slip  through  their  hands.  But 
when  it  was  mentioned  to  the  king,  he  replied,  "  Let  them 
alone ;  they  will  destroy  themselves."  The  English  continued 
their  march,  with  the  intent  to  enter  Brittany. 

You  before  heard  that  there  were  three  hundred  spears  in 
Geneville,  so  the  whole  army  passed  by  it.  There  was  indeed 
at  the  barriers  some  little  skirmishing,  which  lasted  not  long, 
as  it  was  time  thrown  away.  Without  Geneville  a  handsome 
mill  was  destroyed.  The  earl  came  to  Yterville,  and  dismounted 
at  the  house  of  the  Templars.  The  vanguard  went  forward  to 
Puiset,  where  they  heard  that  sixty  companions  had  posted 
themselves  in  a  large  tower:  they  marched  to  the  attack,  for  it 
was  situated  in  the  open  plain  without  any  bulwarks.  The 
assault  was  sharp,  but  did  not  last  long,  for  the  archers  shot  so 
briskly  that  scarcely  any  one  dared  to  appear  on  the  battle- 
ments :  the  tower  was  taken,  and  those  within  slain  or  made 
prisoners.  The  English  then  set  fire  to  it,  and  marched  on, 
for  they  were  in  the  utmost  distress  for  water.  From  thence 
they  went  to  Ermoyon,  where  they  quartered  themselves,  and 
then  to  the  forest  of  Marchenoir.  In  this  forest  there  is  a 
monaster)'  of  monks,  of  the  Cistertian  order,  which  is  called  the 
Cistertian  Abbey,  and  has  several  handsome  and  noble  edifices, 
where  formerly  a  most  renowned  and  noble  knight,  the  count 
de  Blois,  received  great  edification,  and  bequeathed  to  it  large 
revenues;  but  the  wars  had  greatly  diminished  them.  The 
earl  of  Buckingham  lodged  in  this  abbey,  and  heard  mass  there 
on  the  feast  of  our  Lady  in  September.  It  was  there  ordered 
that  Gauvain  Micaille  and  Joachim  Gator  should  on  the  morrow 
complete  their  enterprise.  That  day  the  English  came  to 
Marchenoir :  the  governor  v.as  a  knight  of  that  country,  called 


I04  FROISSART. 

sir  William  de  St.  Martin,  a  prudent  and  valiant  man-at-arms. 
The  English,  after  having  reconnoitred  the  castle,  retired  to 
their  quarters.  In  another  part,  the  lord  Fitzwalter  came  before 
the  castle  of  Verbi,  not  to  attack  it,  but  to  speak  with  the 
governor  at  the  barriers,  with  whom  he  was  well  acquainted, 
having  been  together  formerly  in  Prussia.  The  lord  Fitzwalter 
made  himself  known  to  the  lord  de  Verbi,  and  entreated  him, 
out  of  courtesy,  to  send  him  some  wine,  and  in  return  he  would 
prevent  his  estate  from  being  burnt  or  spoiled.  The  lord  de 
Verbi  sent  him  a  large  quantity,  and  thirty  great  loaves  with  it; 
for  which  the  lord  Fitzwalter  was  very  thankful,  and  kept  his 
promise. 

On  the  day  of  the  feast  of  our  Lady,  Gauvain  Micaille  and 
Joachim  Cator  were  armed,  and  mounted  to  finish  their  engage- 
ment. They  met  each  other  roughly  with  spears,  and  the 
French  squire  tilted  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  earl ;  but 
the  Englishman  kept  his  spear  too  low,  and  at  last  struck  it 
into  the  thigh  of  the  Frenchman.  The  earl  of  Buckingham,  as 
well  as  the  other  lords,  were  much  enraged  at  this,  and  said  it 
was  tilting  dishonourably ;  but  he  excused  himself  by  declaring 
it  was  solely  owing  to  the  restiveness  of  his  horse.  Then  were 
given  the  three  thrusts  with  the  sword ;  and  the  earl  declared 
they  had  done  enough,  and  would  not  have  it  longer  continued, 
for  he  perceived  the  French  squire  bled  exceedingly:  the  other 
lords  were  of  the  same  opinion.  Gauvain  Micaille  was  there- 
fore disarmed  and  his  wound  dressed.  The  earl  sent  him  one 
hundred  francs  by  a  herald,  with  leave  to  return  to  his  own 
garrison  in  safety,  adding  that  he  had  acquitted  himself  much 
to  his  satisfaction.  Gauvain  Micaille  went  back  to  the  lords  of 
France;  and  the  English  departed  from  Marchenoir,  taking 
the  road  to  Vendome;  but  before  they  arrived  there,  they 
quartered  themselves  in  the  forest  of  Coulombiers. 


FROISSART.  105 


TILTS  AND  TOURNAMENTS  PERFORMED  BEFORE  THE  EARL 
OF  BUCKINGHAM  BETWEEN  CERTAIN  FRENCH  AND 
ENGLISH    KNIGHTS. 

At  the  time  when  Gaiivain  Micaille  and  Joachim  Cator  per- 
formed their  combat  before  the  earl  of  Buckingham  and  the 
Enghsh  lords,  certain  knights  and  squires  from  France  had 
come  as  spectators  to  Marchenoir,  near  Blois,  when  sir  Reginald 
de  Touars,  lord  de  Pousanges,  a  baron  of  Poitou,  had  some 
words  with  the  lord  de  Vertain,  and  said  he  would  like  to  tilt 
with  him  three  courses  with  the  lance  and  three  strokes  with 
the  battle-axe.  The  lord  de  Vertain,  wishing  not  to  refuse,  was 
eager  to  accommodate  him  immediately,  whatever  might  be  the 
event:  but  the  earl  of  Buckingham  w^ould  not  consent,  and 
forbade  the  knight  at  that  time  to  think  of  it. 

What  had  been  said  relative  to  this  feat  of  arms  was  not  for- 
gotten by  the  two  knights.  Similar  words  had  passed  that  same 
day  between  a  squire  from  Savoye,  called  the  bastard  Clarius, 
and  Edward  Beauchamp,  son  of  sir  Robert  Beauchamp ;  and 
also  between  sir  Tristan  de  la  Jaille  and  sir  John  d'Ambreti- 
court;  sir  John  de  Chatelmorant  and  Jannequin  Clinton;  and 
le  Gallois  d'Aunay  and  sir  William  Clinton ;  between  sir  Hoyau 
d'Araines  and  sir  William  France :  but  these  were  all  set  aside 
like  the  first. 

During  the  time  the  English  were  quartered  in  the  suburbs  of 
Nantes,  these  French  knights  and  squires  were  within  the  town. 
The  lord  de  Vertain  and  the  others  were  requested  by  the 
French  knights  to  deliver  them  from  their  engagements  while 
they  were  before  Nantes ;  but  the  governors  in  Nantes  would 
not  consent,  and  excused  their  friends  by  saying  they  were  in 
Nantes  as  soldiers,  entrusted  with  the  guard  and  defence  of  the 
town.  Nothing  more  passed  until  the  earl  of  Buckingham's 
army  were  fixed  in  their  quarters  at  Vannes,  Hennebon,  Quim- 
perle,  and  Quimpercorentin,  when  sir  Barrois  des  Barres,  sir 
Hoyau  d'Araines,  and  many  other  knights  and  squires,  came  to 
chateau  Josselin,  seven  leagues  from  Vannes,  where  the  con- 


io6  FROISSART. 

stable  of  France  resided.  The  count  de  la  Marche,  with  several 
knights,  were  also  there,  who  were  very  glad  to  see  them,  and 
received  them  handsomely.  They  informed  the  constable  of  all 
that  had  passed,  and  that  such  and  such  persons  had  under- 
taken deeds  of  prowess  against  others  of  the  English.  The 
constable  heard  this  with  pleasure,  and  said,  "  Send  to  them ; 
we  will  grant  them  passports,  to  perform  these  deeds  of  arms,  if 
they  be  willing  to  come." 

Le  Gallois  d'Aunay  and  sir  Hoyau  d'Araines  were  the  first 
to  say  they  were  ready  to  perform  their  engagement  of  three 
courses  with  the  spear,  on  horseback.  When  sir  William 
Clinton  and  sir  William  France  heard  they  were  called  upon 
by  the  French  to  perform  their  challenges  they  were  much 
rejoiced,  and  took  leave  of  the  earl  and  barons  of  England  to 
go  thither.  They  were  accompanied  by  many  knights  and 
squires.  The  English  and  French  tilted  very  handsomely,  and 
performed  their  deeds  of  arms  as  the  rules  required.  Then  sir 
Reginald  de  Touars,  sir  Tristan  de  la  Jaille,  sir  John  de  Chatel- 
morant,  and  the  bastard  Clarius,  summoned  each  of  them  his 
knight  or  squire ;  that  is  to  say,  the  lord  de  Vertain,  sir  John 
d'Ambreticourt,  Edward  Beauchamp,  and  Jannequin  Clinton. 
These  four  were  so  eager  for  the  combat  that  they  wished  to  go 
to  chateau  Josselin  on  the  passports  of  the  constable ;  but  the 
earl  of  Buckingham,  hearing  at  Vannes  the  summons  from  the 
French,  said  aloud  to  the  heralds,  "  You  will  tell  the  constable, 
from  the  earl  of  Buckingham,  that  he  is  equally  powerful  to 
grant  passports  to  the  French  as  he  may  be  to  grant  them  to 
the  English  ;  and  to  all  those  who  may  wish  to  perform  any 
deeds  of  arms  with  his  knights,  on  their  arrival  at  Vannes,  he 
will,  out  of  his  affection  to  them,  give  passports,  and  to  all  who 
may  choose  to  accompany  them,  both  for  their  stay  and  for 
their  return." 

When  the  constable  heard  this  he  instantly  perceived  the  earl 
was  in  the  right,  and  that  he  wanted  to  see  those  deeds  of 
arms  :  it  was  but  reasonable  there  should  be  as  many  performed 
at  Vannes  as  had  been  before  him  at  chateau  Josselin.  The 
constable  therefore  said,  "  The  earl  of  Buckingham  speaks  like 


I 


FROISSART.  107 

a  valiant  man  and  a  king's  son,  and  I  will  that  what  he  says 
shall  be  believed :  let  me  know  those  who  may  be  desirous  of 
accompanying^  the  challengers  and  we  will  send  for  a  proper 
passport."  Thirty  knights  and  squires  immediately  stepped 
forth :  a  herald  came  to  Vannes  for  the  passport,  which  was 
given  to  him,  sealed  by  the  earl  of  Buckingham.  The  three 
knights  who  were  to  perform  their  deeds  of  amis  set  out  from 
chateau  Josselin,  attended  by  the  others,  and  came  to  Vannes, 
where  they  were  lodged  in  the  suburbs,  and  the  English  enter- 
tained them  well.  On  the  morrow  they  made  preparations  for 
the  combat,  as  it  behoved  them  to  do,  and  advanced  to  a 
handsome  space,  which  was  large  and  even,  on  the  outside  of 
the  town.  Afterwards  came  the  earl  of  Buckingham,  the  earl 
of  Stafford,  the  earl  of  Devonshire,  and  other  barons,  with  those 
who  were  to  engage  in  this  deed  of  arms :  the  lord  de  Vertain 
against  sir  Reginald  de  Touars,  lord  de  Pousanges;  sir  John 
d'Ambreticourt  against  Tristan  de  la  Jaille ;  Edward  Beauchamp 
against  the  bastard  Clarius  de  Savoye. 

The  French  took  their  places  at  one  end  of  the  lists,  and  the 
English  at  the  other.  Those  who  were  to  tilt  were  on  foot 
completely  armed,  with  helmets,  vizors,  and  provided  with 
lances  of  good  steel  from  Bordeaux,  with  which  they  performed 
as  follows : — 

First,  the  lord  de  Pousanges  and  the  lord  de  Vertain,  two 
barons  of  high  renown  and  great  courage,  advanced  towards 
each  other  on  foot,  holding  their  sharp  spears  in  their  hands, 
with  a  good  pace;  they  did  not  spare  themselves,  but  struck 
their  lances  lustily  against  each  other  in  pushing.  The  lord 
de  Vertain  was  hit,  without  being  wounded;  but  the  lord  de 
Pousanges  received  such  a  stroke  that  it  pierced  through  the 
mail  and  steel  breastplate  and  everything  underneath,  so  that 
the  blood  gushed  out,  and  it  was  a  great  wonder  he  was  not 
more  seriously  wounded.  They  finished  their  three  courses  and 
the  other  deeds  of  arms  without  further  mischief,  when  they 
retired  to  repose  themselves,  and  to  be  spectators  of  the  actions 
of  the  others.  Sir  John  d'Ambreticourt,  who  was  from  Hainault, 
and  sir  Tristan  de  la  Jaille,  from  Poitou,  next  advanced,  and 


io8  FROISSART. 

performed  their  courses  very  valiantly,  without  hurt  to  either, 
when  they  also  retired. 

Then  came  the  last,  Edward  Beauchamp  and  Clarius  de 
Savoye.  This  bastard  was  a  hardy  and  strong  squire,  and 
much  better  formed  in  all  his  limbs  than  the  Englishman.  | 
They  ran  at  each  other  with  a  hearty  good  will:  both 
struck  their  spears  on  their  adversary's  breast ;  but  Edward 
was  knocked  down  on  the  ground,  which  much  vexed  his 
countrymen.  When  he  was  raised  up  he  took  his  spear,  and 
they  advanced  again  to  the  attack;  but  the  Savoyard  drove 
him  backward  to  the  earth,  which  more  enraged  the  English ; 
they  said  Edward's  strength  was  not  a  match  for  this  Savoyard, 
and  the  devil  was  in  him  to  make  him  think  of  tilting  against 
one  of  such  superior  force.  He  w^as  carried  off  among  them, 
and  declared  he  would  not  engage  further.  When  Clarius  saw 
this,  wishing  to  finish  his  course  of  arms,  he  said,  "  Gentlemen, 
you  do  not  use  me  well ;  since  Edward  wishes  not  to  go  on, 
send  me  some  one  with  whom  I  may  complete  my  courses." 

The  earl  of  Buckingham  would  know  what  Clarius  had  said, 
and,  when  it  was  told  him,  replied  that  the  Frenchman  had 
spoken  well  and  valiantly.  An  English  squire  then  stepped 
forth,  who  was  since  knighted,  and  called  Jannequin  Finchley, 
and,  coming  before  the  earl,  kneeled  down  and  entreated  his 
permission  to  tilt  with  Clarius,  to  which  the  earl  assented. 
Jannequin  very  completely  armed  himself  on  the  spot;  then 
each,  seizing  his  spear,  made  thrusts  at  the  other,  and  with 
such  violence  that  their  spears  were  shivered,  and  the  stumps 
of  them  flew  over  their  heads.  They  began  their  second  attack, 
and  their  lances  were  again  broken;  so  were  they  in  the  third. 
All  their  lances  were  broken,  which  was  considered  by  the  lords 
and  spectators  as  a  decisive  proof  of  their  gallantry.  They  then 
drew  their  swords,  which  were  strong;  and,  in  six  strokes,  four 
of  them  were  broken.  They  were  desirous  of  fighting  with 
battle-axes,  but  the  earl  would  not  consent  to  more  being  done, 
saying  they  had  sufficiently  shown  their  courage  and  abilities. 
Upon  this  they  both  retired;  when  sir  John  de  Chatelmorant 
and  Jannequin  Clinton  advanced.     This  Jannequin  was  squire 


FROISSART.  109 

of  honour  to  the  carl  of  Buckingham,  and  the  nearest  about  his 
person;  but  he  was  lightly  made  and  delicate  in  his  form.  The 
earl  was  uneasy  that  he  should  have  been  matched  with  one  so 
stout  and  renowned  in  arms  as  John  de  Chatelmorant:  notwith- 
standing, they  were  put  to  the  trial,  and  attacked  each  other 
most  vigorously;  but  the  Englishman  could  not  withstand  his 
opponent,  for,  in  pushing,  he  was  very  roughly  struck  to  the 
ground;  on  which  the  earl  said  they  were  not  fairly  matched. 
Some  of  the  earl's  people  came  to  Jannequin,  and  said,  "Janne- 
quin,  you  are  not  sufficiently  strong  to  continue  this  combat ; 
and  my  lord  of  Buckingham  is  angry  with  you  for  having 
undertaken  it ;  retire  and  repose  yourself."  The  Englishman 
having  retired,  John  de  Chatelmorant  said,  "Gentlemen,  it 
seems  your  squire  is  too  weak;  choose  another,  I  beg  of  you, 
more  to  your  Hking,  that  I  may  accomplish  the  deeds  of  arms  I 
have  engaged  to  perform  ;  for  I  shall  be  very  disgracefully 
treated  if  I  depart  hence  without  having  completed  them." 

The  constable  and  marshal  of  the  army  replied,  "  You  speak 
well,  and  you  shall  be  gratified."  It  was  then  told  to  the 
surrounding  knights  and  squires  that  one  of  them  must  deliver 
the  lord  de  Chatelmorant.  On  these  words,  sir  William  Far- 
rington  immediately  replied  :  "  Tell  him  he  shall  not  depart 
without  combating:  let  him  go  and  repose  himself  a  little  in 
his  chair,  and  he  shall  soon  be  delivered ;  for  I  will  arm  myself 
against  him."  This  answer  was  very  pleasing  to  John  de 
Chatelmorant,  who  went  to  his  seat  to  rest  himself.  The 
English  knight  was  soon  ready  and  in  the  field.  They  placed 
themselves  opposite  to  each  other,  when,  taking  their  lances, 
they  began  their  course  on  foot  to  tilt  with  their  spears  within 
the  four  members ;  for  it  was  esteemed  disgraceful  to  hit  any 
part  but  the  body. 

They  advanced  to  each  other  with  great  courage,  completely 
armed,  the  vizor  down  and  helmet  tightly  fixed  on.  John  de 
Chatelmorant  gave  the  knight  such  a  blow  on  the  helmet  that 
sir  William  Farrington  staggered  some  little,  on  account  of  his 
foot  slipping:  he  kept  his  spear  stifily  with  both  hands,  and, 
lowering  it  by  the  stumble  he  made,  struck  John  de  Chatel- 


no  FROISSART. 

morant  on  the  thighs;  he  could  not  avoid  it;  and  the  spear- 
head passed  through,  and  came  out  the  length  of  one's  hand  on 
the  other  side.  John  de  Chatelmorant  reeled  with  the  blow, 
but  did  not  fall. 

The  English  knights  were  much  enraged  at  this,  and  said  it 
was  infamously  done.  The  Englishman  excused  himself  by 
saying  "he  was  extremely  sorry  for  it;  and  if  he  had  thought 
it  would  have  so  happened  at  the  commencement  of  the 
combat,  he  would  never  have  undertaken  it :  but  that  he  could 
not  help  it,  for  his  foot  slipped  from  the  violence  of  the  blow 
he  had  received."  Thus  the  matter  was  passed  over.  The 
French,  after  taking  leave  of  the  earl  and  other  lords,  departed, 
carrying  with  them  John  de  Chatelmorant  in  a  litter,  to  chateau 
Josselin,  whence  they  had  come,  and  where  he  was  in  great 
danger  of  his  life  from  the  effects  of  this  wound. 

These  deeds  of  arms  being  finished,  each  retired  to  his 
home ;  the  English  to  Vannes,  the  French  to  chateau  Josselin. 


WAT  TYLER'S   REBELLION. 

While  these  conferences  were  going  forward,  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.  Re- 
bellion 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  curry  it  home  to  the  barn,  to  thrash  and 


FROISSART.  Ill 

winnow  it :  they  are  also  bound  to  harvest  the  hay  and  carry  it 
home.  All  these  services  they  are  obliy^ed  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  that  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  laboured  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  everything 
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  have  they  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 
w  hat  can  they  show,  or  what  reasons  give,  why  they  should  be 
more  the  masters  than  ourselves  ?  except,  perhaps,  in  making 
us  labour  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  hand- 
some seats  and  manors,  when  we  must  brave  the  wind  and  rain 


112  FROISSART. 

in  our  labours  in  the  field ;  but  it  is  from  our  labour  that  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  favourable  answer,  or  we  must  then 
seek  ourselves  to  amend  our  condition." 

With  such  words  as  these  did  John  Ball  harangue  the  people, 
at  his  village,  eveiy  Sunday  after  mass,  for  which  he  was  much 
beloved  by  them.  Some  who  wished  no  good  declared  it  was 
very  true,  and  murmuring  to  each  other,  as  they  were  going  to 
the  fields,  on  the  road  from  one  village  to  another,  or  at  their 
different  houses,  said,  "John  Ball  preaches  such  and  such  things, 
and  he  speaks  truth." 

The  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  on  being  informed  of  this, 
had  John  Ball  arrested,  and  imprisoned  for  two  or  three  months 
by  way  of  punishment ;  but  it  would  have  been  better  if  he  had 
been  confined  during  his  life,  or  had  been  put  to  death,  than  to 
have  been  suffered  thus  to  act.  The  archbishop  set  him  at 
liberty,  for  he  could  not  for  conscience'  sake  have  put  him  to 
death.  The  moment  John  Ball  was  out  of  prison,  he  returned 
to  his  former  errors.  Numbers  in  the  city  of  London  having 
heard  of  his  preaching,  being  envious  of  the  rich  men  and 
nobility,  began  to  say  among  themselves  that  the  kingdom  was 
too  badly  governed,  and  the  nobility  had  seized  on  all  the  gold 
and  silver  coin.  These  wicked  Londoners,  therefore,  began  to 
assemble  and  to  rebel:  they  sent  to  tell  those  in  the  adjoining 
counties  they  might  come  boldly  to  London,  and  bring  their 
companions  with  them,  for  they  would  find  the  town  open  to 
them,  and  the  commonalty  in  the  same  way  of  thinking ;  that 
they  would  press  the  king  so  much  there  should  no  longer  be  a 
slave  in  England. 


ft 


FROISSART,  113 

These  promises  stirred  up  those  in  the  counties  of  Kent, 
Essex,  Sussex,  and  Bedford,  and  the  adjoining  country,  so  that 
they  marched  towards  London  ;  and,  when  they  arrived  near, 
they  were  upwards  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  a  risk  of  having  the  suburbs  burnt. 

The  gates  were  therefore  thrown  open,  when  they  entered  in 
troops  of  one  or  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  to  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  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  w^ell  as  they  could. 

The  same  day  that  these  wicked  men  of  Kent  were  on  their 
road  towards  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 

8 


114  FROISSART, 

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  carl  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. 

On  Monday  preceding  the  feast  of  the  Holy  Sacrament,  in 
the  year  138 1,  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,  Suftblk,  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. 

Those  who  had  come  to  Canterbury  entered  the  church  of 
St.  Thomas,  and  did  much  damage:  they  pillaged  the  apart- 
ments of  the  archbishop,  saying,  as  they  were  carrying  off 
different  articles:  "This  chancellor  of  England  has  had  this 
piece  of  furniture  very  cheap:  he  must  now  give  us  an  account 
of  the  revenues  of  England,  and  of  the  large  sums  he  has  levied 
since  the  coronation  of  the  king."     After  they  had  defrauded 


FROISSART.  115 

the  abbey  of  St.  Vincent,  they  set  off  in  the  morning,  and  all 
the  populace  of  Canterbury  with  them,  taking  the  road  towards 
Rochester.  They  collected  the  people  from  the  villages  to  the 
right  and  left,  and  marched  along  like  a  tempest,  destroying 
eveiy  house  of  an  attorney  or  king's  proctor,  or  that  belonged  to 
the  archbishop,  sparing  none. 

On  their  arrival  at  Rochester  they  were  much  feasted,  for 
the  people  were  waiting  for  them,  being  of  their  party.  They 
advanced  to  the  castle,  and  seizing  a  knight  called  sir  John  de 
Newtoun,  who  was  constable  of  it  and  captain  of  the  town,  they 
told  him  that  he  must  accompany  them  as  their  commander- 
in-chief,  and  do  whatever  they  should  wish.  The  knight  en- 
deavoured to  excuse  himself,  and  oftered  good  reasons  for  it,  if 
they  had  been  listened  to;  but  they  said  to  him,  "Sir  John,  if 
you  will  not  act  as  we  shall  order,  you  are  a  dead  man."  The 
knight,  seeing  this  outrageous  mob  ready  to  kill  him,  complied 
with  their  request,  and  very  unwillingly  put  himself  at  their 
head.  They  had  acted  in  a  similar  manner  in  the  other  counties 
of  England,  in  Essex,  Suffolk,  Cambridge,  Bedford,  Stafford, 
Warwick,  and  Lincoln,  where  they  forced  great  lords  and 
knights,  such  as  the  lord  Manley,  a  great  baron,  sir  Stephen 
Hales,  and  sir  Thomas  Cossington,  to  lead  and  march  with  them. 
Now,  observe  how  fortunately  matters  turned  out,  for  had  they 
succeeded  in  their  intentions  they  would  have  destroyed  the 
whole  nobility  of  England:  after  this  success,  the  people  of 
other  nations  would  have  rebelled,  taking  example  from  those 
of  Ghent  and  Flanders,  who  were  in  actual  rebellion  against 
their  lord.  In  this  same  year  the  Parisians  acted  a  similar 
part,  arming  themselves  with  leaden  maces.  They  were 
upwards  of  twenty  thousand,  as  I  shall  relate  when  I  come 
to  that  part  of  my  history;  but  I  will  first  go  on  with  this 
rebellion  in  England. 

When  those  who  had  lodged  at  Rochester  had  done  all  they 
wanted,  they  departed,  and,  crossing  the  river,  came  to  Dartford, 
but  always  following  their  plan  of  destroying  the  houses  of 
lawyers  or  proctors  on  the  right  and  left  of  their  road.  In  their 
way  they  cut  off  several  men's  heads,  and  continued  their  march 


ii6  FROISSART. 

to  Blackheath,  where  they  fixed  their  quarters :  they  said  they 
were  armed  for  the  king  and  commons  of  England.  When  the 
citizens  of  London  found  they  were  quartered  so  near  them, 
they  closed  the  gates  of  London  Bridge :  guards  were  placed 
there  by  orders  of  sir  William  Walworth,  mayor  of  London, 
and  several  rich  citizens  who  were  not  of  their  party ;  but  there 
were  in  the  city  more  than  thirty  thousand  who  favoured  them. 

Those  who  were  at  Blackheath  had  information  of  this;  they 
sent,  therefore,  their  knight  to  speak  with  the  king,  and  to  tell 
him  that  what  they  were  doing  was  for  his  service,  for  the 
kingdom  had  been  for  several  years  wretchedly  governed,  to 
the  great  dishonour  of  the  realm  and  to  the  oppression  of  the 
lower  ranks  of  the  people,  by  his  uncles,  by  the  clergy,  and  in 
particular  by  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  his  chancellor,  from 
whom  they  would  have  an  account  of  his  ministry.  The  knight 
dared  not  say  nor  do  anything  to  the  contrary,  but,  advancing 
to  the  Thames  opposite  the  Tower,  he  took  boat  and  crossed 
over.  While  the  king  and  those  with  him  in  the  Tower  were  in 
great  suspense,  and  anxious  to  receive  some  intelligence,  the 
knight  came  on  shore:  way  was  made  for  him,  and  he  was 
conducted  to  the  king,  who  was  in  an  apartment  with  the 
princess  his  mother.  There  were  also  with  the  king  his  two 
maternal  brothers,  the  earl  of  Kent  and  sir  John  Holland,  the 
earls  of  Salisbury,  Warwick,  Suffolk,  the  archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, the  great  prior  of  the  Templars  in  England,  sir  Robert  de 
Namur,  the  lord  de  Vertain,  the  lord  de  Gommegines,  sir  Henry 
de  Sausselles,  the  mayor  of  London,  and  several  of  the  principal 
citizens. 

Sir  John  Newtoun,  who  was  well  known  to  them  all,  for  he 
was  one  of  the  king's  officers,  cast  himself  on  his  knees  and 
said:  "My  much  redoubted  lord,  do  not  be  displeased  with 
me  for  the  message  I  am  about  to  deliver  to  you ;  for,  my  dear 
lord,  through  force  I  am  come  hither."  "  By  no  means,  sir 
John  ;  tell  us  what  you  are  charged  with  :  we  hold  you  excused." 
"  My  very  redoubted  lord,  the  commons  of  your  realm  send  me 
to  you  to  entreat  you  would  come  and  speak  with  them  on 
Blackheath.     They  wish  to  have  no  one  but  yourself;  and  you 


FROISSART.  X17 

need  not  fear  for  your  person,  for  they  will  not  do  you  the  least 
harm:  they  always  have  respected  and  will  respect  you  as  their 
king;  but  they  will  tell  you  many  things,  which  they  say  it  is 
necessary  you  should  hear;  with  which,  however,  they  have  not 
empowered  me  to  acquaint  you.  But,  dear  lord,  have  the  good- 
ness to  give  me  such  an  answer  as  may  satisfy  them,  and  that 
they  may  be  convinced  I  have  really  been  in  your  presence ;  for 
they  have  my  children  as  hostages  for  my  return,  whom  they 
will  assuredly  put  to  death  if  I  do  not  go  back." 

The  king  replied,  "You  shall  speedily  have  an  answer." 
Upon  this  he  called  a  council  to  consider  what  was  to  be  done. 
The  king  was  advised  to  say  that  if  on  Thursday  they  would 
come  down  to  the  river  Thames,  he  would  without  fail  speak 
with  them.  Sir  John  Newtoun,  on  receiving  this  answer,  was 
well  satisfied  therewith,  and,  taking  leave  of  the  king  and 
barons,  departed:  having  entered  his  boat,  he  recrossed  the 
Thames  and  returned  to  Blackheath,  where  he  had  left  upwards 
of  sixty  thousand  men.  He  told  them  from  the  king,  that  if 
they  would  send  on  the  morrow  morning  their  leaders  to  the 
Thames,  the  king  would  come  and  hear  what  they  had  to  say. 
This  answer  gave  great  pleasure,  and  they  were  contented  with 
it:  they  passed  the  night  as  well  as  they  could;  but  you  must 
know  that  one-fourth  of  them  fasted  for  want  of  provision,  as 
they  had  not  brought  any  with  them,  at  which  they  were  much 
vexed,  as  may  be  supposed. 

At  this  time  the  earl  of  Buckingham  was  in  Wales,  where  he 
possessed  great  estates  in  right  of  his  wife,  who  was  daughter 
of  the  earl  of  Hereford  and  Northampton;  but  the  common 
report  about  London  was  that  he  favoured  these  people;  some 
assured  it  for  a  truth,  as  having  seen  him  among  them,  because 
there  was  one  Thomas  very  much  resembling  him  from  the 
county  of  Cambridge.  As  for  the  English  barons  who  were 
at  Plymouth  making  preparations  for  their  voyage,  they  had 
heard  of  this  rebellion,  and  that  the  people  were  rising  in  all 
parts  of  the  kingdom.  Fearful  lest  their  voyage  should  be 
prevented,  or  that  the  populace,  as  they  had  done  at  South- 
ampton, Winchelsea,  and  Arundel,  should  attack  them,  they 


Ti8  FROISSAI^T. 

heaved  their  anchors,  and  with  some  difficulty  left  the  harbour, 
for  the  wind  was  against  them,  and  put  to  sea,  when  they  cast 
anchor  to  wait  for  a  wind. 

The  duke  of  Lancaster  was  on  the  borders,  between  la 
Morlane,  Roxburgh,  and  Melrose,  holding  conferences  with 
the  Scots :  he  had  also  received  intelligence  of  this  rebellion, 
and  the  danger  his  person  was  in,  for  he  well  knew  he  was 
unpopular  with  the  common  people  of  England.  Notwith- 
standing this,  he  managed  his  treaty  very  prudently  with  the 
Scots  commissioners,  the  earl  of  Douglas,  the  earl  of  Moray, 
the  earl  of  Sutherland,  the  earl  of  Mar,  and  Thomas  de  Vesey. 
The  Scotsmen  who  were  conducting  the  treaty  on  the  part  of 
the  king  and  the  country  knew  also  of  the  rebellion  in  England, 
and  how  the  populace  were  rising  everywhere  against  the 
nobility.  They  said  that  England  was  shaken  and  in  great 
danger  of  being  ruined,  for  which  m  their  treaties  they  bore 
the  harder  on  the  duke  of  Lancaster  and  his  council. 

We  will  now  return  to  the  commonalty  of  England,  and  say 
how  they  continued  in  their  rebellion. 

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  towards  Rother- 
hithe,  a  manor  belonging  to  the  crown,  where  were  upwards  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  m  hell  had  been  in  their  company.  They  had  their 
knight,  sir  John  Newtoun,  with  them  ;  for,  in  case  the  king 
had  not  come  and  they  found  he  had  made  a  jest  of  them, 
they  would,  as  they  had  threatened,  have  cut  him  to  pieces. 

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; 
"  1  am  come  hither  to  hear  what  you  have  to  say."    Those  near 


FROISSART.  119 

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  arc."  The  earl  of  Salisbury  then  replied  for  the  kiui,'", 
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  mto  the 
suburbs  of  London,  which  were  very  handsome  and  extensive, 
they  pulled  down  many  fine  houses:  in  particular,  they  de- 
molished the  prison  of  the  king  called  the  Marshalsea,  and 
set  at  liberty  all  those  confined  wdthin  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,  w^hen  crowds  rushed  m,  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  hand- 
some 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, 


126  FJ?07SSAJ?T. 

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  what- 
ever 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  for- 
gotten 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. 

Towards  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  them- 
selves 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, 


PROISSART.  121 

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 
six  score  companions  completely  armed,  who  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  upwards  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  humouredly  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  time, 
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  t-o  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  destruc- 
tion 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 


122  FROISSART. 

king,  attended  by  his  two  brothers,  the  earls  of  Salisbury,  of 
Warwick,  of  Suflblk,  sir  Robert  de  Namur,  the  lords  de  Verlain 
and  de  Gommegincs,  with  several  others,  had  passed  through 
them,  Wat  Tyler,  Jack  Straw,  and  John  Ball,  with  upwards  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  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  serjeant-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  com- 
forted by  the  king  her  son,  as  you  shall  presently  hear. 

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  up- 
wards 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,  1  am 
your  king  and  your  lord:  what  is  it  you  want }  and  what  do  you 
wish  to  say  to  me  ? "  Those  who  heard  hmi  answered,  "  We 
wish  thou  wouldst  make  us  free  for  ever,  us,  our  heirs  and  our 
lands,  and  that  we  should  no  longer  be  called  slaves,  nor  held 


FROISSART.  123 

in  bondage."  The  kin>;  replied,  "I  grant  your  wish:  now, 
therefore,  return  to  your  homes  and  the  places  from  whence  you 
came,  leaving  behind  two  or  three  men  from  each  vilhigc,  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  appeased 
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 
towards  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  upwards  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 


tU  FROISSART. 

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 
before  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  towards 
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  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  dis- 
mount, 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  valour;  yet,  notwith- 
standing all  this,  we  know  who  you  are:  you  are  not  a  gentle- 
man, but  the  son  of  a  poor  mason,  just  such  as  ourselves.     Do 


FROISSART.  125 

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, 
eyeing  them  with  inflamed  looks,  answered,  **  ]iegone,  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  dishonour  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  per- 
formed that  day  marvellous  feats  of  arms.  These  wretches 
were  upwards  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. 


126  FROISSART. 

This  day  all  the  rabble  were  ay^ain  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  upwards  of  twenty  thousand,  all  of 
the  same  sort.  Many  more  were  in  the  city,  breakfasting  and 
drinking  Rhenish  and  Malmsey  Madeira  wines,  in  taverns  and 
at  the  houses  of  the  Lombards,  without  paying  for  anything  ;  and 
happy  was  he  who  could  give  them  good  cheer.  Those  who  were 
collected  in  Smithfield  had  the  king's  banners,  which  had  been 
given  to  them  the  preceding  evening;  and  these  reprobates 
wanted  to  pillage  the  city  this  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,  Guildford, 
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  stojiped,  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 


FROISSART.  127 

Eni^land,  we  shall  be  lords  of  it  without  any  opposition." 
There  was  a  doublet-maker  of  London,  called  John  Tide,  who 
had  brou^-^ht  sixty  doublets,  with  which  some  of  the  clowns  had 
dressed  themselves ;  and  on  his  askmg  who  was  to  pay,  for  he 
must  have  for  them  thirty  good  marks,  Tyler  rej)lied,  "  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,  ouyht  to  depart  with- 
out 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  determina- 
tion that  you  shall  all  of  you  have  your  letters  by  villages  and 
i  towns,  as  it  has  been  agreed  on." 

I       As  the  king  finished  speaking,  Wat  Tyler,  casting  his  eyes 
I  around  him,  spied  a  squire  attached  to  the  king-'s  person  bearing 
I  his  sword.     Tyler  mortally  hated  this  squire;  formerly  they  had 
I  had  words  together,  when  the  squire  ill-treated  him.     "  What, 
I  art  thou  there  ?  "  cried  Tyler :  "  give  me  thy  dagger."     "  I  will 
i  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, 
lliough  much  against  his  will.     When  Tyler  took  it,  he  began 
to  play  with  it  and  turn  it  about  in  his  hand,  and,  again  address- 
ing 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 


128  FROISSART. 

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  im- 
pudent for  siich  as  thou."  The  king  then  began  to  be  enraged, 
and  said  to  the  mayor,  "  Lay  hands  on  him." 

Whilst  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  be- 
come such  a  stinking  rascal  as  thou  art  to  use  such  speech  in  the 
presence  of  the  king,  my  natural  lord  ?  I  will  not  live  a  day,  if 
thou  pay  not  for  it."  Upon  this,  he  drew  a  kind  of  scimitar  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  attend- 
ants, 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. 


FROISSART.  129 

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  towards  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 
upwards  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  1  We  see  our  enemies,  who  would  willingly  have 
murdered  us  if  they  had  gained  the  upper  hand."  Sir  Robert 
Knolles  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  w-hen  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 


I30  FROISSART, 

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  behoves  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  a  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  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, 


FROISSART.  131 

in  the  place  of  those  gallant  men  whom  they  beheaded  on  the 
Thursday.  The  news  of  this  was  sent  through  the  neighbour- 
ing counties,  that  those  might  hear  of  it  who  were  on  their  way 
to  London,  according  to  the  orders  these  rebels  had  sent  to 
them:  upon  which  they  instantly  returned  to  their  homes,  with- 
out daring  to  advance  further. 


ESCAPE  OF   THE  EARL  OF   FLANDERS  FROM  BRUGES. 

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 
R'as  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  these  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  guards  to  defend  the  gates  if  the 


132  FROISSART. 

Ghent  men  should  come  thither,  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  in- 
habitants 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  further  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  to  where  the 
Ghent  men  were  drawn  up,  when  several  people  came  to  him 


FROISSART.  133 

and  said,  "  My  lord,  do  not  come  fuitlicr;  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  with- 
out 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  thee  anything  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 


134  FliOISSART. 

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  favour  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  coverlid,  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 ;  for  one  of  them  had  said  he  had  seen 
a  man  go  in  there.  They  found  this  woman  sitting  by  the  fire, 
nursing  her  child,  of  whom  they  demanded,  "  Woman,  where  is 
the  man  we  saw  enter  this  house,  and  shut  the  door  after  him  ?  " 
"  By  my  troth,"  replied  she,  "  I  have  not  seen  any  one  enter 
here  this  night ;  but  I  have  just  been  at  the  door  to  throw  out 
some  water,  which  I  then  shut  after  me ;  besides,  I  have  not  any 
place  to  hide  him  in,  for  you  see  the  whole  of  this  house ;  here 
is  my  bed,  and  my  children  sleep  overhead."  Upon  this  one  of 
them  took  a  candle,  and  mounted  the  ladder,  and,  thrusting  his 


FROISSART,  T35 

head  into  the  phicc,  saw  nothin^-^  l)ut  the  wretclicd  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  poor  woman  speaks  truth: 
there  is  not  a  soul  but  herself  and  her  children."  On  saying 
this,  they  left  the  house  and  went  into  another  quarter;  and  no 
one  afterwards  entered  it  who  had  bad  intentions. 

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. 

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  thorn  bush,  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  "i "  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  adven- 
tures :  endeavour  to  get  me  a  horse,  for  I  am  tired  with  walk- 
ing, and  take  the  road  to  Lille,  if  thou  knowest  it."  "  My  lord," 
answered  the  knight,  "  I  know  it  well."  They  then  travelled  all 
that  night  and  the  morrow  until  early  morn,  before  they  could 


136  FROISSART. 

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,  towards  evening,  to  the  castle  of  Lille,  whither  the 
greater  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. 


BATTLE  OF   ROSEBECQUE  AND  DEATH   OF   PHILIP  VON 
ARTAVELD. 

Philip  von  Artaveld,  with  his  whole  army,  on  the  Wednesday 
evening  preceding  the  battle,  was  encamped  in  a  handsome 
position,  tolerably  strong,  between  a  ditch  and  grove,  and  with 
so  good  a  hedge  in  front  that  they  could  not  easily  be  attacked. 
It  was  between  the  hill  and  town  of  Rosebecque  where  the  king 
was  quartered.  That  same  evening,  Philip  gave  a  magnificent 
supper  to  his  captains  at  his  quarters ;  for  he  had  wherewithal 
to  do  so,  as  his  provisions  followed  him.  When  the  supper  was 
over,  he  addressed  them  in  these  words:  "My  fair  gentlemen, 
you  are  my  companions  in  this  expedition,  and  I  hope  to-morrow 
we  shall  have  something  to  do ;  for  the  king  of  France,  who  is 
impatient  to  meet  and  fight  with  us,  is  quartered  at  Rosebecque. 
I  therefore  beg  of  you  to  be  loyal,  and  not  alarmed  at  anything 
you  shall  see  or  hear;  for  we  are  combating  in  a  just  cause,  to 
preserve  the  franchises  of  Flanders,  and  for  our  right.  Admonish 
your  men  to  behave  well,  and  draw  them  up  in  such  manner 
that,  by  this  means  and  our  courage,  we  may  obtain  the  victory. 
To-morrow,  through  God's  grace,  we  shall  not  find  any  lord  to 
combat  with  us,  or  any  who  will  dare  take  the  field,  unless  he 
mean  to  remain  there,  and  we  shall  gain  greater  honour  than  if 
we  could  have  depended  on  the  support  of  the  English ;  for,  if 
they  had  been  with  us,  they  alone  would  have  gained  all  the 


FROISSART.  T.37 

reputation.  The  whole  flower  of  the  P'icmk  h  nol)ihty  is  with 
the  king,  for  he  has  not  left  one  behind :  order,  therefore,  your 
men  not  to  grant  quarter  to  any  one,  but  to  kill  all  who  fall  in 
their  way.  By  this  means  we  shall  remain  in  peace;  for  I  will 
and  command,  under  pain  of  death,  that  no  prisoners  be  made, 
except  it  be  the  king  of  France.  With  regard  to  the  king,  I 
wish  to  support  him,  as  he  is  but  a  child  and  ought  to  be  for- 
given ;  for  he  knows  not  what  he  does,  and  acts  according  as 
he  is  instructed:  we  will  carry  him  to  Ghent  and  teach  him 
Flemish;  but  as  for  dukes,  earls,  and  other  men-at-arms,  kill 
them  all.  The  common  people  of  France  will  never  be 
angry  with  us  for  so  doing  ;  for  they  wish,  as  I  am  well 
assured,  that  not  one  should  ever  return  to  France,  and  it 
shall  be  so." 

His  companions  who  were  present  at  this  discourse,  and  who 
were  from  the  different  towns  in  Flanders  and  the  country  of 
Bruges,  agreed  to  this  proposal,  which  they  thought  a  proper 
one,  and  with  one  voice  replied  to  Philip,  "  You  say  well,  and 
thus  shall  it  be."  They  then  took  leave  of  Philip,  and  each 
man  returned  to  his  quarters,  to  order  his  men  how  they  were 
to  act  conformably  to  the  instructions  they  had  just  had.  Thus 
passed  the  night  in  the  army  of  Philip:  but  about  midnight,  as 
I  have  been  informed,  there  happened  a  most  wonderful  event, 
and  such  that  I  have  never  heard  anything  equal  to  it  related. 
When  these  Flemish  captains  had  retired,  and  all  gone  to  their 
quarters  to  repose,  the  night  being  far  advanced,  those  upon 
guard  fancied  they  heard  a  great  noise  towards  the  ]Mont  d'Or. 
Some  of  them  were  sent  to  see  what  it  could  be,  and  if  the  French 
were  making  any  preparations  to  attack  them  in  the  night.  On 
their  return,  they  reported  they  had  been  as  far  as  the  place 
whence  the  noise  came,  but  that  they  had  discovered  nothing. 
This  noise,  however,  was  still  heard,  and  it  seemed  to  some  of 
them  that  their  enemies  were  on  the  mount  about  a  league 
distant:  this  was  also  the  opinion  of  a  damsel  from  Ghent 
whom  Philip  von  Aitaveld  had  carried  with  him,  on  this  expe- 
dition, as  his  sweetheart. 

Whilst  Philip  was  sleeping  under  his  tent  on  a  coverlid  near 


138  FROISSART. 

the  coal-fire,  this  damsel  went  out  of  the  tent  about  midnight  to 
examine  the  sky,  and  see  what  sort  of  weather  it  was  and  the 
time  of  night,  for  she  was  unable  to  sleep.  She  looked  towards 
Rosebecque,  and  saw,  in  divers  parts  of  the  sky,  smoke  and 
sparks  of  fire  flying  about,  caused  by  the  fires  the  French  were 
making  under  hedges  and  bushes.  This  woman  listened  atten- 
tively, and  thought  she  heard  a  great  noise  between  their  army 
and  that  of  the  French,  and  also  the  cry  of  Montjoye  and 
several  other  cries ;  and  it  seemed  to  her  that  they  came  from 
the  Mont  d'Or,  between  the  camp  and  Rosebecque.  She  was 
exceedingly  frightened,  returned  to  the  tent,  awakened  Philip, 
and  said  to  him  :  "  Sir,  rise  instantly,  and  arm  yourself ;  for  I 
have  heard  a  great  noise  on  the  Mont  d'Or,  which  I  believe  to 
be  made  by  the  French  who  are  coming  to  attack  you." 

Philip  at  these  words  arose,  and  wrapping  himself  in  a  gown, 
took  a  battle-axe  and  went  out  of  his  tent  to  listen  to  this  noise. 
In  like  manner  as  she  had  heard  it,  Philip  did  the  same ;  and  it 
seemed  to  him  as  if  there  were  a  great  tournament.  He  directly 
returned  to  his  tent,  and  ordered  his  trumpet  to  be  sounded  to 
awaken  the  army.  As  soon  as  the  sound  of  the  trumpet  was 
heard  it  was  known  to  be  his.  Those  of  the  guard  in  front  of 
the  camp  armed  themselves,  and  sent  some  of  their  companions 
to  Philip  to  know  what  he  wished  to  have  done,  as  he  was  thus 
early  arming  himself.  On  their  arrival,  he  wanted  to  send  them 
to  the  part  whence  the  noise  had  come,  to  find  out  what  it 
could  be ;  but  they  reported  that  that  had  already  been  done, 
and  that  there  was  no  cause  found  for  it.  Philip  was  much 
astonished;  and  they  were  greatly  blamed,  that  having  heard 
a  noise  towards  the  enemy's  quarters,  they  had  remained  quiet. 
"  Ha,"  said  they  to  Philip,  "  in  truth  we  did  hear  a  noise  towards 
the  Mont  d'Or,  and  we  sent  to  know  what  it  could  be;  but 
those  who  had  been  ordered  thither  reported  that  there  was 
nothing  to  be  found  or  seen.  Not  having  seen  any  positive 
appearance  of  a  movement  of  the  enemy,  we  were  unwilling  to 
alarm  the  army,  lest  we  should  be  blamed  for  it."  This  speech 
of  the  guard  somewhat  appeased  Philip ;  but  in  his  own  mind 
he  marvelled  much  what  it  could  be.     Some  said  it  was  the 


FROISSART.  139 

devils  of  hell  running;  and  dancing  about  the  place  where  the 
battle  was  to  be,  for  the  abundance  of  prey  they  expected. 

Neither  Philip  von  Artaveld  nor  the  F'lemings  were  quite  at 
their  ease  after  this  alarm.  They  were  suspicious  of  having 
been  betrayed  and  surprised.  They  armed  themselves  leisurely 
with  whatever  they  had,  made  large  fires  in  their  quarters,  and 
breakfasted  comfortably,  for  they  had  victuals  in  abundance. 
About  an  hour  before  day,  Philip  said,  "  I  think  it  right  that  we 
march  into  the  plain  and  draw  up  our  men  ;  because,  should  the 
French  advance  to  attack  us,  we  ought  not  to  be  unprepared, 
nor  in  disorder,  but  properly  drawn  up  like  men,  knowing  well 
what  we  are  to  do."  All  obeyed  this  order,  and,  quitting  their 
quarters,  marched  to  a  heath  beyond  the  grove.  There  was  in 
front  a  wide  ditch  newly  made,  and  in  their  rear  quantities  of 
brambles,  junipers,  and  shrubs.  They  drew  up  at  their  leisure 
in  this  strong  position,  and  formed  one  large  battalion,  thick 
and  strong.  By  the  reports  from  the  constables,  they  were 
about  fifty  thousand,  all  chosen  men,  who  valued  not  their 
lives.  Among  them  were  about  sixty  English  archers,  who, 
having  stolen  away  from  their  companions  at  Calais,  to  gain 
greater  pay  from  Philip,  had  left  behind  them  their  armour  in 
their  quarters. 

Everything  being  arranged,  each  man  took  to  his  arms.  The 
horses,  baggage,  women,  and  varlets  were  dismissed ;  but  Philip 
von  Artaveld  had  his  page  mounted  on  a  superb  courser,  worth 
five  hundred  florins,  which  he  had  ordered  to  attend  him,  to 
display  his  state,  and  to  mount  if  a  pursuit  of  the  French  should 
happen,  in  order  that  he  might  enforce  the  commands  which  he 
had  given  to  kill  all.  It  was  with  this  intention  that  Philip  had 
posted  him  by  his  side.  Philip  had  likewise  from  the  town  of 
Ghent  about  nine  thousand  men,  well  armed,  whom  he  placed 
near  his  person ;  for  he  had  greater  confidence  in  them  than  in 
any  of  the  others :  they  therefore,  with  Philip  at  their  head  with 
banners  displayed,  were  in  front ;  and  those  from  Alost  and 
Grammont  were  next;  then  the  men  from  Courtray,  Bruges, 
Damme,  Sluys,  and  the  Franconate.  They  were  armed,  for  the 
greater  part,  with  bludgeons,  iron  caps,  jerkins,  and  with  gloves 


140  FROISSART. 

defer  de  baleine.  Each  man  had  a  staff  with  an  iron  point,  and 
bound  round  with  iron.  The  different  townsmen  wore  Hveries 
and  arms,  to  distinguish  them  from  one  another.  Some  had 
jackets  of  blue  and  yellow,  others  wore  a  welt  of  black  on  a  red 
jacket,  others  chevroned  with  white  on  a  blue  coat,  others  green 
and  blue,  others  lozenged  with  black  and  white,  others  quartered 
red  and  white,  others  all  blue.  Each  carried  the  banners  of 
their  trades.  They  had  also  large  knives  hanging  down  from 
their  girdles.  In  this  state  they  remained,  quietly  waiting  for 
day,  which  soon  came. 

I  will  now  relate  to  you  the  proceedings  of  the  French  as 
fully  as  I  have  done  those  of  the  Flemings, 

The  king  of  France,  and  the  lords  with  him,  knew  well  that 
the  Flemings  were  advancing,  and  that  a  battle  must  be  the 
consequence ;  for  no  proposals  for  peace  were  offered,  and  all 
seemed  to  have  made  up  their  minds  for  an  engagement.  It 
had  been  proclaimed  on  the  Wednesday  morning  in  the  town 
of  Yp"res,  that  the  men-at-arms  should  follow  the  king  into  the 
field,  and  post  themselves  according  to  the  instructions  they 
had  received.  Every  one  obeyed  this  order,  and  no  man  at 
arms,  or  even  lusty  varlet,  remained  in  Ypres,  except  those 
appointed  to  guard  the  horses,  which  had  been  conducted  to 
Ypres  when  their  lords  dismounted.  However,  the  vanguard 
had  many  with  them  for  the  use  of  their  light  troops,  and  to 
reconnoitre  the  battalions  of  the  enemy;  for  to  them  they  were 
of  more  service  than  to  the  others. 

The  French  on  this  Wednesday  remained  in  the  plain  pretty 
near  to  Rosebecque,  where  the  lords  and  captains  were  busy  in 
arranging  their  plans.  In  the  evening  the  king  gave  a  supper 
to  his  three  uncles,  the  constable  of  France,  the  lord  de  Coucy, 
and  to  some  other  foreign  lords  from  Brabant,  Hainault,  Hol- 
land, Zealand,  Germany,  Lorraine,  and  Savoy,  who  had  come 
thither  to  serve  him.  He,  as  well  as  his  uncles,  thanked  them 
much  for  the  good  services  they  had  done  and  were  willing  to 
do  for  them.  The  earl  of  Flanders  this  evening  commanded 
the  guard  of  the  king's  battalion,  and  had  under  him  six  hundred 
lances,  and  twelve  hundred  other  men. 


IROISSART.  141 

After  the  supper  which  the  kin^^  had  given  on  the  Wednes- 
day to  these  lords,  and  when  they  had  retired,  the  constable 
of  France  remained  to  converse  with  the  king  and  his  uncles. 
It  had  been  arranged  in  the  council  with  the  king,  that  the 
constable,  sir  Oliver  de  Clisson,  should  resign  his  constable- 
ship  for  the  morrow  (as  they  fully  expected  a  battle),  and  that, 
for  the  day  only,  the  lord  de  Coucy  was  to  take  his  place,  and 
sir  Oliver  remain  near  the  king's  person:  so  that  when  the 
constable  was  taking  his  leave,  the  king  said  to  him,  as  he 
had  been  instructed,  in  a  courteous  and  agreeable  manner, 
*'  Constable,  we  will  that  you  resign  to  us,  for  to-morrow  only, 
your  office ;  for  we  have  appointed  another,  and  you  shall 
remain  near  our  person."  These  words,  which  were  new  to 
the  gallant  constable,  surprised  him  so  much  that  he  replied, 
"  Most  dear  lord,  I  well  know  that  I  can  never  be  more  highly 
honoured  than  in  guarding  your  person ;  but,  dear  lord,  it  will 
give  great  displeasure  to  my  companions,  and  those  of  the  van- 
guard, if  they  do  not  see  me  with  them :  and  we  may  lose  more 
than  we  can  gain  by  it.  I  do  not  pretend  that  I  am  so  valiant 
that  the  business  will  be  done  by  me  alone  ;  but  I  declare,  dear 
lord,  under  the  correction  of  your  noble  council,  that  for  these 
last  fifteen  days,  I  have  been  solely  occupied  how  I  could  add 
to  your  honour,  to  that  of  your  army,  and  to  my  own  office. 
I  have  nistructed  the  army  in  the  manner  in  which  they  were 
to  be  drawn  up :  and  if  to-morrow,  under  the  guidance  of  God, 
we  engage,  and  they  do  not  see  me ;  or,  if  I  fail  in  giving  them 
advice  and  support,  I  who  have  always  been  accustomed  in 
such  cases  so  to  do,  they  will  be  thunderstruck ;  some  may  say 
I  am  a  hypocrite,  and  have  done  this  slyly,  in  order  to  escape 
from  the  first  blows.  I  therefore  entreat  of  you,  most  dear  lord, 
that  you  would  not  interfere  in  what  has  been  arranged  and 
ordered  for  the  best,  for  I  must  say  you  will  gain  the  more 
by  it." 

The  king  did  not  know  what  answer  to  make  to  this  speech, 
any  more  than  those  present  who  had  heard  it.  At  last  the 
king  said,  very  properly,  "  Constable,  I  do  not  mean  to  say 
that  it  has  been  any  way  thought  you  have  not,  on  every  occa- 


142  FRO  I SS ART. 

sion,  most  fully  acquitted  yourself,  and  will  still  do  so ;  but  my 
late  lord  and  father  loved  you  more  than  any  other  person,  and 
had  the  greatest  confidence  in  you :  it  is  from  this  love  and  con- 
fidence which  he  reposed  in  you  that  I  should  wish  to  have  you 
on  this  occasion' near  to  me,  and  in  my  company."  "Very  dear 
lord,"  replied  the  constable,  "  you  will  be  so  well  attended  by 
such  valiant  men,  all  having  been  settled  with  the  greatest 
deliberation,  that  it  cannot  any  way  be  amended,  so  that  you 
and  your  council  ought  to  be  satisfied  with  it.  I  therefore  beg 
of  you,  for  the  love  of  God,  most  dear  lord,  that  you  will  permit 
me  to  execute  my  office :  and  to-morrow  your  success  shall 
be  such  that  your  friends  will  be  rejoiced,  and  your  enemies 
enraged." 

To  this  the  king  only  answered,  "  Constable,  I  will  it  be  so : 
in  God's  name,  and  in  the  name  of  St.  Denis,  act  as  becomes 
your  office.  I  will  not  say  one  word  more  to  you  on  the 
subject ;  for  you  see  clearer  in  this  business  than  I  do,  or  those 
who  first  proposed  it.  Be  to-morrow  at  mass."  "Willingly, 
sir,"  replied  the  constable.  He  took  leave  of  the  king,  who 
saluted  him,  and  returned  to  his  quarters,  with  his  attendants 
and  companions. 

On  the  Thursday  morning  all  the  men-at-arms  of  the  army, 
the  vanguard,  the  rearguard,  and  the  king's  battalion,  armed 
themselves  completely,  except  their  helmets,  as  if  they  were 
about  to  engage:  for  the  lords  well  knew  the  day  could  not 
pass  without  a  battle,  from  the  reports  of  the  foragers  on  the 
Wednesday  evening,  who  had  seen  the  Flemings  on  their 
march  demanding  a  battle.  The  king  of  France  heard  mass, 
as  did  the  other  lords,  who  all  devoutly  prayed  to  God  that  the 
day  might  turn  out  to  their  honour.  In  the  morning  there  was 
a  thick  mist,  which  continued  so  long  that  no  one  could  see  the 
distance  of  an  acre:  the  lords  were  much  vexed  at  this,  but  they 
could  not  remedy  it. 

After  the  king's  mass,  which  had  been  attended  by  the 
constable  and  other  great  lords,  it  was  ordered  that  those 
valiant  knights  sir  Oliver  de  Clisson,  constable  of  France,  sir 
John  de  Vienne,  admiral  of  France,  and  sir  William  de  Poitiers, 


FROISSART.  143 

bastard  of  Langres,  who  had  been  long  used  to  arms,  should 
reconnoitre  the  position  of  the  Flemings,  and  report  to  the  king 
and  his  uncles  the  truth  of  it:  during  which  time  the  lord 
d'Albreth  and  sir  Hugh  de  Chatillon  were  employed  in  forming 
the  battalions.  These  three  knights,  leaving  the  king,  set  off 
on  the  flower  of  their  steeds  and  rode  towards  that  part  where 
they  thought  they  should  find  the  Flemings,  and  towards  the 
spot  where  they  had  encamped  the  preceding  night. 

You  must  know  that  on  the  Thursday  morning,  when   the 

thick  mist  came  on,  the  Flemings  having,  as  you  have  before 

heard,  marched,  before  daybreak,  to  this  strong  position,  had 

there  remained  until  about  eight  o'clock,  when,  not  seeing  nor 

hearing  anything  of  the  French,  their  numbers  excited  in  them 

pride  and  self-sufficiency ;  and  their  captains,  as  well  as  others, 

I  began  thus  to  talk  among  themselves :   "  What  are  we  about, 

thus  standing  still,  and  almost  frozen  with  cold  ?     Why  do  we 

I  not  advance  with  courage,  since  such  is  our  inclination,  and 

!  seek  our  enemies   to   combat  them  ?     We  remain  here  to  no 

i  purpose,  for  the  French  will  never  come  to  look  for  us.     Let 

'  us  at  least   march  to  Mont  d'Or,  and  take  advantage  of  the 

mountain."     Many  such  speeches  were  made,  and  they  all  con- 

I  sented  to  march  to  Mont  d'Or,  which  was  between  them  and 

i  the  French.     In  order  to  avoid  the  ditch  in  their  front,  they 

j  turned  the  grove  and  entered  the  plain.     WTiilst  they  were  thus 

■  on  their  march  round  the  grove,  the  three  knights  came  so 

'  opportunely  that  they  reconnoitred  them  at  their  ease,  and  rode 

;  by  the  side  of  their  battalions,  which  were  again  formed  within 

I  a  bow-shot  from  them.     When  they  had  considered  them  on 

;  the  left,  they  did  the  same  on  the  right,  and  thus  carefully  and 

I  fiilly  examined  them.     The  Flemings   saw  them   plainly,   but 

'  paid  not  any  attention  to  them ;  nor  did  any  one  quit  his  ranks. 

'The  three  knights  were  well  mounted,  and  so  much  used  to 

this  business  that  they  cared  not  for  them.     Philip  said  to  his 

captains,  "  Our  enemies  are  near  at  hand :    let  us  draw  up  here 

I  in  battle-array  for  the  combat.     I  have  seen  strong  appear- 

iances  of  their  intentions:  for  these  three  horsemen  who  pass 

'and  repass  have  reconnoitred  us,  and  are  still  doing  so." 


144  FROISSART. 

Upon  this,  the  Flemings  halted  on  the  Mont  d'Or,  and  formed 
in  one  thick  and  strong  battahon  ;  when  Phihp  said  aloud, 
"  Gentlemen,  when  the  attack  begins,  remember  our  enemies 
were  defeated  and  broken  at  the  battle  of  Bruges  by  our  keeping 
in  a  compact  body.  Be  careful  not  to  open  your  ranks,  but  let 
every  man  strengthen  himself  as  much  as  possible  and  bear  his 
staff  right  before  him.  You  will  intermix  your  arms,  so  that 
no  one  may  break  you,  and  march  straight  forward  with  a  good 
step,  without  turning  to  the  right  or  left;  and  act  together, 
so  that,  when  the  conflict  begins,  you  may  throw  your  bom- 
bards and  shoot  with  your  cross-bows  in  such  manner  that  our 
enemies  may  be  thunderstruck  with  surprise." 

When  Philip  had  formed  his  men  in  battle-array,  and  told 
them  how  they  were  to  act,  he  went  to  the  wing  of  his  army  in 
which  he  had  the  greatest  confidence.  Near  him  was  his  page 
on  the  courser,  to  whom  he  said,  "  Go,  wait  for  me  at  that  bush 
out  of  bow-shot ;  and  when  thou  shalt  see  the  discomfiture  of 
the  French  and  the  pursuit  begin,  bring  me  my  horse  and  shout 
my  cry ;  they  will  make  way  for  thee  to  come  to  me,  for  I  wish 
to  be  the  first  in  the  pursuit."  The  page,  on  these  words,  left 
his  master  and  did  as  he  had  ordered  him.  Philip  placed  near 
him,  on  the  side  of  this  wing,  forty  English  archers  whom  he 
had  in  his  pay.  Now,  if  it  be  considered  how  well  Philip  had 
arranged  this  business,  I  am  of  opinion,  and  in  this  I  am  joined 
by  several  others,  that  he  well  knew  the  art  of  war:  but  in  one 
instance,  which  I  will  relate,  he  acted  wrong.  It  was  in  quitting 
the  first  strong  position  he  had  taken  in  the  morning;  for  they 
never  would  have  sought  to  fight  him  there,  as  it  would  have 
been  too  much  to  their  disadvantage ;  but  he  wished  to  show 
that  his  people  were  men  of  courage,  and  had  little  fear  of  their 
enemies. 

The  three  knights  returned  to  the  king  of  France  and  to  his 
battalions,  which  had  already  been  formed  and  were  marching 
slowly  in  order  of  battle :  for  there  were  many  prudent  and 
brave  men,  who  had  been  long  accustomed  to  arms,  in  the  van- ; 
guard,  in  the  king's  battalion,  and  in  the  rearguard,  who  knew 
well  what  they  were  to  do,  for  they  were  the  flower  of  chivalry  \ 


FROISSART.  145 

in  Christendom.  Way  was  made  for  them ;  and  the  lord  de 
Clisson  spoke  first,  bowing  to  the  kint,^  from  his  horse,  and 
taking  off  the  beaver  he  wore,  saying,  "Sire,  rejoice:  these 
people  are  our  own,  and  our  lusty  varlcts  will  fight  well  with 
them."  "  Constable,"  replied  the  king,  "  God  assist  you  !  now 
advance,  in  the  name  of  God  and  St.  Denis."  The  knights, 
before-mentioned  as  the  king's  body  guard,  now  drew  up  in 
good  order.  The  king  created  many  new  knights,  as  did 
different  lords  in  their  battalions,  so  that  several  new  banners 
were  displayed. 

It  was  ordered  that  when  the  engagement  was  about  to  com- 
mence, the  battalion  of  the  king,  with  the  oriflamme  of  France, 
should  march  to  the  front  of  the  army,  that  the  van  and  rear- 
guards should  form  the  two  wings  as  speedily  as  possible,  and 
by  this  means  enclose  and  straiten  the  Flemings,  who  were 
drawn  up  in  the  closest  order,  and  gain  a  great  advantage  over 
them.  Notice  of  this  intended  movement  was  sent  to  the  rear- 
guard, of  which  the  count  d'Eu,  the  count  de  Blois,  the  count  de 
St.  Pol,  the  count  de  Harcourt,  the  count  de  Chatillon,  and  the 
lord  de  la  Fere  were  commanders.  The  young  lord  de  Haurel 
displayed  his  banner  this  day  before  the  count  de  Blois,  who 
also  knighted  sir  Thomas  d'Istre,  and  the  bastard  sir  James  de 
Hameth.  According  to  the  report  of  the  heralds,  there  were 
this  day  created  four  hundred  and  sixty-seven  knights. 

The  lord  de  Clisson,  sir  John  de  Vienne,  and  sir  William  de 
Langres,  having  made  their  report  to  the  king,  left  him  and 
went  to  their  post  in  the  vanguard.  Shortly  afterwards,  the 
oriflamme  was  displayed  by  sir  Peter  de  Villiers,  who  bore  it. 
Some  say  (as  they  find  it  written)  that  it  was  never  before  dis- 
played against  Christians,  and  that  it  was  a  matter  of  great 
doubt  during  the  march  whether  it  should  be  displayed  or  not. 
However,  the  matter  having  been  fully  considered,  they  resolved 
to  display  it,  because  the  Flemings  followed  opinions  contrary 
to  that  of  pope  Clement,  and  called  themselves  Urbanists ;  for 
which  the  French  said  they  were  rebellious  and  out  of  the  pale 
of  the  church.  This  was  the  principal  cause  why  it  had  been 
brought  and  displayed  in  Flanders. 

10 


146  FROISSART. 

The  oriflamme  was  a  most  excellent  banner,  and  had  been 
sent  from  heaven  with  great  mystery :  it  is  a  sort  of  ganfanon, 
and  is  of  much  comfort  in  the  day  of  battle  to  those  who  see  it. 
Proof  was  made  of  its  virtues  at  this  time;  for  all  the  morning 
there  was  so  thick  a  fog,  that  with  difficulty  could  they  see  each 
other,  but  the  moment  the  knight  had  displayed  it,  and  raised 
his  lance  in  the  air,  this  fog  instantly  dispersed,  and  the  sky  was 
as  clear  as  it  had  been  during  the  whole  year.  The  lords  of 
France  were  much  rejoiced  when  they  saw  this  clear  day,  and 
the  sun  shine,  so  that  they  could  look  about  them  on  all  sides. 

It  was  a  fine  sight  to  view  these  banners,  helmets,  and  beauti- 
ful emblazoned  arms :  the  army  kept  a  dead  silence,  not  uttering 
a  sound,  but  eyed  the  large  battalion  of  Flemings  before  them, 
who  were  marching  in  a  compact  body,  with  their  staves  ad- 
vanced in  the  air,  which  looked  like  spears,  and,  so  great  were 
^  their  numbers,  they  had  the  appearance  of  a  wood.  The  lord 
d'Estonnenort  told  me  that  he  saw  (as  well  as  several  others), 
when  the  oriflamme  was  displayed,  and  the  fog  had  dispersed, 
a  white  dove  fly  many  times  round  the  king's  battalion.  When 
it  had  made  several  circles,  and  the  engagement  was  about  to 
begin,  it  perched  on  one  of  the  king's  banners :  this  was  con- 
sidered as  a  fortunate  omen. 

The  Flemings  advanced  so  near,  that  they  commenced  a 
cannonade  with  bars  of  iron,  and  quarrels  headed  with  brass. 
Thus  was  the  battle  begun  by  Philip  and  his  men  against  the 
king's  battalion,  which  at  the  outset  was  very  sharp:  for  the 
Flemings,  inflamed  with  pride  and  courage,  came  on  with  vigour, 
and,  pushing  with  shoulders  and  breasts  like  enraged  wild  boars, 
they  were  so  strongly  interlaced,  one  with  the  other,  that  they 
could  not  be  broken,  nor  their  ranks  forced.  By  this  attack  of 
cannons  and  bombards,  the  lord  d'Albaruin,  banneret,  IMorlet 
de  Haruin,  and  James  Dord,  on  the  side  of  the  French,  were 
first  slain,  and  the  king's  battalion  obliged  to  fall  back.  But 
the  van  and  rear-guards  pushed  forward,  and,  by  enclosing  the 
Flemings,  straitened  them  much.  Upon  the  two  wings  these 
men-at-arms  made  their  attack:  and,  with  their  well-tempered 
lances  of  Bordeaux,  pierced  through  their  coats-of-mail  to  the 


FROJSSART.  147 

flesh.  All  who  were  assailed  by  them  drew  back  to  avoid  the 
blows,  for  never  would  those  that  escaped  return  to  the  combat: 
by  this  means,  the  Flemings  were  so  straitened  that  they  could 
not  use  their  staves  to  defend  themselves.  They  lost  both 
strength  and  breath,  and,  falling  upon  one  another,  were  stifled 
to  death  without  striking  a  blow. 

Philip  von  Artaveld  was  surrounded,  wounded  by  spears,  and 
beaten  down,  with  numbers  of  the  Ghent  men,  who  were  his 
guards.  When  Philip's  page  saw  the  ill-success  of  his  country- 
men, being  well  mounted  on  his  courser,  he  set  off,  and  left  his 
master,  for  he  could  not  give  him  any  assistance,  and  returned 
towards  Courtray,  on  his  way  to  Ghent.  When  the  Flemings 
found  themselves  enclosed  on  two  sides,  there  was  an  end  to  the 
business,  for  they  could  not  assist  each  other.  The  king's  bat- 
talion, which  had  been  somewhat  disordered  at  the  beginning, 
now  recovered.  The  men-at-arms  knocked  down  the  Flemings 
with  all  their  might.  They  had  well-sharpened  battle-axes,  with 
which  they  cut  through  helmets  and  disbrained  heads :  others 
gave  such  blows  with  leaden  maces  that  nothing  could  with- 
stand them.  Scarcely  were  the  Flemings  overthrown  before 
the  pillagers  advanced,  who,  mixing  with  the  men-at-arms,  made 
use  of  the  large  knives  they  carried,  and  finished  slaying  who- 
ever fell  into  their  hands,  without  more  mercy  than  if  they  had 
been  so  many  dogs.  The  clattering  on  the  helmets,  by  tlie 
axes  and  leaden  maces,  was  so  loud,  that  nothing  else  could  be 
heard  for  the  noise.  I  was  told  that  if  all  the  armourers  of  Paris 
and  Bruxelles  had  been  there  working  at  their  trade,  they  could 
not  have  made  a  greater  noise  than  these  combatants  did  on 
the  helmets  of  their  enemies  ;  for  they  struck  with  all  their  force, 
and  set  to  their  work  with  the  greatest  good-will.  Some,  indeed, 
pressed  too  forward  into  the  crowd,  and  were  surrounded  and 
slain ;  in  particular,  sir  Louis  de  Gousalz,  a  knight  from  Beriy, 
and  Sir  Fleton  de  Reniel.  There  were  several  more,  which  was 
a  great  pity ;  but  in  such  a  battle  as  this,  w^here  such  numbers 
were  engaged,  it  is  not  possible  for  victory  to  be  obtained  with- 
out being  dearly  bought ;  for  young  knights  and  squires,  eager 
to  gain  renown,  willingly  run  into  perils  in  hopes  of  honour. 


148  FROISSART. 

The  crowd  was  now  so  great,  and  so  dangerous  for  those  en- 
closed in  it,  that  the  men-at-arms,  if  not  instantly  assisted,  could 
not  raise  themselves  when  once  down.  By  this  were  several  of 
the  French  killed  and  smothered ;  but  they  were  not  many,  for, 
when  in  danger,  they  helped  each  other.  There  was  a  large 
and  high  mount  of  the  Flemings  who  were  slain;  and  never 
was  there  seen  so  little  blood  spilt  at  so  great  a  battle,  where 
such  numbers  were  killed.  When  those  in  the  rear  saw  the 
front  fail,  and  that  they  were  defeated,  they  were  greatly 
astonished,  and  began  to  throw  away  their  staves  and  armour, 
to  disband  and  fly  towards  Courtray  and  other  places,  not 
having  any  care  but  to  save  themselves  if  possible.  The 
Bretons  and  French  pursued  them  into  ditches,  alder  groves, 
and  heaths,  where  they  fought  with  and  slew  them.  Numbers 
were  killed  in  the  pursuit,  between  the  field  of  battle  and 
Courtray,  whither  they  were  flying  in  their  way  to  Ghent 

This  battle  on  Mont  d'Or  took  place  the  27th  day  of  Novem- 
ber, on  the  Thursday  before  Advent,  in  the  year  of  grace  1382; 
and  at  that  time  the  king  of  France  was  fourteen  years  of  age. 

Thus  were  the  Flemings  defeated  on  Mont  d'Or,  their  pride 
humbled,  and  Philip  von  Artaveld  slain ;  and  with  him  nine 
thousand  men  from  Ghent  and  its  dependencies  (according  to 
the  report  of  the  heralds)  on  the  spot,  not  including  those  killed 
in  the  pursuit,  which  amounted  to  twenty-five  thousand  more. 
This  battle,  from  the  beginning  to  the  defeat,  did  not  last  more 
than  half-an-hour.  The  event  was  very  honourable  to  all 
Christendom,  as  well  as  to  the  nobility  and  gentry;  for  had 
those  low-bred  peasants  succeeded,  there  would  have  been 
unheard  of  cruelties  practised,  to  the  destruction  of  all  gentle- 
men, by  the  common  people,  who  had  everywhere  risen  in 
rebellion.  Now,  let  us  think  of  the  Parisians ;  what  they  will 
say,  when  they  hear  the  news  of  the  defeat  of  the  Flemings 
at  Rosebecque,  and  the  death  of  Philip  von  Artaveld,  their 
leader?  They  will  not  be  much  rejoiced  more  than  several 
other  large  towns. 

When  this  battle  was  completely  finished,  they  allowed  time 
for  the  pursuers  to  collect  together,  and  sounded  the  trumpets 


I'ROISSART. 


149 


of  retreat,  for  each  to  retire  to  his  quarters,  as  was  proper.  The 
vanguard  halted  beyond  the  king's  battaHon,  where  the  Flemings 
were  quartered  on  the  Wednesday,  and  made  themselves  very 
comfortable;  for  there  was  a  sufficiency  of  provision  in  the 
king's  army,  besides  the  purveyances  which  came  from  Ypres. 
They  made,  the  ensuing  night,  brilliant  fires  in  different  places, 
of  the  staves  of  the  Flemings:  whoever  wished  for  any  could 
collect  sufficient  to  load  his  back. 

When  the  king  of  France  arrived  at  his  camp,  where  his 
magnificent  pavilion  of  red  silk  had  been  pitched,  and  when  he 
had  been  disarmed,  his  uncles,  and  many  barons  of  France 
came,  as  was  right,  to  attend  on  him.  Philip  von  Artaveld  then 
came  into  his  mind,  and  he  said  :  "  If  Philip  is  dead  or  alive,  I 
should  like  to  see  him."  They  replied,  "they  would  have  a 
search  made  for  him."  It  was  proclaimed  through  the  army, 
that  whoever  should  discover  the  body  of  Philip  von  Artaveld, 
should  receive  one  hundred  francs.  Upon  this  the  varlets 
examined  the  dead,  who  were  all  stripped,  or  nearly  so,  and 
Philip  through  avarice  was  so  strictly  sought  after,  that  he  was 
found  by  a  varlet  who  had  formerly  served  him  some  time,  and 
who  knew  him  perfectly.  He  was  dragged  before  the  king's 
pavilion.  The  king  looked  at  him  for  some  time,  as  did  the 
other  lords.  He  was  turned  over  and  over,  to  see  if  he  had 
died  of  wounds,  but  they  found  none  that  could  have  caused 
his  death.  He  had  been  squeezed  in  the  crowd,  and,  falling  into 
a  ditch,  numbers  of  Ghent  men  fell  upon  him,  who  died  in  his 
company.  When  they  had  sufficiently  viewed  him,  he  was 
taken  from  thence  and  hanged  on  a  tree.  Such  was  the  end  of 
Philip  von  Artaveld. 

Sir  Daniel  de  Halum,  who,  with  his  knights  and  squires,  had 
held  out  Oudenarde  so  highly  to  his  honour,  knowing  well  that 
the  king  of  France  was  in  Flanders,  and  that  there  would  be  a 
battle  with  the  Flemings,  lighted,  late  at  night  on  the  Wednesday 
preceding  the  battle,  four  torches,  which  he  hoisted  above  the 
walls,  as  a  signal  that  the  siege  would  be  raised.  About  mid- 
night, on  the  Thursday,  news  was  brought  to  the  lord  of 
Harzelles  and  the  others,  that  their  army  had  been  completely 


i^ 


150  FROISSART. 

routed,  and  Philip  von  Artaveld  slain.  Upon  this  they  instantly 
broke  up  the  siege,  and  marched  away  for  Ghent,  leaving 
behind  them  the  greater  part  of  their  stores,  each  running  as 
fast  as  he  could  to  Ghent.  The  garrison  of  Oudenarde  was 
ignorant  of  this  retreat,  and  remained  so  until  the  morrow 
morning.  On  being  informed  of  it,  they  sallied  out,  and  carried 
into  Oudenarde  great  pillage  of  knives,  carriages,  and  stores, 
which  they  found  hid. 

On  Thursday  evening,  intelligence  arrived  at  Bruges  of  the 
defeat  of  the  army,  and  of  everything  being  lost.  They  were 
more  astonished  than  ever,  and  said  among  themselves,  "  Our 
destruction  is  now  come  upon  us  :  if  the  Bretons  should  advance 
hither  and  enter  our  town,  we  shall  be  pillaged  and  murdered, 
for  they  will  spare  none."  Upon  this,  the  townspeople  of  both 
sexes  collected  their  jewels  and  most  precious  effects,  and  began 
to  embark  in  vessels,  to  save  themselves  by  sea,  in  Holland 
or  Zealand,  or  wherever  fortune  should  carry  them.  In  this 
manner  were  they  employed  four  days:  and  you  would  not 
have  found  in  all  the  hotels  of  Bruges  one  silver  spoon.  Every- 
thing was  packed  up  for  fear  of  the  Bretons. 

When  Peter  du  Bois,  who  was  confined  to  his  bed  from  the 
wounds  he  had  received  at  Commines,  heard  of  the  defeat  of  the 
army,  and  death  of  Philip  von  Artaveld,  and  how  much  the 
inhabitants  of  Bruges  were  alarmed,  he  did  not  think  himself 
very  safe,  and  therefore  declared  he  would  set  out  from  Bruges 
and  return  to  Ghent ;  for  he  thought  that  Ghent  would  be  much 
frightened:  he  therefore  ordered  a  litter  for  himself,  as  he  could 
not  ride.  You  must  know  that  when  the  news  arrived  at  Ghent 
of  the  great  loss  of  their  men,  the  death  of  Philip  von  Artaveld, 
and  the  destruction  of  their  army,  they  were  so  much  cast  down, 
that  if  the  French  on  the  day  of  the  battle,  or  even  on  the 
Friday  or  Saturday,  had  advanced  to  Ghent  before  Peter  du 
P>ois  arrived  there,  they  would  have  opened  the  gates  to  them, 
without  any  opposition,  and  submitted  to  their  mercy.  But  the 
French  did  not  attend  to  this,  thinking  themselves  perfectly 
masters  since  Philip  was  dead ;  and  that  the  Ghent  men  would, 
of  their  own  accord,  surrender  themselves  to  the  king's  mercy. 


FROISSART.  ijt 

This  measure,  however,  they  did  not  adopt.  On  the  contrary, 
they  alone  carried  on  the  war  with  greater  vigour  and  bitterness 
than  before,  as  you  will  hear  related  in  the  continuance  of  this 
history. 

On  the  Friday  the  king  dislodged  from  Rosebecque,  on 
account  of  the  stench  of  the  dead :  he  was  advised  to  advance 
to  Courtray  to  refresh  himself.  The  halze  and  some  knights 
and  squires  who  well  knew  the  country,  mounting  their  horses, 
entered  the  town  of  Courtray  full  gallop;  for  there  was  not 
any  opposition  made.  The  women,  both  rich  and  poor,  and 
many  men  also,  ran  into  cellars  and  churches  to  save  them- 
selves, so  that  it  was  a  pitiful  sight.  Those  who  first  entered 
Courtray  gained  considerably  by  the  pillage.  The  French  and 
Bretons  next  came  there,  and  lodged  themselves  as  they 
entered.  The  king  of  France  made  his  entry  the  first  day  of 
December. 

A  strict  search  was  now  made  over  the  town  for  the  Flemings 
who  had  hid  themselves,  and  no  man  was  admitted  to  mercy, 
for  the  French  hated  them  as  much  as  they  were  hated  by  the 
townspeople,  on  account  of  a  battle  which  had  formerly  been 
fought  before  Courtray,  when  the  count  Robert  d'Artois  and  all 
the  flower  of  the  French  nobility  were  slain.  The  king  had 
heard  that  there  was  in  a  chapel  of  the  Virgin  in  Courtray  five 
hundred  gilt  spurs,  which  had  belonged  to  the  knights  of  France 
who  had  perished  at  the  battle  of  Courtray  in  the  year  1302, 
and  that  the  inhabitants  every  year  kept  a  grand  solemnity,  by 
way  of  triumph,  for  the  success  of  this  battle.  He  declared  he 
would  make  them  pay  for  it ;  and,  on  his  departure,  would  give 
up  the  town  to  fire  and  flame ;  so  that  they  should  remember, 
in  times  to  come,  that  the  king  of  France  had  been  there. 

Soon  after  the  arrival  of  the  king  and  his  lords  at  Courtray, 
sir  Daniel  de  Haluin,  with  fifty  lances  from  the  garrison  of 
Oudenarde,  came  thither  to  pay  their  respects  to  the  king. 
They  were  very  graciously  received  by  him  and  his  lords ;  and, 
after  staying  there  one  day,  they  returned  to  their  companions 
in  Oudenarde. 


152  FROISSART. 


EXPEDITION  OF  SIR  JOHN  DE  VIENNE,  ADMIRAL  OF  FRANCE, 
TO  SCOTLAND,  TO  CARRY  ON  THE  WAR  AGAINST  THE 
ENGLISH   AT  THE  EXPIRATION   OF   THE  TRUCE. 

At  this  period,  those  men-at-arms  who  had  been  fixed  on  to 
accompany  sir  John  de  Vienne,  admiral  of  France,  to  Scotland, 
arrived  at  Sluys  in  Flanders.  He  was  to  have  under  his  com- 
mand a  thousand  lances,  knights  and  squires,  and,  I  believe, 
they  were  all  there :  for  such  was  the  ardour  of  those  who 
wished  to  advance  themselves,  that  several  went  with  the 
admiral  though  they  had  not  been  summoned. 

The  fleet  was  ready  prepared  at  Sluys,  and  the  stores  in  great 
abundance  and  good.  They  embarked  arms  sufficient  for  twelve 
hundred  men  from  head  to  foot.  These  they  had  brought  from 
the  castle  of  Beaute,  near  Paris,  and  they  were  the  arms  of  the 
Parisians,  which  had  been  ordered  to  be  deposited  there.  With 
the  admiral  were  plenty  of  excellent  men-at-arms,  of  the  flower 
of  knighthood.  It  was  the  intention  of  the  admiral  to  give  these 
arms  to  the  knights  and  squires  of  Scotland,  the  better  to  suc- 
ceed in  their  enterprise ;  for  sir  Geoffry  de  Charny  and  the 
others  had  told  the  king,  on  their  return  home  last  year,  that 
the  Scots  were  very  poorly  armed. 

I  will  now  name  some  of  those  lords  of  France  who  went  into 
Scotland.  First,  sir  John  de  Vienne,  admiral  of  France,  the 
count  de  Grand-pre,  the  lords  de  Verdenay,  de  Sainte  Croix, 
the  lord  de  Montbury,  sir  Geoffry  de  Charny,  sir  William  de 
Vienne,  sir  James  de  Vienne,  lord  d'Espaigny,  sir  Girard  de 
Bourbonne,  the  lord  de  Hetz,  sir  Florimont  de  Quissy,  the  lord 
de  Marnel,  sir  Valeran  de  Rayneval,  the  lord  de  Beausang,  the 
lord  de  Wainbrain,  the  lord  de  Rinolle,  baron  d'Yury,  the  lord 
de  Coucy,  sir  Perceval  d'Ameual,  the  lord  de  Ferrieres,  the  lord 
de  Fontaines,  sir  Bracquct  de  Braquemont,  the  lord  de  Grand- 
court,  the  lord  de  Landon,  a  Breton,  sir  Guy  la  Personnc,  sir 
William  de  Courroux,  sir  John  de  Hangiers,  sir  Bery  de  Vin- 
selin,  cousin  to  the  grand  master  of  Prussia,  and  many  othor 
good  knights  whom  I   cannot  name :  there  were   a  thousaml 


FROISSAI^T.  153 

lances,  knights  and  squires,  without  reckoning  the  cross-bows 
and  sturdy  varlets. 

They  had  favourable  winds  and  a  good  voyage ;  for  the 
weather  was  very  fine,  as  it  usually  is  in  the  month  of  May. 
The  truces  had  expired  between  the  French  and  English,  the 
Ghent  men  and  the  Flemings,  and  in  all  other  parts.  War  was 
sought  for,  as  it  seemed,  in  every  quarter;  and  those  knights 
and  squires  who  went  to  Scotland  gallantly  wished  for  it,  as 
they  said,  with  the  assistance  of  the  Scots  they  would  make  a 
good  campaign,  and  carry  on  a  successful  war  against  England. 
However,  the  English  who  had  received  intelligence  of  this 
expedition,  very  much  suspected  whither  it  was  bound. 

The  French  army  that  was  bound  for  Scotland  had  very 
favourable  winds,  for  it  was  in  the  month  of  May,  when  the 
weather  is  temperate  and  agreeable.  They  coasted  Flanders, 
Holland,  Zealand,  and  Friseland,  and  advanced  until  they 
approached  so  near  Scotland  as  to  see  it;  but  before  they 
arrived  there  an  unfortunate  accident  befell  a  knight  of  France 
and  an  expert  man-at-arms,  named  sir  Aubert  d' Angers.  The 
knight  was  young  and  active,  and  to  show  his  agility  he 
mounted  aloft  by  the  ropes  of  his  ship  completely  armed ;  but, 
his  feet  slipping,  he  fell  into  the  sea,  and  the  weight  of  his 
armour,  which  sunk  him  instantly,  deprived  him  of  any  assist- 
ance, for  the  ship  was  soon  at  a  distance  from  the  place  where 
he  had  fallen.  All  the  barons  were  much  vexed  at  this  misfor- 
tune, but  they  were  forced  to  endure  it,  as  they  could  not  any 
way  remedy  it. 

They  continued  their  voyage  until  they  arrived  at  Edinburgh, 
the  capital  of  Scotland,  where  the  king  chiefly  resides  when  he 
is  in  that  part  of  the  country.  The  earls  of  Douglas  and 
Moray,  from  the  information  they  had  received,  were  waiting 
for  them  in  Edinburgh ;  and  as  soon  as  they  were  come, 
hastened  to  meet  them  at  the  harbour,  and  received  them  most 
amicably,  bidding  them  welcome  to  their  country.  The  Scots 
barons  instantly  recognised  sir  Geoftry  de  Chamy,  for  he  had 
resided  full  two  months  with  them  last  summer  in  Scotland. 
Sir  Geoffry  made  them  acquainted,  as  he  very  well  knew  how, 


154  JPROISSART. 

with  the  admiral  and  the  barons  of  France.  At  that  time  the 
king  was  not  at  Edinburgh,  but  in  the  Highlands  of  Scotland: 
his  sons  received  them  handsomely,  telling  them  the  king  would 
shortly  be  there. 

They  were  satisfied  with  this  information,  and  the  lords  and 
their  men  lodged  themselves  as  well  as  they  could  in  Edin- 
burgh, and  those  who  could  not  lodge  there  were  quartered  in 
the  different  villages  thereabout.  Edinburgh,  notwithstanding 
it  is  the  residence  of  the  king,  and  is  the  Paris  of  Scotland,  is 
not  such  a  town  as  Tournay  or  Valenciennes ;  for  there  are  not 
in  the  whole  town  four  thousand  houses.  Several  of  the  French 
lords  were  therefore  obliged  to  take  up  their  lodgings  in  the 
neighbouring  villages,  and  at  Dunfermline,  Kelson,  Dunbar, 
Dalkeith,  and  in  other  villages. 

News  was  soon  spread  through  Scotland  that  a  large  body  of 
men-at-arms  from  France  were  arrived  in  the  country.  Some 
began  to  murmur  and  say,  "  What  devil  has  brought  them  here  ? 
or  who  has  sent  for  them  ?  Cannot  we  carry  on  our  wars  with 
England  without  their  assistance?  We  shall  never  do  any 
effectual  good  as  long  as  they  are  with  us.  Let  them  be  told  to 
return  again,  for  we  are  sufficiently  numerous  in  Scotland  to 
fight  our  own  quarrels,  and  do  not  want  their  company.  We 
neither  understand  their  language  nor  they  ours,  and  we  cannot 
converse  together.  They  will  very  soon  eat  up  and  destroy  all 
we  have  in  this  country,  and  will  do  us  more  harm,  if  we  allow 
them  to  remain  among  us,  than  the  English  could  in  battle.  If 
the  English  do  burn  our  houses,  what  consequence  is  it  to  us  ? 
we  can  rebuild  them  cheap  enough,  for  we  only  require  three 
days  to  do  so,  provided  we  have  five  or  six  poles  and  boughs  to 
cover  them."  Such  was  the  conversation  of  the  Scots  on  the 
arrival  of  the  French  :  they  did  not  esteem  them,  but  hated 
them  in  their  hearts,  and  abused  them  with  their  tongues  as 
much  as  they  could,  like  rude  and  worthless  people  as  they 
are. 

I  must,  however,  say  that,  considering  all  things,  it  was  not 
right  for  so  many  of  the  nobility  to  have  come  at  this  season  to 
Scotland:  it  would  have  been  better  to  have  sent  twenty  or 


FRO  I SS ART.  155 

thirty  knights  from  France,  than  so  large  a  body  as  five  hundred 
or  a  thousand.  The  reason  is  clear.  In  Scotland  you  will  never 
find  a  man  of  worth :  they  are  like  savages,  who  wish  not  to 
be  acquainted  with  any  one,  and  are  too  envious  of  the  good 
fortune  of  others,  and  suspicious  of  losing  anything  themselves, 
for  their  country  is  very  poor.  When  the  English  make  inroads 
thither,  as  they  have  very  frequently  done,  they  order  their  pro- 
visions, if  they  wish  to  live,  to  follow  close  at  their  backs ;  for 
nothing  is  to  be  had  in  that  country  without  great  difficulty. 
There  is  neither  iron  to  shoe  horses,  nor  leather  to  make 
harness,  saddles,  or  bridles :  all  these  things  come  ready  made 
from  Flanders  by  sea ;  and,  should  these  fail,  there  is  none  to 
be  had  in  the  country. 

When  these  barons  and  knights  of  France,  who  had  been 
used  to  handsome  hotels,  ornamented  apartments,  and  castles 
with  good  soft  beds  to  repose  on,  saw  themselves  in  such 
poverty,  they  began  to  laugh,  and  to  say  before  the  admiral, 
"  What  could  have  brought  us  hither  1  We  have  never  known 
till  now  what  was  meant  by  poverty  and  hard  living.  We  now 
have  found  the  truth  of  what  our  fathers  and  mothers  were  used 
to  tell  us,  when  they  said :  '  Go,  go,  thou  shalt  have  in  thy  time, 
shouldst  thou  live  long  enough,  hard  beds  and  poor  lodgings :' 
all  this  is  now  come  to  pass."  They  said  also  among  them- 
selves, "  Let  us  hasten  the  object  of  our  voyage,  by  advancing 
towards  England:  a  long  stay  in  Scotland  will  be  neither 
honourable  nor  profitable."  The  knights  made  remonstrances 
respecting  all  these  circumstances  to  sir  John  de  Vienne,  who 
appeased  them  as  well  as  he  could,  saying,  "  My  fair  sirs,  it 
becomes  us  to  wait  patiently,  and  to  speak  fair,  since  we  are  got 
into  such  difficulties.  We  have  a  long  way  yet  to  go,  and  we 
cannot  return  through  England.  Take  in  good  humour  what- 
ever you  can  get.  You  cannot  always  be  at  Paris,  Dijon, 
Beaune,  or  Chalons :  it  is  necessary  for  those  who  wish  to  live 
with  honour  in  this  world  to  endure  good  and  evil." 

By  such  words  as  these,  and  others  which  I  do  not  remember, 
did  sir  John  de  Vienne  pacify  his  army  in  Scotland.  He  made 
as  much  acquaintance  as  he  could  wrth  the  Scottish  barons  and 


156  FROISSART. 

knights :  but  he  was  visited  by  so  very '  few  it  is  not  worth 
speaking  of;  for,  as  I  have  said  before,  there  is  not  much 
honour  there,  and  they  are  people  difficult  to  be  acquainted 
with.  The  earls  of  Douglas  and  Moray  were  the  principal 
visitants  to  the  lords  of  France.  These  two  lords  paid  them 
more  attention  than  all  the  rest  of  Scotland.  But  this  was  not 
the  worst,  for  the  French  were  hardly  dealt  with  in  their  pur- 
chases ;  and  whenever  they  wanted  to  buy  horses,  they  were 
asked,  for  what  was  worth  only  ten  florins,  sixty  and  a  hundred : 
with  difficulty  could  they  be  found  at  that  price.  When  the 
horse  had  been  bought  there  was  no  furniture  nor  any  housings 
to  be  met  with,  unless  the  respective  articles  had  been  brought 
with  them  from  Flanders.  In  this  situation  were  the  French : 
besides,  whenever  their  servants  went  out  to  forage,  they  were 
indeed  permitted  to  load  their  horses  with  as  much  as  they 
could  pack  up  and  carry,  but  they  were  waylaid  on  their  return, 
and  villainously  beaten,  robbed,  and  sometimes  slain,  insomuch 
that  no  varlet  dared  go  out  foraging  for  fear  of  death.  In  one 
month  the  French  lost  upwards  of  a  hundred  varlets  :  for  when 
three  or  four  went  out  foraging  not  one  returned,  in  such  a 
hideous  manner  were  they  treated. 

With  all  this  the  king  required  many  entreaties  before  he 
would  come  forward:  the  knights  and  squires  of  Scotland  were 
the  cause  of  this,  for  they  declared  they  would  not  at  this 
season  wage  war  with  England,  that  the  French  might  pay 
more  dearly  for  their  coming.  Before  the  king  would  come  to 
Edinburgh,  it  was  necessary  to  pay  him  a  large  sum  of  money 
for  himself  and  his  courtiers.  Sir  John  de  Vienne  engaged, 
under  his  seal,  that  he  would  never  quit  Scotland  until  the  king 
and  his  people  were  perfectly  satisfied :  for,  had  he  not  done  so, 
he  would  not  have  had  any  assistance  from  the  Scots.  He  was 
obliged  to  make  this  bargain  or  a  worse;  but  however  advan- 
tageous it  was  for  them,  and  whatever  affection  he  gained  by  it, 
they  made  the  war  solely  profitable  for  themselves,  as  I  shall 
relate  in  this  history. 

You  have  before  heard  how  the  admiral  of  France,  with  a 
large  body  of  men-at-arms,  had  landed  at  the  port  of  Edinburgh, 


FROISSART.  157 

and  that  they  found  it  a  very  different  country  from  what  they 
had  expected  from  the  accounts  of  the  barons  of  Scotland. 
The  king's  council  and  other  barons  had  told  those  knights 
who  had  been  in  Scotland  last  year,  particularly  sir  Geoffry  de 
Chamy  and  sir  Amyard  de  Marse,  that  if  the  seneschal,  the 
constable,  or  the  admiral  of  France  would  cross  the  sea  to 
Scotland  with  a  thousand  good  lances  and  five  hundred  cross- 
bows, with  armour  for  a  thousand  Scotsmen  and  proper  equip- 
ments for  the  leaders,  with  their  assistance  the  rest  of  Scotland 
would  make  such  a  fatal  irruption  into  England,  it  would  never 
recover  the  blow.  With  this  expectation  had  the  French 
crossed  the  sea,  but  had  not  found  these  promises  realised.  In 
the  first  place,  they  met  with  savage  people,  bad  friends,  and 
a  poor  country ;  and  the  knights  and  squires  knew  not  where  to 
send  their  varlets  to  forage,  for  they  dared  not  do  so  except  in 
very  large  parties  for  fear  of  the  wicked  people  of  the  country, 
who  lay  in  wait  for  them,  attacked  and  killed  them. 

At  last,  king  Robert  of  Scotland  arrived,  with  red  bleared 
eyes,  of  the  colour  of  sandalwood,  which  clearly  showed  he  was 
no  valiant  man,  but  one  who  would  rather  remain  at  home  than 
march  to  the  field;  he  had,  however,  nine  sons  who  loved  arms. 
On  the  king's  arrival  at  Edinburgh,  the  barons  of  France  waited 
on  him  to  pay  him  their  respects,  as  they  well  knew  how  to  do ; 
the  earls  of  Douglas,  Moray,  Mar,  Sutherland,  and  several  more, 
were  at  this  interview.  The  admiral  requested  the  king  to  fulfil 
the  terms  on  which  they  had  come  to  Scotland;  for  that  on  his 
part  he  was  resolved  to  enter  England.  Those  barons  of 
Scotland  who  were  eager  to  advance  themselves  were  much 
rejoiced  at  hearing  this,  and  replied  that  if  it  pleased  God, 
they  would  make  such  an  inroad  as  should  be  both  profitable 
and  honourable. 

The  king  issued  his  summons  for  a  very  large  armament :  on 
the  day  fixed  for  their  assembling  at  Edinburgh,  there  were  thirty 
thousand  men  on  horseback,  who  as  they  arrived  took  up  their 
quarters  after  the  manner  of  the  country,  but  they  had  not 
everything  comfortable.  Sir  John  de  Vienne  was  very  impatient 
to  make  an  excursion  and  to  afford  his  men  opportunities  of 


158  FROISSART. 

performing  gallant  deeds  of  arms  in  England :  he  no  sooner  saw 
the  arrival  of  the  Scottish  men-at-arms  than  he  said  it  was  time 
to  march,  for  they  had  remained  idle  too  long.  The  departure 
was  then  proclaimed,  and  they  took  their  march  towards 
Roxburgh.  The  king  was  not  with  the  army,  but  remained  at 
Edinburgh:  however,  all  his  children  accompanied  it.  The 
thousand  complete  sets  of  armour  brought  from  France  were 
delivered  to  the  Scottish  knights  who  were  badly  armed,  and 
those  who  had  them  were  much  delighted.  They  began  their 
march  towards  Northumberland,  which  they  continued  until 
they  came  to  the  Abbey  of  Melrose,  where  they  quartered  them- 
selves on  each  side  the  river  Tweed;  on  the  morrow  they 
advanced  to  Lambir  Law,  and  then  came  before  Roxburgh. 

The  governor  of  the  castle  of  Roxburgh  for  the  lord 
Mountague,  to  whom  it  belonged  as  well  as  all  the  circumjacent 
lands,  was  a  knight  called  sir  Edward  Clifford.  The  admiral  of 
France,  with  his  whole  army,  as  well  as  the  Scots,  halted  before 
it,  and,  having  reconnoitred  it,  thought  they  should  gain  nothing 
by  the  attack,  as  the  castle  was  large,  fair,  and  well  provided 
with  artillery.  They  therefore  continued  their  march  down  the 
river,  towards  Berwick  and  the  sea,  until  they  came  to  two 
square  towers,  tolerably  strong;  in  which  were  two  knights, 
father  and  son,  of  the  name  of  Strande.  A  good  farm  of  fine 
fields  of  grass,  with  a  country-house,  was  hard  by,  which  was 
instantly  burnt  and  the  towers  attacked.  Several  feats  of  arms 
were  performed,  and  many  of  the  Scots  wounded  by  arrows  and 
stones ;  but  the  towers  were  at  length  taken  by  storm,  and  the 
knights  within  them,  who  had  valiantly  defended  themselves  as 
long  as  they  had  been  able. 

After  the  conquest  of  these  two  towers,  the  Scots  and  French 
came  before  a  very  strong  castle  in  another  part  of  the  country, 
which  is  called  Werley ;  it  belonged  to  sir  John  Mountague.  Sir 
John  Lussebourne  was  the  governor  for  him,  and  had  in  it  his 
wife,  children,  and  all  his  family ;  for  he  had  been  informed  that 
the  Scots  and  French  were  advancing  that  way.  He  had,  in 
consequence,  fully  provided  the  place  with  men-at-arms  and 
artillery,  to  the  utmost  of  his  power,  in  expectation  of  the  attack. 


FROISSART.  159 

The  army  soon  came  and  encamped  before  Werley,  situated  on 
a  handsome  river  which  runs  into  the  Tweed  below  it.  There 
was  one  grand  assault  on  this  castle,  where  the  French  behaved 
much  more  valiantly  than  the  Scots:  for  they  crossed  the 
ditches,  though  with  much  difficulty ;  and,  having  fixed  their 
ladders,  many  gallant  deeds  were  done,  for  the  French  ascended 
to  the  battlements,  and  there  fought  hand  to  hand  and  dagger 
to  dagger  with  the  garrison.  Sir  John  Lussebourne  showed 
himself  a  good  knight  and  powerful  in  arms,  by  engaging  the 
French  knights  as  they  mounted  the  ladders.  At  this  attack 
a  German  knight,  called  sir  Alberis  Gastelain,  was  slain,  which 
was  a  pity ;  many  others  were  killed  and  wounded.  The  enemy, 
however,  were  so  numerous,  and  the  attack  so  often  renewed, 
that  the  castle  was  taken,  and  the  knight,  his  wife,  and  children, 
who  were  within  it.  The  French  who  first  entered  made  up- 
wards of  forty  prisoners :  the  castle  was  then  burnt  and  de- 
stroyed, for  they  saw  they  could  not  keep  nor  guard  it,  being  so 
far  advanced  in  England. 

After  the  capture  of  this  castle,  and  of  sir  John  Lussebourne, 
the  admiral  and  barons  of  France  and  Scotland  marched 
towards  Amith,  the  estate  of  the  lord  Percy,  and  quartered 
themselves  all  around  it.  They  destroyed  several  villages,  and 
marched  as  far  as  Boul,  a  handsome  and  strong  castle  on  the 
sea-coast,  belonging  to  the  earl  of  Northumberland:  they  did 
not  attack  it,  for  they  knew  they  should  lose  their  labour,  but 
continued  their  march  to  half-way  between  Berwick  and 
Newcastle-on-Tyne,  where  they  learnt  that  the  duke  of 
Lancaster,  the  earls  of  Northumberland  and  Nottingham,  the 
lord  Neville,  with  the  barons  of  the  counties  of  Northumberland, 
York,  and  Durham,  were  hastening  with  a  large  force  to  meet 
them.  The  admiral  and  barons  of  France  were  much  delighted 
at  this  intelligence,  for  they  were  desirous  of  an  engagement; 
but  the  Scots  were  of  a  contrar)'  opinion,  and  advised  a  retreat 
towards  Scotland,  on  account  of  their  stores,  and  to  have  their 
own  country  in  their  rear  and  wait  for  the  enemy  on  their  own 
borders.  Sir  John  de  Vienne  wished  not  to  act  in  contradiction 
to  their  wishes,  and  followed  what  they  had  advised;  they  did 


i6o  FROISSART. 

not  therefore  advance  farther  in  Northumberland,  but  made  for 
Berwick,  of  which  place  sir  Thomas  Redman  was  governor,  and 
had  with  him  a  great  number  of  men-at-arms.  The  French 
and  Scots  came  before  it,  but  made  no  attack,  and  continued 
their  road  to  Roxburgh,  on  their  return  to  their  own  country. 

News  was  spread  all  over  England,  how  the  French  and 
Scots  had  entered  Northumberland,  and  were  burning  and 
destroying  it.  You  must,  however,  know  that  before  this,  the 
arrival  of  the  admiral  and  the  French  in  Scotland  was  known. 
All  the  lords  were  therefore  prepared,  and  the  king  had  issued 
his  summons :  as  they  assembled,  they  took  the  road  to  Scotland, 
threatening  much  the  Scots.  The  EngHsh  at  this  time  had 
made  greater  preparations  than  ever  for  their  expedition  to 
Scotland,  as  well  by  land  as  by  sea;  for  they  had  freighted  six 
score  vessels,  laden  with  stores  and  provision,  which  followed 
their  march  along  the  coast.  The  king  took  the  field,  accom- 
panied by  his  uncles,  the  earls  of  Cambridge  and  Buckingham, 
his  brothers  sir  Thomas  and  sir  John  Holland.  There  were 
also  the  earls  of  Salisbury  and  Arundel,  the  young  earl  of 
Pembroke,  the  young  lord  de  Spencer,  the  earl  of  Stafford,  the 
earl  of  Devonshire,  and  so  many  barons  and  knights,  that  they 
amounted  to  full  forty  thousand  lances,  without  counting  those 
of  the  duke  of  Lancaster,  the  earl  of  Northumberland,  the  earl 
of  Nottingham,  the  lord  Lucy,  the  lord  Neville,  and  other 
barons  of  the  marches,  who  were  in  pursuit  of  the  French  and 
Scots,  to  the  number  of  two  thousand  lances  and  fifteen  hundred 
archers.  The  king,  and  the  lords  who  attended  him,  had  full 
fifty  thousand  archers,  without  including  the  varlets.  He 
hastened  so  much  the  march  of  his  army  after  the  duke  of 
Lancaster,  that  he  arrived  in  the  country  about  York ;  for  he 
had  had  intelligence  on  the  road  that  there  was  to  be  an  engage- 
ment between  his  men  and  the  Scots  in  Northumberland; 
and  for  this  reason  he  had  made  as  much  haste  as  possible. 
The  king  lodged  at  St.  John  de  Beverley,  beyond  the 
city  of  York,  in  the  county  of  Durham,  where  news  was 
brought  him  that  the  Scots  had  returned  to  their  own 
country.     The   army  therefore    quartered    themselves    in    the 


FROISSART.  t6i 

county  of  Northumberland.  I  will  relate  an  accident  that 
happened  in  the  English  army,  which  caused  a  mortal  hatred 
between  different  lords. 

The  king  of  England  was  quartered  in  the  country  round 
Beverley,  in  the  diocese  of  York,  with  numbers  of  earls,  barons, 
and  knights  of  his  realm ;  for  every  one  tried  to  be  lodged  as 
near  him  as  possible,  more  especially  his  two  uncles.  Sir 
Thomas  Holland,  earl  of  Kent,  and  sir  John  Holland,  earl  of 
Huntington,  his  brothers,  were  also  there  with  a  handsome 
company  of  men-at-arms. 

With  the  king  was  a  knight  from  Bohemia,  who  had  come  to 
pay  a  visit  to  the  queen  ;  and,  out  of  affection  to  her,  the  king 
and  barons  showed  him  ever}'  attention.  This  knight  was  gay 
and  handsome  in  the  German  style,  and  his  name  was  sir  Meles. 
It  happened  one  afternoon  that  two  squires  attached  to  sir 
John  Holland  quarrelled  in  the  fields  of  a  village  near  Beverley, 
for  the  lodgings  of  sir  Meles,  and  followed  him,  to  his  great 
displeasure,  with  much  abuse.  At  {his  moment  two  archers 
belonging  to  lord  Ralph  Stafford  came  thither,  who  took  up  the 
quarrel  of  sir  Meles  because  he  was  a  stranger :  they  blamed  the 
squires  for  their  language,  and  added ;  "  You  have  used  this 
knight  very  ill  by  thus  quarrelling  with  him,  for  you  know  he  is 
attached  to  the  queen  and  from  her  country :  you  would  have 
done  better  to  have  assisted  him  than  to  act  thus."  "  Indeed  !" 
replied  one  of  the  squires  to  the  archer  who  had  first  spoken, 
"  thou  villainous  knave,  thou  wantest  to  intermeddle :  what  is  it 
to  thee  if  I  laugh  at  his  follies  ? "  "  What  is  it  to  me  !  "  answered 
the  archer;  "it  concerns  me  enough,  for  he  is  the  companion 
of  my  master;  and  I  will  never  remain  quiet  to  see  or  hear  him 
abused."  "  If  I  thought,  knave,"  said  the  squire,  "  thou  wouldst 
aid  him  against  me,  I  would  thrust  my  sword  through  thy  body,'' 
As  he  uttered  these  words,  he  made  an  attempt  to  strike  him : 
the  archer  drew  back,  and  having  his  bow  ready  bent,  with 
a  good  arrow,  let  fly,  and  shot  him  through  the  body  and  heart, 
so  that  he  fell  down  dead.  The  other  squire,  when  he  saw  his 
companion  fall,  ran  away.  Sir  Meles  had  before  returned  to  his 
lodgings,  and  the  two  archers  returned  to  their  lord,  and  related 

II 


i6«  FROISSART. 

to  him  what  had  happened.  Lord  Ralph,  when  he  had  heard 
the  whole,  said,  "  You  have  behaved  very  ill."  "  By  my  troth," 
replied  the  archer,  "  I  could  not  have  acted  otherwise,  if  I  had 
not  wished  to  have  been  killed  myself,  and  I  had  much  rather 
he  should  die  than  that  I  should."  "  Well,"  said  lord  Ralph, 
"  go  and  get  out  of  sight,  that  thou  mayest  not  be  found :  I  will 
negotiate  thy  pardon  with  sir  John  Holland,  either  through  my 
lord  and  father,  or  by  some  other  means."  The  archer  replied, 
"  he  would  cheerfully  obey  him." 

News  was  carried  to  sir  John  Holland  that  one  of  sir  Ralph 
Stafford's  archers  had  murdered  his  favourite  squire ;  and  that 
it  had  happened  through  the  fault  of  the  foreign  knight,  sir 
Meles.  Sir  John,  on  hearing  it,  was  like  a  madman,  and  said 
he  would  neither  eat  nor  drink  until  he  had  revenged  it.  He 
instantly  mounted  his  horse,  ordering  his  men  to  do  the  same, 
though  it  was  now  very  late,  and,  having  gained  the  fields,  he 
inquired  for  the  lodgings  of  sir  Meles  :  he  was  told  that  he  was 
lodged  at  the  rear-guard  with  the  earl  of  Devonshire  and  the 
earl  of  Stafford,  and  with  their  people.  Sir  John  Holland  took 
that  road,  riding  up  and  down  to  find  sir  Meles.  As  he  was 
thus  riding  along  a  very  narrow  lane,  he  met  the  lord  Ralph 
Stafford;  but,  being  night,  they  could  not  distinguish  each 
other.  He  called  out,  "  Who  comes  here  ?"  He  was  answered, 
"  I  am  Stafford:  "  "  And  I  am  Holland."  Then  sir  John  added, 
"  Stafford,  I  was  inquiring  after  you.  Thy  servants  have 
murdered  my  squire  whom  I  loved  so  much."  On  saying  this, 
he  drew  his  sword  and  struck  lord  Ralph  such  a  blow  as  felled 
him  dead,  which  was  a  great  pity.  Sir  John  continued  his  road, 
but  knew  not  then  that  he  had  killed  him,  though  he  was  well 
aware  he  had  stricken  him  down.  The  servants  of  the  lord 
Ralph  were  exceedingly  wroth,  as  was  natural,  on  seeing  their 
master  dead :  they  began  to  cry  out,  "  Holland,  you  have 
murdered  the  son  of  the  earl  of  Stafford :  heavy  will  this  news 
be  to  the  father  when  he  shall  know  it." 

Some  of  the  attendants  of  sir  John  Holland,  hearing  these 
words,  said  to  their  master,  "  My  lord,  you  have  slain  the  lord 
Ralph  Stafford."     "  Be  it  so,"  replied  sir  John.     "  I  had  rather 


FROISSART.  163 

have  put  him  to  death  than  one  of  less  rank ;  for  by  this  I  have 
the  better  revenged  the  loss  of  my  squire."  Sir  John  hastened 
to  Beverley,  to  take  advantage  of  the  sanctuary  of  St.  John's 
church,  whither  he  went,  and  did  not  quit  the  sanctuary ;  for  he 
well  knew  he  should  have  much  trouble  in  the  army  from  the 
affection  it  bore  lord  Ralph,  and  he  was  uncertain  what  his 
brother  the  king  of  England  would  say  to  it.  To  avoid,  there- 
fore, all  these  perils,  he  shut  himself  up  in  the  sanctuar)'. 

News  was  carried  to  the  earl  of  Stafiford  that  his  son  had 
been  unfortunately  killed.  The  earl  asked  who  had  done  it. 
They  told  him,  "Sir  John  Holland,  the  king's  brother,"  and 
related  why,  and  wherefore.  You  may  suppose  that  the  father, 
having  only  one  beloved  son,  who  was  a  young,  handsome,  and 
accomplished  knight,  was  beyond  measure  enraged.  He  sent 
for  all  his  friends,  to  have  their  advice  how  he  ought  to  act  to 
revenge  this  loss.  The  wisest  and  most  temperate  did  all  they 
could  to  calm  him,  adding,  that  on  the  morrow  the  fact  should 
be  laid  before  the  king,  and  he  should  be  required  to  see  law 
and  justice  put  m  force. 

Thus  passed  the  night.  In  the  morning,  the  lord  Ralph 
Stafford  was  buried  in  the  church  of  a  village  near  the  spot 
where  he  fell :  he  was  attended  by  all  the  barons,  knights,  and 
squires  related  to  him  that  were  in  the  army.  After  the  funeral, 
the  earl  of  Stafford  with  full  sixty  of  his  own  relations,  and 
others  connected  with  his  son,  mounted  their  horses,  and  went 
to  the  king,  who  had  already  received  information  of  this  un- 
fortunate event.  They  found  the  king  attended  by  his  uncles 
and  many  knights.  ^Vhen  the  earl  approached,  he  cast  himself 
on  his  knees,  and  thus  spoke  with  tears  and  anguish  of  heart : 
"  Thou  art  king  of  all  England,  and  hast  solemnly  sworn  to 
maintain  the  realm  in  its  rights,  and  to  do  justice.  Thou  art 
well  acquainted  hov/  thy  brother,  without  the  slightest  reason, 
has  murdered  my  son  and  heir.  I  therefore  come  and  demand 
justice:  otherwise  thou  wilt  not  have  a  worse  enemy  than  me. 
I  must  likewise  inform  thee,  my  son's  death  affects  me  so 
bitterly,  that  if  I  were  not  fearful  of  breaking  up  this  expedition 
by  the  trouble  and  confusion  I  should  make  in  the  army,  and  the 


r64  FROISSART. 

defections  it  would  cause,  by  my  honour,  it  should  be  revenged 
in  so  severe  a  manner  that  it  should  be  talked  of  in  England  a 
hundred  years  to  come.  For  the  present,  however,  and  during 
this  expedition  to  Scotland,  I  shall  not  think  of  it;  for  I  like 
not  the  Scots  be  rejoiced  at  the  misery  of  the  earl  of  Stafford." 
The  king  replied,  "  Be  assured  I  myself  will  do  justice,  and 
punish  the  crime  more  severely  than  the  barons  would  venture 
to  do ;  and  never  for  any  brother  will  I  act  otherwise."  The 
earl  of  Stafford  and  his  relations  answered,  "  Sir,  you  have  well 
spoken,  and  we  thank  you."  Thus  were  the  relations  of  lord 
Ralph  Stafford  appeased.  He  performed  the  expedition  to 
Scotland,  as  I  shall  relate  to  you ;  and,  during  that  whole  time, 
the  earl  of  Stafford  seemed  to  have  forgotten  the  death  of  his 
son,  in  which  conduct,  all  the  barons  thought  he  showed  great 
wisdom. 

The  army  of  the  king  of  England,  which  consisted  of  seven 
thousand  men-at-arms  and  sixty  thousand  archers,  kept  advanc- 
ing: none  had  remained  behind,  for  it  had  been  confidently 
reported  through  England  that  sir  John  de  Vienne  would  give 
them  battle.  Indeed,  such  were  his  intentions,  and  he  had  in  a 
manner  told  this  to  the  barons  of  Scotland,  when  he  said,  "  My 
lords,  make  your  army  as  considerable  as  you  can ;  for,  if  the 
English  come  as  far  as  Scotland,  I  will  offer  them  combat." 
The  Scots  replied,  "  God  assist  us  ! "  but  they  afterwards 
changed  their  mind. 

The  king  and  his  army  advanced  beyond  Durham,  Newcastle- 
on-Tyne,  and  through  Northumberland  to  Berwick,  of  which 
sir  Matthew  Redman  was  governor.  He  received  him  with  all 
due  respect ;  but  the  king  did  not  stay  there  long  :  he  continued 
his  march,  and  the  whole  army  crossed  the  river  Tweed,  which 
comes  from  Roxburgh  and  the  mountains  in  Northumberland, 
and  took  up  his  quarters  in  the  abbey  of  Melrose.  This  mon- 
astery, in  all  the  preceding  wars  of  England  and  Scotland,  had 
been  spared,  but  it  was  now  burnt  and  destroyed  ;  for  it  had 
been  determined  by  the  English  to  ruin  everything  in  Scotland 
before  they  returned  home,  because  the  Scots  had  allied  them- 
selves with  the  French. 


FRO  I SS ART.  165 

The  admiral  of  France,  on  learning  that  the  king  of  England 
and  his  army  had  crossed  the  Tyne  and  Tweed,  and  were  now  at 
Lambir  Law,  said  to  the  Scottish  barons,  "  Why  do  we  remain 
here,  and  not  reconnoitre  our  enemies  to  fight  them?  You  told 
us  before  we  came  into  this  country,  that  if  you  had  a  thousand, 
or  thereabouts,  of  good  men-at-arms  from  France,  you  would 
be  sufficiently  strong  to  combat  the  English.  I  will  warrant 
you  have  now  a  thousand,  if  not  more,  and  five  hundred  cross- 
bows ;  and  I  must  tell  you  that  the  knights  and  squires  who 
have  accompanied  me  are  determined  men-at-arms,  the  flower  of 
knighthood,  who  will  not  fly,  but  abide  the  event,  such  as  God 
may  please  to  order  it."  The  barons  of  Scotland,  who  well 
knew  the  strength  of  the  English  army,  and  had  not  any  desire 
of  meeting  it,  answered,  "  Faith,  my  lord,  we  are  convinced  that 
you  and  your  companions  are  men  of  valour,  and  to  be  depended 
on ;  but  we  understand  that  all  England  is  on  its  march  to 
Scotland,  and  the  English  were  never  in  such  force  as  at 
present.  We  will  conduct  you  to  a  place  from  whence  you  may 
view  and  consider  them :  and  if,  after  this,  you  should  advise  a 
battle,  we  will  not  refuse  it,  for  what  you  have  repeated  as  having 
been  said  by  us  is  true."  "  By  God,  then,"  said  the  admiral,  "  I 
will  have  a  battle." 

Not  long  afterwards,  the  earl  of  Douglas  and  the  other  Scots 
barons  carried  the  admiral  of  France  to  a  high  mountain,  at 
the  bottom  of  which  was  a  pass  through  which  the  English 
would  be  forced  to  march  with  their  baggage.  From  this 
mountain,  where  the  admiral  was  stationed,  with  many  of  the 
French  knights,  they  clearly  saw  the  English  army,  and  esti- 
mated it,  as  nearly  as  they  could,  at  six  thousand  men-at-arms, 
sixty  thousand  archers  and  stout  varlets.  They  allowed  they 
were  not  in  sufficient  force  to  meet  them  in  battle,  for  the  Scots 
were  not  more  than  one  thousand  lances,  with  about  thirty 
thousand  others  badly  armed.  The  admiral  said  to  the  earls  of 
Douglas  and  Moray,  "  You  were  in  the  right  in  not  wishing  to 
fight  the  English ;  but  let  us  consider  what  must  be  done,  for 
they  are  numerous  enough  to  overrun  your  whole  countr>'  and 
ruin  it.        Since  we  are  not  able  to  combat  them,  I   request 


1 66  FROISSART. 

you  will  lead  us  by  unfrequented  roads  into  England,  and  let 
us  carry  the  war  into  their  own  country,  as  they  have  done  here, 
if  such  an  enterprise  may  be  practicable."  The  barons  told 
him  it  was  very  practicable. 

Sir  John  de  Vienne  and  the  Scots  barons  resolved  in  council, 
to  quit  that  part  of  the  country  and  suffer  the  English  to  act  as 
they  pleased   in    it,  and  to  make  an  inroad  on  Cumberland, 
near  Carlisle,  where  they  should  find  a  plentiful  country,  and 
amply  revenge  themselves.    This  resolution  was  adopted.    They 
marched  their  men  in  an  opposite  direction  to  the  English, 
through  forest  and  over  mountains,  and  laid  waste  the  whole 
country  on  their  line,  burning  towns,  villages,  and  houses.    The 
inhabitants  of  Scotland  carried  their  provisions  to  their  retreats        '{ 
in  the  forests,  where  they  knew  the  English  would  never  seek        i 
for  them.     The  Scots  barons  marched  hastily  through  their  own        | 
country;  and  the  king,  not  being  well  enough  in  health  to  ac-        j 
company  them,  retired  into  the  highlands,  where  he  remained 
during  the  war,  and  left  his  subjects  to  act  as  well  as  they  could. 
The   French  and   Scots  passed    the    mountains  which  divide        J 
Cumberland  from  Scotland,  and  entered  England,  when  they        ! 
began  to  burn  the  country  and  villages,  and  to  commit  great        \ 
devastations  on  the  lands  of  Mowbray,  belonging  to  the  earl  of 
Nottingham,  on  those  of  the  earl  of  Stafford,  as  well  as  on  the         , 
lands  of  the  baron  of  Grisop,  and  of  the  lord  Musgrave,  and  then 
continued  their  march  to  Carlisle. 

While  the  admiral  of  France  and  those  with  him,  such  as  the 
count  de  Grand  Prd,  the  lord  de  Sainte  Croix,  sir  Geoffry  de 
Charny,  sir  William  de  Breune,  sir  James  de  Boenne,  the  lords 
de  Peigny,  de  Hees,  de  Marnel,  sir  Valeran  de  Rayneval,  the 
baron  d'lvry,  the  baron  de  Fontaines,  the  lord  de  Croy,  sir 
Braque  de  Bracequemont,  the  lord  de  Lendury,  amounting  to  a 
thousand  lances  at  least,  of  barons  and  knights  of  France,  with 
the  lords  of  Scotland  and  their  army,  were  thus  overrunning  the 
northern  parts  of  England,  burning  and  destroying  the  towns, 
houses,  and  country,  the  king  of  England,  with  his  uncles, 
barons,  and  knights,  had  entered  Scotland,  wasting  the  country 
as  they  advanced.     The  English  had  quartered  themselves  at 


FROISSART.  167 

Edinburgh,  where  the  king  remained  for  five  days.  On  their 
departure,  everything  was  completely  burnt  to  the  ground 
except  the  castle,  which  was  very  strong  and  well  guarded. 

During  the  residence  of  king  Richard  at  Edinburgh,  the 
English  overran  the  whole  country  in  the  neighbourhood,  and 
did  great  mischief;  but  they  found  none  of  the  inhabitants,  for 
they  had  retreated  into  forts  and  thick  forests,  whither  they  had 
driven  all  their  cattle.  In  the  king's  army  there  were  upwards  of 
one  hundred  thousand  men,  and  as  many  horses  :  of  course,  great 
quantities  of  provisions  were  wanted ;  but,  as  they  found  none  in 
Scotland,  many  stores  followed  them  from  England  by  sea  and 
land.  When  the  king  and  his  lords  left  Edinburgh  they  went 
to  Dunfermline,  a  tolerably  handsome  town,  where  is  a  large 
and  fair  abbey  of  black  monks,  in  which  the  kings  of  Scotland 
have  been  accustomed  to  be  buried.  The  king  was  lodged  in 
the  abbey,  but  after  his  departure  the  army  seized  it,  and  burnt 
both  that  and  the  town.  They  marched  towards  Stirling  and 
crossed  the  river  Tay,  which  runs  by  Perth.  They  made  a 
grand  attack  on  the  castle  of  Stirling,  but  did  not  conquer  it, 
and  had  a  number  of  their  men  killed  and  wounded :  they  then 
marched  away,  burning  the  to\vn  and  the  lands  of  the  lord  de 
Versey. 

The  intention  of  the  duke  of  Lancaster  and  of  his  brothers, 
as  well  as  of  several  knights  and  squires,  was  to  lay  waste  all 
Scotland,  and  then  pursue  the  French  and  Scots  (for  they  had 
had  information  of  their  march  to  Carlisle),  and  by  this  means 
enclose  them  between  England  and  Scotland,  so  that  they  should 
have  such  advantage  over  them,  not  one  would  return,  but  all 
should  be  slain,  or  made  prisoners.  In  the  meantime,  their 
army  overran  the  country  at  their  pleasure,  for  none  ventured 
to  oppose  them,  the  kingdom  being  void  of  defence,  as  the  men- 
at-arms  had  all  followed  the  admiral  of  France.  The  English 
burnt  the  town  of  Perth,  which  is  on  the  banks  of  the  Tay,  and 
has  a  good  harbour,  from  whence  vessels  may  sail  to  all  parts 
of  the  world.  They  afterwards  burnt  Dundee,  and  the  English 
spared  neither  monasteries  nor  churches,  but  put  all  to  fire  and 
flame.      The  light  troops  of  the  English,  and  the  vanguard, 


1 68  FROISSART, 

advanced  as  far  as  the  city  of  Bredane,  which  is  situated  on  the 
sea,  at  the  entrance  into  the  highlands,  but  they  did  no  harm  to 
it,  though  the  inhabitants  were  exceedingly  alarmed,  suppos- 
ing they  should  be  attacked,  and  that  the  king  of  England  was 
coming. 

Just  in  the  same  manner  as  the  English  conducted  themselves 
in  Scotland,  did  the  French  and  Scots  in  Cumberland,  and  on 
the  borders  of  England,  where  they  burnt  and  destroyed  large 
tracts  of  country.  They  entered  Westmorland,  passing  through 
the  lands  of  Greystock,  and  of  the  baron  Clifford,  and  burnt  on 
their  march  several  large  villages  where  no  men-at-arms  had 
before  been.  They  met  with  no  opposition,  as  the  country  was 
drained,  for  all  men-at-arms  were  with  the  king  in  his  expedi- 
tion. They  came  at  length  before  Carlisle,  which  is  well  en- 
closed with  walls,  towers,  gates,  and  ditches:  king  Arthur 
formerly  resided  here  more  than  elsewhere,  on  account  of  the 
fine  woods  which  surround  it,  and  for  the  grand  adventures  of 
arms  which  had  happened  near  it. 

There  were  in  the  city  of  Carlisle,  sir  Lewis  Clifford,  brother 
to  sir  William  Neville,  sir  Thomas  Musgrave  and  his  son, 
David  Hollgrave,  the  earl  of  Angus,  and  several  others  from 
that  neighbourhood;  for  Carlisle  is  the  capital  of  that  part  of 
the  country,  and  it  was  fortunate  to  have  such  men  to  defend  it. 
When  the  admiral  of  France  and  his  army  arrived,  he  made  a 
very  severe  attack  with  ordnance,  which  lasted  some  time,  but 
there  were  within  those  capable  of  making  a  good  defence, 
so  that  many  handsome  feats  of  arms  were  performed  before 
Carlisle. 

The  king's  uncles  and  the  other  lords  supposed  the  admiral 
of  France  and  the  Scots  would  continue  their  march,  and  that 
they  would  do  as  much  mischief  as  they  could  on  the  borders 
and  in  Cumberland.  They  therefore  thought  they  could  not  do 
better,  when  their  stores  were  all  arrived,  than  to  follow  their 
line  of  march  until  they  should  overtake  and  fight  them  ;  for, 
as  they  could  not  any  way  escape,  they  must  be  attacked  to  a 
disadvantage.  Of  this  opinion  was  the  duke  of  Lancaster,  his 
brothers,  several  of  the  nobles  of  the  realm,  and  the  greater 


FROISSART.  169 

part  of  the  army.  Their  stores  were  now  all  arrived  by  sea  or 
land,  and  the  king  had,  in  the  presence  of  his  uncles,  ordered  this 
plan  to  be  adopted.  But  in  one  night,  Michael  de  la  Pole,  earl 
of  Suffolk,  who  at  that  time  was  the  heart  and  sole  council  of  the 
king,  and  in  whom  he  placed  his  whole  confidence,  undid  the 
whole  business.  I  know  not  what  his  intentions  were  for  so 
doing;  but  I  heard  afterwards,  he  should  say  to  the  king, 
"  Ah,  ah,  my  lord,  what  are  you  thinking  of?  You  intend  then 
to  follow  the  plan  your  uncles  have  devised.  Know,  that  if  ye 
do  so,  you  will  never  return,  for  the  duke  of  Lancaster  wishes 
for  nothing  more  earnestly  than  your  death,  that  he  may  be 
king.  How  could  he  dare  advise  your  entering  such  a  country 
in  the  winter  ?  I  would  recommend  you  not  to  cross  the 
Cumberland  mountains,  where  are  thirty  passes  so  narrow, 
that  if  once  you  be  enclosed  within  them,  you  will  run  into  the 
greatest  danger  from  the  Scots.  Never  engage  in  such  a 
perilous  expedition,  whatever  they  may  say  to  you  ;  and  if  the 
duke  of  Lancaster  be  so  desirous  to  go  thither,  let  him,  with 
that  division  of  the  army  under  his  command  :  for  never,  with 
my  consent,  shall  you  undertake  it.  You  have  done  enough  for 
one  time:  neither  your  father,  nor  your  grandfather  Edward, 
have  been  so  far  in  Scotland  as  you  have  now  been.  This,  I 
say,  should  satisfy  you.  Take  care  of  your  own  person,  you  are 
young  and  promising;  and  there  ara  those  who  profess  much, 
but  who  little  love  you." 

These  words  made  so  strong  an  impression  on  the  king, 
he  could  never  get  them  out  of  his  head,  as  I  shall  hereafter 
relate.  On  the  morrow  morning,  when  the  lords  of  England 
were  preparing  for  their  march  towards  Carlisle,  in  search  of 
the  French,  and  to  fight  with  them,  as  had  been  resolved  in 
council  the  preceding  night,  the  duke  of  Lancaster  waited  on 
the  king,  ignorant  of  what  had  passed  between  his  nephew  and 
lord  Suff'olk.  When  the  king  saw  him,  being  peevish  and 
choleric  from  the  preceding  conversation,  he  said,  harshly  : 
"  Uncle,  uncle  of  Lancaster,  you  shall  not  yet  succeed  in  your 
plans.  Do  you  think  that,  for  your  fine  speeches,  we  will  madly 
ruin  ourselves?     I  will  no  longer  put  my  faith  in  you  nor  in 


lyo  FROISSART. 

your  councils,  for  I  see  in  them  more  loss  than  profit,  both 
in  regard  to  your  own  honour  and  to  that  of  our  people  :  there- 
fore, if  you  be  desirous  of  undertaking  this  march,  which  you 
have  advised,  do  so,  but  I  will  not,  for  I  shall  return  to  England, 
and  all  those  who  love  me  will  follow  me."  "  And  I  will  follow 
you,"  replied  the  duke  of  Lancaster  :  "for  there  is  not  a  man  in 
your  company  who  loves  you  so  well  as  I  do,  and  my  brothers 
also.  Should  any  other  person,  excepting  yourself,  dare  say  the 
contrary,  or  that  I  wish  otherwise  than  well  to  you  and  to  your 
people,  I  will  throw  him  my  glove."  No  answer  was  made  by 
any  one.  The  king  was  silent  on  the  subject.  He  only  spoke 
to  those  who  served  him,  on  different  matters,  and  then  gave 
orders  for  returning  to  England  by  the  way  they  had  come. 
The  duke  left  the  king  quite  melancholy,  and  went  to  make 
other  preparations ;  for  he  had  concluded  they  were  to  pursue 
the  French  and  Scots  who  had  advanced  beyond  the  borders; 
but,  as  this  was  altered,  they  took  the  direct  road  to  England. 

Thus  did  the  earl  of  Suffolk,  who  governed  the  king,  break  up 
this  expedition.  Some  lords  said  the  king  had  been  badly 
advised  not  to  pursue  the  Scots,  as  they  had  all  their  stores 
with  them,  and  it  was  still  in  their  way  home.  Others,  afraid 
of  the  difficulties,  said  that,  considering  all  things,  as  well  the 
quantity  of  provision  necessary  for  so  large  an  army,  as  the 
hardships  they  would  be  exposed  to  in  the  winter  season,  when 
crossing  the  Cumberland  mountains,  they  might  lose  more  than 
they  could  gain.  Thus  were  affairs  managed.  The  English 
army  returned,  with  the  king  and  barons,  by  the  way  they  had 
entered  Scotland,  but  not  before  they  had  destroyed  the  greater 
part  of  that  country. 

News  was  brought  to  the  admiral  of  France  that  the  English 
were  retreating  homeward.  They  called  a  council  to  determine 
how  to  act,  when  it  was  resolved  that,  as  their  provision  began 
to  fail,  they  would  return  to  Scotland,  for  they  were  now  in  a 
poor  country,  having  ruined  all  around  Carlisle,  and  the  lands 
of  lord  Clifford,  lord  Mowbray,  and  the  bishop  of  Carlisle;  but 
the  city  of  Carlisle  they  could  not  conquer.  The  French  said 
among  themselves,  they  had  burnt  in  the  bishoprics  of  Durham 


FROISSART.  171 

and  Carlisle  more  than  the  value  of  all  the  towns  in  the  kingdom 
of  Scotland.  The  French  and  Scots  marched  back  the  way 
they  had  come.  When  arrived  in  the  lowlands,  they  found  the 
whole  country  ruined  ;  but  the  people  of  the  country  made  li^'ht 
of  it,  saying,  that  with  six  or  eight  stakes  they  would  soon  have 
new  houses,  and  find  cattle  enow  for  provision ;  for  the  Scots 
had  driven  them  for  security  to  the  forests.  You  must,  however, 
know  that  whatever  the  French  wanted  to  buy,  they  were  made 
to  pay  very  dear  for;  and  it  was  fortunate  the  French  and  Scots 
did  not  quarrel  with  each  other  seriously,  as  there  were  frequent 
riots  on  account  of  provision.  The  Scots  said  the  French  had 
done  them  more  mischief  than  the  English  :  and  when  asked, 
"In  what  manner?"  they  replied,  "by  riding  through  their 
corn,  oats,  and  barley,  on  their  march,  which  they  trod  under 
foot,  not  condescending  to  follow  the  roads,  for  which  damages 
they  would  have  a  recompense  before  they  left  Scotland  :  and 
they  should  neither  find  vessel  nor  mariner  who  would  dare  to 
put  to  sea  without  their  permission."  Many  knights  and  squires 
complained  of  the  timber  they  had  cut  down,  and  of  the  waste 
they  had  committed  to  lodge  themselves. 

When  the  admiral,  with  his  barons,  knights,  and  squires,  were 
returned  to  the  neighbourhood  of  Edinburgh,  they  suffered 
much  from  famine,  as  they  could  scarcely  procure  provision 
for  their  money.  They  had  but  little  wine,  beer,  barley,  bread, 
or  oats  :  their  horses,  therefore,  perished  from  hunger,  or  were 
ruined  through  fatigue  ;  and,  when  they  wished  to  dispose  of 
them,  they  could  not  find  a  purchaser  who  would  give  them 
a  groat  either  for  their  horses  or  housings.  These  lords 
remonstrated  with  their  commander  on  the  manner  in  which 
they  were  treated,  a  circumstance  well  known  to  himself.  They 
said,  "they  could  not  longer  endure  such  difficulties,  for  Scotland 
was  not  a  country  to  encamp  in  during  the  winter  ;  and  that,  if 
they  were  to  remain  the  ensuing  summer,  they  should  soon  die 
of  poverty.  If  they  were  to  spread  themselves  over  the  country, 
to  better  their  condition,  they  were  doubtful  if  the  Scots,  who 
had  so  villainously  treated  their  foragers,  would  not  murder 
them  in  their  beds,  when  they  should  be  divided." 


172  FROISSART, 

The  admiral,  having  fully  weighed  what  they  said,  saw  clearly 
they  were  justified  in  thus  remonstrating;  notwithstanding,  he 
had  intentions  of  wintering  there,  and  of  sending  an  account  of 
his  situation  to  the  king  of  France  and  duke  of  Burgundy,  who, 
as  the  admiral  imagined,  would  hasten  to  him  reinforcements  of 
stores,  provision,  and  money,  with  which,  in  the  course  of  the 
summer,  he  would  be  enabled  to  carry  on  an  advantageous  war 
against  the  English.  But  having  considered  how  ill  intentioned 
the  Scots  were,  and  the  danger  his  men  were  in,  as  well  as  him- 
self, he  gave  permission  for  all  those  who  chose  to  depart.  But 
how  to  depart  was  the  difficulty,  for  the  barons  could  not  obtain 
any  vessels  for  themselves  and  men.  The  Scots  were  willing 
that  a  few  poor  knights  who  had  no  great  command  should 
leave  the  country,  that  they  might  the  easier  govern  the  rest. 
They  told  the  barons  of  France  "  that  their  dependants,  when 
they  pleased,  might  depart,  but  that  they  themselves  should  not 
quit  the  country  until  they  had  made  satisfaction  for  the  sums 
that  had  been  expended  for  the  use  of  their  army." 

This  declaration  was  very  disagreeable  to  sir  John  Vienne 
and  the  other  French  barons.  The  earls  of  Douglas  and 
Moray,  who  pretended  to  be  exasperated  at  the  harsh  conduct 
of  their  countrymen,  remonstrated  with  them,  that  they  did  not 
act  becoming  men-at-arms,  nor  as  friends  to  the  kingdom  of 
France,  by  this  behaviour  to  its  knights :  and  that  henceforward 
no  Scots  knight  would  dare  to  set  his  foot  in  France.  These 
two  earls,  who  were  friendly  enough  to  the  French  barons, 
pointed  out  the  probable  effect  their  conduct  would  have  on 
their  vassals;  but  some  replied,  "Do  dissemble  with  them, 
for  you  have  lost  as  much  as  we."  They  therefore  told  the 
admiral  they  could  not  do  anything  for  him  :  and,  if  they  were 
so  anxious  about  quitting  Scotland,  they  must  consent  to  make 
good  their  damages.  The  admiral,  seeing  nothing  better  could 
be  done,  and  unwilling  to  lose  all,  for  he  found  himself  very 
uncomfortable,  surrounded  by  the  sea,  and  the  Scots  of  a  savage 
disposition,  acceded  to  their  proposals,  and  had  proclaimed 
through  the  realm,  that  all  those  whom  his  people  had  injured, 
and  who  could  show  just  cause  for  amends  being  made  them, 


FROJSSAUT,  173 

should  bring  them  their  demands  to  the  admiral  of  France, 
when  they  would  be  fully  paid.  This  proclamation  softened  the 
minds  of  the  people ;  and  the  admiral  took  every  debt  on  him- 
self, declaring  he  would  never  leave  the  country  until  everything 
were  completely  paid  and  satisfied. 

Upon  this  many  knights  and  squires  obtained  a  passage  to 
France,  and  returned  through  Flanders,  or  wherever  they  could 
land,  famished,  and  without  arms  or  horses,  cursing  Scotland, 
and  the  hour  they  had  set  foot  there.  They  said  they  had  never 
suffered  so  much  in  any  expedition,  and  wished  the  king  of 
France  would  make  a  truce  with  the  English  for  two  or  three 
years,  and  then  march  to  Scotland  and  utterly  destroy  it :  for 
never  had  they  seen  such  wicked  people,  nor  such  ignorant 
hypocrites  and  traitors.  The  admiral  wrote  to  the  king  of 
France  and  duke  of  Burgundy,  by  those  who  first  returned, 
a  full  state  of  his  situation,  and  how  the  Scots  had  acted 
towards  him  ;  that  if  they  wished  to  have  him  back,  they  must 
send  him  the  full  amount  he  had  engaged  to  pay  the  Scots,  and 
for  which  he  had  bounden  himself  to  the  knights  and  squires 
of  Scotland ;  for  the  Scots  had  declared  that  they  had  at  this 
time  made  war  for  the  king  of  France  and  not  for  themselves ; 
and  that  the  damages  which  the  French  had  committed  must  be 
satisfied  before  they  would  be  allowed  to  return,  which  he  had 
promised  and  sworn  to  perform  to  the  barons  of  Scotland. 

It  was  incumbent  on  the  king  of  France,  the  duke  of  Burgundy, 
and  their  councils,  to  redeem  the  admiral,  for  they  had  sent  him 
thither.  They  had  the  money  instantly  raised,  and  deposited  in 
the  town  of  Bruges,  so  that  the  whole  demand  of  the  Scots  was 
paid  to  their  satisfaction.  The  admiral  left  Scotland  when  he 
had  thus  amicably  settled  matters,  for  otherwise  he  could  not 
have  done  it ;  and,  taking  leave  of  the  king,  who  was  in  the 
highlands,  and  of  the  earls  of  Douglas  and  Moray,  was  attended 
by  them  to  the  sea-shore.  He  embarked  at  Edinburgh,  and, 
having  a  favourable  wind,  landed  at  Sluys  in  Flanders.  Some 
of  his  knights  and  squires  did  not  follow  the  same  road,  as  they 
were  desirous  of  seeing  other  countries  beside  Scotland,  and 
went  into  different  parts  ;  but  the  greater  number  returned  to 


174  FROISSART. 

France,  and  were  so  poor  they  knew  not  how  to  remount  them- 
selves :  especially  those  from  Burgundy,  Champagne,  Bar,  and 
Lorrain,  who  seized  the  labouring  horses  wherever  they  found 
them  in  the  fields. 

The  young  king  of  France,  and  the  Duke  of  Burgundy, 
feasted  the  admiral  splendidly  on  his  return,  as  was  but  just. 
They  made  many  inquiries  respecting  the  situation  of  the  king 
and  barons  of  Scotland.  He  told  them  "  the  Scots  would 
naturally  incline  to  the  English,  for  they  were  jealous  of 
foreigners ;  and  added,  that  as  God  may  help  him,  he  would 
rather  be  count  of  Savoy  or  of  Artois,  or  some  such  country, 
than  king  of  Scotland :  that  he  had  seen  the  whole  force  of  that 
country  assembled  together,  as  the  Scots  had  assured  him,  but 
there  were  never  more  than  five  hundred  knights  and  squires 
together,  and  about  thirty  thousand  other  men,  who  would  be 
unable  to  withstand  the  English  archers,  or  a  thousand  men- 
at-arms."  The  admiral  was  asked,  "  if  he  had  seen  the  English 
army."  He  replied,  he  had ;  "  for  when  I  saw  the  manner  in 
which  the  Scots  fled  from  the  English,  I  requested  they  would 
lead  me  to  a  place  whence  I  might  see  and  consider  them. 
They  did  so,  and  I  saw  them  pass  through  a  defile,  to  the 
amount  of  sixty  thousand  archers,  and  six  or  seven  thousand 
men-at-arms.  The  Scots  said,  'that  this  was  the  whole 
strength  of  England,  for  none  had  remained  behind.'"  The 
company  paused  a  little,  and  said,  "  Sixty  thousand  archers 
and  six  or  seven  thousand  men-at-arms  is  a  great  force." 
"  They  may  be  as  many  as  that,"  said  the  constable  of  France; 
"but  I  would  rather  combat  the  whole  of  them  in  their  own 
country  than  one-half  on  this  side  the  water,  for  this  was  the 
doctrine  my  master  taught  me  in  my  youth."  "  By  my  faith, 
constable,"  replied  Sir  John  de  Vienne,  "  if  you  had  been  there 
with  a  good  command  of  men-at-arms  and  Genoese,  as  I  pro 
posed,  and  as  it  was  agreed  on  when  I  undertook  this  expe 
dition,  we  would  have  engaged  them  when  in  Scotland,  or 
destroyed  them  from  want  of  provision." 


FROISSART,  17: 


THE  COURT  OF  THE  COUNT  DE  FOIX,  THE  CRUEL  DEATH 
OF  HIS  ONLY  SON,  AND  THE  STRANGE  DREAMS  THAT 
AFFECT  SIR  PETER  DE  BEARN,  BASTARD  BROTHER  TO 
THE   COUNT. 

On  the  morrow  we  set  out,  and  dined  at  Montgerbal,  wlicn 
having  remounted,  and  drank  a  cup  at  Ercie,  we  arrived  by 
sunset  at  Orth^s.  The  knight  dismounted  at  his  own  house : 
and  I  did  the  same  at  the  hotel  of  the  Moon,  kept  by  a  squire 
of  the  count,  called  Ernauton  du  Pin,  who  received  me  with 
much  pleasure  on  account  of  my  being  a  Frenchman.  Sir 
Espaign  du  Lyon,  who  had  accompanied  me,  went  to  the 
castle  to  speak  with  the  count  on  his  affairs :  he  found  him 
in  his  gallery,  for  a  little  before  that  hour  he  had  dined.  It 
was  a  custom  with  the  count,  which  he  had  followed  from  his 
infancy,  to  rise  at  noon  and  sup  at  midnight. 

The  knight  informed  him  of  my  arrival,  and  I  was  instantly 
sent  for;  for  he  is  a  lord  above  all  others  who  delights  to  see 
strangers,  in  order  to  hear  news.  On  my  entering  he  received 
me  handsomely,  and  retained  me  of  his  household,  where  I 
stayed  upwards  of  twelve  weeks  well  entertained,  as  were  my 
horses.  Our  acquaintance  was  strengthened  by  my  having 
brought  with  me  a  book  which  I  had  made  at  the  desire  of 
Winceslaus  of  Bohemia,  duke  of  Luxembourg  and  Brabant.  In 
this  book,  called  le  Meliador,  are  contained  all  the  songs, 
ballads,  roundelays  and  virelays  which  that  gentle  duke  had 
composed,  and  of  them  I  had  made  this  collection.  Every 
night  after  supper  I  read  out  to  him  parts :  during  which  time 
neither  he  nor  any  one  else  spoke,  for  he  was  desirous  I  should 
be  well  heard,  and  took  much  delight  in  it.  When  any  passages 
were  not  perfectly  clear,  he  himself  discussed  them  with  me,  not 
in  his  Gascon  language,  but  in  very  good  French. 

I  shall  relate  to  you  several  things  respecting  him  and  his 
household,  for  I  tarried  there  as  long  as  I  could  gain  any  in- 
formation. Count  Gaston  Phoebus  de  Foix,  of  whom  I  am  now 
speaking,  was  at  that  time  fifty-nine  years  old;  and  I  must  say. 


176  FROISSART, 

that  although  I  have  seen  very  many  knights,  kings,  princes, 
and  others,  I  have  never  seen  any  so  handsome,  either  in  the 
form  of  his  Hmbs  and  shape,  or  in  countenance,  which  was  fair 
and  ruddy,  with  grey  and  amorous  eyes,  that  gave  delight  when- 
ever he  chose  to  express  affection.  He  was  so  perfectly  formed, 
one  could  not  praise  him  too  much.  He  loved  earnestly  the 
things  he  ought  to  love,  and  hated  those  which  it  was  becoming 
him  so  to  hate.  He  was  a  prudent  knight,  full  of  enterprise  and 
wisdom.  He  had  never  any  men  of  abandoned  character  with 
him,  reigned  prudently,  and  was  constant  in  his  devotions. 
There  were  regular  nocturnals  from  the  Psalter,  prayers  from 
the  rituals  to  the  Virgin,  to  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  from  the  burial 
service.  He  had  every  day  distributed  as  alms,  at  his  gate, 
five  florins  in  small  coin,  to  all-comers.  He  was  liberal  and 
courteous  in  his  gifts ;  and  well  knew  how  to  take  when  it  was 
proper,  and  to  give  back  where  he  had  confidence.  He  mightily 
loved  dogs  above  all  other  animals  ;  and  during  the  summer  and 
winter  amused  himself  much  with  hunting.  He  never  liked  any 
foolish  works  nor  ridiculous  extravagancies;  and  would  know 
every  month  the  amount  of  his  expenditure.  He  chose  from  his 
own  subjects  twelve  of  the  most  able  to  receive  and  administer 
his  finances :  two  of  them  had  the  management  for  two  months, 
when  they  were  changed  for  two  others ;  and  from  them  he 
selected  one  as  comptroller,  in  whom  he  placed  his  greatest 
confidence,  and  to  whom  all  the  others  rendered  their  accounts. 
This  comptroller  accounted  by  rolls  or  written  books,  which 
were  laid  before  the  count.  He  had  certain  coffers  in  his 
apartment,  from  whence  he  took  money  to  give  to  different 
knights,  squires,  or  gentlemen,  when  they  came  to  wait  on  him, 
for  none  ever  left  him  without  a  gift ;  and  these  sums  he  con- 
tinually increased,  in  order  to  be  prepared  for  any  event  that 
might  happen.  He  was  easy  of  access  to  all,  and  entered  very 
freely  into  discourse,  though  laconic  in  his  advice  and  in  his 
answers.  He  employed  four  secretaries  to  write  and  copy  his 
letters  ;  and  these  secretaries  were  obliged  to  be  in  readiness 
the  moment  he  came  out  from  his  closet.  He  called  them 
neither  John,  Walter,  nor  William,  but  his  good-for-nothings, 


FROISSART.  177 

to  whom  he  gave  his  letters  after  he  had  read  them,  either  to 
copy,  or  to  do  anything  else  he  might  command. 

In  such  manner  did  the  count  de  Foix  live.  When  he  quitted 
his  chamber  at  midnight  for  supper,  twelve  servants  bore  each 
a  large  lighted  torch  before  him,  which  were  placed  near  his 
table  and  gave  a  brilliant  light  to  the  apartment.  The  hall  was 
full  of  knights  and  squires  ;  and  there  were  plenty  of  tables  laid 
out  for  any  person  who  chose  to  sup.  No  one  spoke  to  him 
at  his  table,  unless  he  first  began  a  conversation.  He  com- 
monly ate  heartily  of  poultry,  but  only  the  wings  and  thighs ; 
for  in  the  daytime  he  neither  ate  nor  drank  much.  He  had 
great  pleasure  in  hearing  minstrels,  as  he  himself  was  a  pro- 
ficient in  the  science,  and  made  his  secretaries  sing  songs, 
ballads,  and  roundelays.  He  remained  at  table  about  two 
hours;  and  was  pleased  when  fanciful  dishes  were  served  up 
to  him,  which  having  seen,  he  immediately  sent  them  to  the 
tables  of  his  knights  and  squires. 

In  short,  everything  considered,  though  I  had  before  been 
in  several  courts  of  kings,  dukes,  princes,  counts,  and  noble 
ladies,  I  was  never  at  one  which  pleased  me  more,  nor  was  I 
ever  more  delighted  with  feats  of  arms,  than  at  this  of  the 
count  de  Foix.  There  were  knights  and  squires  to  be  seen 
in  every  chamber,  hall,  and  court,  going  backwards  and  for- 
wards, and  conversing  on  arms  and  amours.  Ever>'thing 
honourable  was  there  to  be  found.  All  intelligence  from 
distant  countries  was  there  to  be  learnt;  for  the  gallantry-  of 
the  count  had  brought  visitors  from  all  parts  of  the  world.  It 
was  there  I  was  informed  of  the  greater  part  of  those  events 
which  had  happened  in  Spain,  Portugal,  Arragon,  Navarre, 
England,  Scotland,  and  on  the  borders  of  Languedoc;  for  I 
saw,  during  my  residence,  knights  and  squires  arrive  from 
every  nation.  I  therefore  made  inquiries  from  them,  or  from 
the  count  himself,  who  cheerfully  conversed  with  me. 

I  was  very  anxious  to  know,  seeing  the  hotel  of  the  count 
so  spacious  and  so  amply  supplied,  what  was  become  of  his 
son  Gaston,  and  by  what  accident  he  had  died,  for  sir  Espaign 
du  Lyon  would  never  satisfy  my  curiosity.     I  made  so  many 

12 


178  FROISSART. 

inquiries,  that  at  last  an  old  and  intelligent  squire  informed  me. 
He  thus  began  his  tale: — 

"  It  is  well  known  that  the  count  and  countess  de  Foix 
are  not  on  good  terms  with  each  other,  nor  have  they  been 
so  for  a  long  time.  This  dissension  arose  from  the  king  of 
Navarre,  who  is  the  lady's  brother.  The  king  of  Navarre 
had  offered  to  pledge  himself  for  the  lord  d'Albreth,  whom 
the  count  de  Foix  held  in  prison,  in  the  sum  of  fifty  thousand 
francs.  The  count  de  Foix,  knowing  the  king  of  Navarre  to  be 
crafty  and  faithless,  would  not  accepthis  security,  which  piqued 
the  countess,  and  raised  her  indignation  against  her  husband: 
she  said,  '  My  lord,  you  show  but  little  confidence  in  the 
honour  of  my  brother,  the  king  of  Navarre,  when  you  will  not 
trust  him  for  fifty  thousand  francs :  if  you  never  gain  more  from 
the  Armagnacs  and  Labrissiens  than  you  have  done,  you  ought 
to  be  contented  :  you  know  that  you  are  to  assign  over  my 
dower,  which  amounts  to  fifty  thousand  francs,  into  the  hands 
of  my  brother :  therefore  you  cannot  run  any  risk  for  the  repay- 
ment.' *  Lady,  you  say  truly,'  replied  the  count ;  '  but,  if  I 
thought  the  king  of  Navarre  would  stop  the  payment  for  that 
cause,  the  lord  d'Albreth  should  never  leave  Orth^s  until  he 
had  paid  me  the  utmost  farthing.  Since,  however,  you  entreat 
it,  it  shall  be  done,  not  out  of  love  to  you,  but  out  of  affection  to 
my  son.'  Upon  this,  and  from  the  assurance  of  the  king  of 
Navarre,  who  acknowledged  himself  debtor  to  the  count  de 
Foix,  the  lord  d'Albreth  recovered  his  liberty;  he  turned  to  the 
French  interest,  and  married  the  sister  of  the  duke  of  Bourbon. 
He  paid,  at  his  convenience,  to  the  king  of  Navarre  the  sum  of 
fifty  thousand  francs,  according  to  his  obligation ;  but  that  king 
never  repaid  them  to  the  count  de  Foix. 

"  The  count  on  this  said  to  his  wife,  '  Lady,  you  must  go  to 
your  brother  in  Navarre,  and  tell  him  that  I  am  very  ill  satisfied 
with  him  for  withholding  from  me  the  sum  he  has  received  on 
my  account.'  The  lady  replied,  she  would  cheerfully  go  thither, 
and  set  out  from  Orth^s  with  her  attendants.  On  her  arrival  at 
Pampeluna,  her  brother,  the  king  of  Navarre,  received  her  with 
much  joy.     The  lady  punctually  delivered  her  message,  which 


FROISSART.  179 

when  the  king  had  heard,  he  replied,  *  My  fair  sister,  the  money 
is  yours,  as  your  dower  from  the  count  de  Foix ;  and,  since  I 
have  possession  of  it,  it  shall  never  go  out  of  the  kingdom  of 
Navarre.'  'Ah,  my  lord,'  replied  the  lady,  'you  will  by  this 
create  a  great  hatred  between  the  count  de  Foix  and  me ;  and, 
if  you  persist  in  this  resolution,  I  shall  never  dare  return,  for 
my  lord  will  put  me  to  death  for  having  deceived  him.'  '  I 
cannot  say,'  answered  the  king,  who  was  unwilling  to  let  such 
a  sum  go  out  of  his  hands,  '  how  you  should  act,  whether  to 
remain  or  return ;  but  as  I  have  possession  of  the  money,  and 
it  is  my  right  to  keep  it  for  you,  it  shall  never  leave  Navarre.' 

"  The  countess  de  Foix,  not  being  able  to  obtain  any  other 
answer,  remained  in  Navarre,  not  daring  to  return  home.  The 
count  de  Foix,  perceiving  the  malice  of  the  king  of  Navarre, 
began  to  detest  his  wife,  though  she  was  no  way  to  blame,  for 
not  returning  after  she  had  delivered  his  message.  In  truth, 
she  was  afraid;  for  she  knew  her  husband  to  be  cruel  when 
displeased  with  any  one.  Thus  things  remained.  Gaston,  the 
son  of  my  lord,  grew  up  and  became  a  fine  young  gentleman. 
He  was  married  to  the  daughter  of  the  count  d'Armagnac,  sister 
to  the  present  count  and  to  sir  Bernard  d'Armagnac ;  and  by 
this  union  peace  was  ensured  between  Foix  and  Armagnac. 
The  youth  might  be  about  fifteen  or  sixteen  years  old :  he  was 
a  very  handsome  figure,  and  the  exact  resemblance  to  his  father 
in  his  whole  form. 

"  He  took  it  into  his  head  to  make  a  journey  into  Navarre,  to 
visit  his  mother  and  uncle ;  but  it  was  an  unfortunate  journey 
for  him  and  for  this  country.  On  his  arrival  in  Navarre,  he  was 
splendidly  entertained :  and  he  stayed  some  time  with  his  mother. 
On  taking  leave,  he  could  not  prevail  on  her,  notwithstanding 
his  remonstrances  and  entreaties,  to  accompany  him  back ;  for, 
the  lady  having  asked  if  the  count  de  Foix  his  father  had 
ordered  him  to  bring  her  back,  he  replied,  that  when  he  set 
out,  no  such  orders  had  been  given,  which  caused  her  to  fear 
trusting  herself  with  him.  She  therefore  remained,  and  the 
heir  of  Foix  went  to  Pampeluna  to  take  leave  of  his  uncle. 
The  king  entertained  him  well,  and  detained  him  upwards  of 


i8o  FROISSART, 

ten  days:  on  his  departure  he  made  him  handsome  presents, 
and  did  the  same  by  his  attendants.  The  last  gift  the  king 
gave  him  was  the  cause  of  his  death,  and  I  will  tell  you  how 
it  happened.  As  the  youth  was  on  the  point  of  setting  out, 
the  king  took  him  privately  into  his  chamber,  and  gave  him 
a  bag  full  of  powder,  which  was  of  such  pernicious  quality  as 
would  cause  the  death  of  any  one  that  ate  of  it.  '  Gaston,  my 
fair  nephew,'  said  the  king,  '  will  you  do  what  I  am  about  to 
tell  you  ?  You  see  how  unjustly  the  count  de  Foix  hates  your 
mother,  who  being  my  sister,  it  displeases  me  as  much  as  it 
should  you.  If  you  wish  to  reconcile  your  father  to  your 
mother,  you  must  take  a  small  pinch  of  this  powder,  and  when 
you  see  a  proper  opportunity,  strew  it  over  the  meat  destined 
for  your  father's  table;  but  take  care  no  one  sees  you.  The 
instant  he  shall  have  tasted  it,  he  will  be  impatient  for  his  wife, 
your  mother,  to  return  to  him ;  and  they  will  love  each  other 
henceforward  so  strongly  they  will  never  again  be  separated 
You  ought  to  be  anxious  to  see  this  accomplished.  Do  not  tell 
it  to  any  one :  for,  if  you  do,  it  will  lose  its  effect.' .  The  youth, 
who  believed  everything  his  uncle  the  king  of  Navarre  had  told 
him,  replied,  he  would  cheerfully  do  as  he  had  said ;  and  on  this 
he  departed  from  Pampeluna,  on  his  return  to  Orth^s.  His 
father,  the  count  de  Foix,  received  him  with  pleasure,  and  asked 
what  was  the  news  in  Navarre,  and  what  presents  and  jewels 
had  been  given  him  ;  he  replied,  '  Very  handsome  ones,'  and 
showed  them  all,  except  the  bag  which  contained  the  powder. 

"  It  was  customary,  in  the  hotel  de  Foix,  for  Gaston  and  his 
bastard  brother  Evan  to  sleep  in  the  same  chamber:  they 
mutually  loved  each  other  and  were  dressed  alike,  for  they  were 
nearly  of  the  same  size  and  age.  It  fell  out,  that  their  clothes 
were  once  mixed  together ;  and,  the  coat  of  Gaston  being  on 
the  bed,  Evan,  who  was  malicious  enough,  noticing  the  powder 
in  the  bag,  said  to  Gaston,  '  What  is  this  that  you  wear  every 
day  on  your  breast  ?'  Gaston  was  not  pleased  at  the  question, 
and  replied,  'Give  me  back  my  coat,  Evan-  you  have  nothing 
to  do  with  it.'  Evan  flung  him  his  coat,  which  Gaston  put  on, 
but   was  very  pensive  the  whole  day.     Three  days  after,  as  if 


n 


FROISSART.  iSi 

God  was  desirous  of  saving  the  life  of  the  count  de  Foix,  Gaston 
quarrelled  with  Evan  at  tennis,  and  gave  him  a  box  on  the  ear. 
The  boy  was  vexed  at  this,  and  ran  crying  to  the  apartment  of 
the  count,  who  had  just  heard  mass.  The  count,  on  seeing  him 
in  tears,  asked  what  was  the  matter.  *  In  God's  name,  my  lord, 
replied  Evan,  '  Gaston  has  beaten  me,  but  he  deserves  beating 
much  more  than  I  do.'  '  For  what  reason  ? '  said  the  count, 
who  began  to  have  some  suspicions.     '  On  my  faith,'  said  Evan, 

*  ever  since  his  return  from  Navarre,  he  wears  on  his  breast  a 
bag  of  powder:  I  know  not  of  what  use  it  can  be  of,  nor  what 
he  intends  to  do  with  it;  except  that  he  has  once  or  twice  told 
me,  his  mother  would  soon  return  hither,  and  be  more  in  your 
good  graces  than  ever  she  was.'  '  Ho,'  said  the  count, '  hold  thy 
tongue,  and  be  sure  thou  do  not  mention  what  thou  hast  just 
told  me  to  any  man  breathing.'     *  My  lord,'  replied  the  youth, 

*  I  will  obey  you.'  The  count  de  Foix  was  very  thoughtful  on 
this  subject,  and  remained  alone  until  dinner-time,  when  he  rose 
up,  and  seated  himself  as  usual  at  his  table  in  the  hall.  His 
son  Gaston  always  placed  the  dishes  before  him,  and  tasted  the 
meats.  As  soon  as  he  had  served  the  first  dish,  and  done  what 
was  usual,  the  count  cast  his  eyes  on  him,  having  formed  his 
plan,  and  saw  the  strings  of  the  bag  hanging  from  his  pour-point. 
This  sight  made  his  blood  boil,  and  he  said,  'Gaston,  come 
hither :  I  want  to  whisper  you  something.'  The  youth  advanced 
to  the  table,  when  the  count,  opening  his  bosom,  undid  his  pour- 
point,  and  with  his  knife  cut  away  the  bag.  The  young  man 
was  thunderstruck,  and  said  not  a  word,  but  turned  pale  with 
fear,  and  began  to  tremble  exceedingly,  for  he  was  conscious  he 
had  done  wrong.  The  count  opened  the  bag,  took  some  of  the 
powder,  which  he  strewed  over  a  slice  of  bread,  and,  calling  a 
dog  to  him,  gave  it  him  to  eat.  The  instant  the  dog  had  eaten 
a  morsel  his  eyes  rolled  round  in  his  head,  and  he  died.  The 
count  on  this  was  very  wroth,  and  indeed  had  reason:  rising 
from  table,  he  would  have  struck  his  son  with  a  knife ;  but  the 
knights  and  squires  rushed  in  between  them,  saying,  *  For  God's 
sake,  my  lord,  do  not  be  too  hasty,  but  make  further  inquiries 
before  you  do  any  ill  to  your  son.'     The  first  words  the  count 


i82  FROISSART. 

uttered  were  in  Gascon ;  *  Ho,  Gaston,  thou  traitor  I  for  thee, 
and  to  increase  thy  inheritance  which  would  have  come  to  thee, 
have  I  made  war,  and  incurred  the  hatred  of  the  kings  of 
France,  England,  Spain,  Navarre,  and  Arragon,  and  have  borne 
myself  gallantly  against  them,  and  thou  wishest  to  murder  me! 
Thy  disposition  must  be  infamously  bad :  know  therefore  thou 
shalt  die  with  this  blow.'  And  leaping  over  the  table  with  a 
knife  in  his  hand,  he  would  have  slain  him:  but  the  knights  and 
squires  again  interfered,  and  on  their  knees  said  to  him  with 
tears,  *  Ah,  ah  !  my  lord,  for  Heaven's  sake,  do  not  kill  Gaston: 
you  have  no  other  child.  Let  him  be  confined  and  inquire 
further  into  the  business.  Perhaps  he  was  ignorant  what  was 
in  the  bag,  and  may  therefore  be  blameless.'  '  Well,'  replied 
the  count,  'let  him  be  confined  in  the  dungeon,  but  so  safely 
guarded  that  he  may  be  forthcoming.'  The  youth  was  therefore 
confined  in  this  tower.  The  count  had  many  of  those  who 
served  his  son  arrested,  but  not  all ;  for  several  escaped  out  of 
the  country :  in  particular,  the  bishop  of  Lescar,  who  was  much 
suspected,  as  were  several  others.  He  put  to  death  not  less  than 
fifteen,  after  they  had  suffered  the  torture :  and  the  reason  he 
gave  was,  that  it  was  impossible  but  they  must  have  been 
acquainted  with  the  secrets  of  his  son,  and  they  ought  to  have 
informed  him  by  saying,  '  My  lord,  Gaston  wears  constantly  on 
his  breast  a  bag  of  such  and  such  a  form.'  This  they  did  not 
do,  and  suffered  a  terrible  death  for  it ;  which  was  a  pity,  for 
there  were  not  in  all  Gascony  such  handsome  or  well-appointed 
squires.  The  household  of  the  count  de  Foix  was  always 
splendidly  established. 

"This  business  went  to  the  heart  of  the  count,  as  he  plainly 
showed ;  for  he  assembled  at  Orthes  all  the  nobles  and  prelates 
of  Foix  and  Beam,  and  others  the  principal  persons  of  the 
country.  When  they  were  met,  he  informed  them  of  the  cause 
of  his  calling  them  together,  and  told  them  how  culpable  he  had 
found  Gaston  ;  insomuch  that  it  was  his  intention  he  should  be 
put  to  death,  as  he  thought  him  deserving  of  it.  They  unani- 
mously replied  to  this  speech,  '  My  lord,  saving  your  grace's 
favour,  we  will  not  that  Gaston  be  put  to  death :  he  is  your  heir 


FROISSART.  183 

and  you  have  none  other.'  When  the  count  thus  heard  his 
subjects  declare  their  sentiments  in  favour  of  his  son,  he 
hesitated,  and  thought  he  might  sufficiently  chastise  him  by 
two  or  three  months'  confinement,  when  he  would  send  him  on 
his  travels  for  a  few  years  until  his  ill-conduct  should  be  for- 
gotten, and  he  feel  grateful  for  the  lenity  of  his  punishment. 
He  therefore  dissolved  the  meeting;  but  those  of  Foix  would 
not  quit  Orthcs  until  the  count  had  assured  them  Gaston  should 
not  be  put  to  death,  so  great  was  their  affection  to  him.  He 
complied  with  their  request,  but  said  he  would  keep  him  some 
time  in  prison.  On  this  promise,  those  who  had  been  assembled 
departed,  and  Gaston  remained  a  prisoner  in  Orthcs.  News  of 
this  was  spread  far  and  near,  and  reached  pope  Gregory  XL, 
who  resided  at  Avignon:  he  sent  instantly  the  cardinal  of 
Amiens,  as  his  legate,  to  Beam, to  accommodate  this  affair;  but 
he  had  scarcely  travelled  as  far  as  Beziers,  when  he  heard  he 
had  no  need  to  continue  his  journey,  for  that  Gaston  the  son  of 
the  count  de  Foix  was  dead.  I  will  tell  you  the  cause  of  his 
death,  since  I  have  said  so  much  on  the  subject.  The  count  de 
Foix  had  caused  him  to  be  confined  in  a  room  of  the  dungeon 
where  was  little  light  :  there  he  remained  for  ten  days.  He 
scarcely  ate  or  drank  anything  of  the  food  which  was  regularly 
brought  to  him,  but  threw  it  aside.  It  is  said,  that  after  his  death, 
all  the  meat  was  found  untouched,  so  that  it  is  marvellous  how 
he  could  have  lived  so  long.  The  count  would  not  permit  any 
one  to  remain  in  the  chamber  to  advise  or  comfort  him :  he 
therefore  never  put  off  the  clothes  he  had  on  when  he  entered 
his  prison.  This  made  him  melancholy  and  vexed  him,  for  he 
did  not  expect  so  much  harshness :  he  therefore  cursed  the  hour 
he  was  born,  and  lamented  that  he  should  come  to  such  an  end. 
On  the  day  of  his  death,  those  who  brought  him  food  said, 
*  Gaston,  here  is  meat  for  you.'  He  paid  not  any  attention  to  it, 
but  said,  '  Put  it  down.'  The  person  who  served  him,  looking 
about,  saw  all  the  meat  untouched  that  he  had  brought  thither 
the  last  days :  then,  shutting  the  door,  he  went  to  the  count  and 
said,  '  My  lord,  for  God's  sake,  look  to  your  son :  he  is  starving 
himself  in  his  prison.     I  do  not  believe  he  has  eaten  anything 


i84  FROiSSART. 

since  his  confinement:  for  I  see  all  that  I  have  carried  to  him 
lying  on  one  side  untouched.'  On  hearing  this,  the  count  was 
enraged,  and,  without  saying  a  word,  left  his  apartment  and 
went  to  the  prison  of  his  son.  In  an  evil  hour,  he  had  in  his 
hand  a  knife,  with  which  he  had  been  paring  and  cleaning  his 
nails,  he  held  it  by  the  blade  so  closely  that  scarcely  the  thick- 
ness of  a  groat  appeared  of  the  point,  when,  pushing  aside  the 
tapestry  that  covered  the  entrance  of  the  prison,  through  ill 
luck,  he  hit  his  son  on  a  vein  of  his  throat,  as  he  uttered,  '  Ha, 
traitor,  why  dost  not  thou  eat  ? '  and  instantly  left  the  room, 
without  saying  or  doing  anything  more.  The  youth  was  much 
frightened  at  his  father's  arrival,  and  withal  exceedingly  weak 
from  fasting.  The  point  of  the  knife,  small  as  it  was,  cut  a  vein, 
which  as  soon  as  he  felt  he  turned  himself  on  one  side  and  died. 
The  count  had  barely  got  back  again  to  his  apartment  when  the 
attendants  of  his  son  came  and  said,  *  My  lord,  Gaston  is  dead.' 
'  Dead  ! '  cried  the  count.  '  Yes,  God  help  me  !  indeed  he  is, 
my  lord.'  The  count  would  not  believe  it,  and  sent  one  of  his 
knights  to  see.  The  knight,  on  his  return,  confirmed  the  news. 
The  count  was  now  bitterly  affected,  and  cried  out,  '  Ha,  ha, 
Gaston  !  what  a  sorry  business  has  this  turned  out  for  thee  and 
me !  In  an  evil  hour  didst  thou  go  to  visit  thy  mother  in 
Navarre.  Never  shall  I  again  enjoy  the  happiness  I  had 
formerly.'  He  then  ordered  his  barber  to  be  sent  for,  and  was 
shaven  quite  bare :  he  clothed  himself,  as  well  as  his  whole 
household,  in  black.  The  body  of  the  youth  was  borne,  with 
tears  and  lamentations,  to  the  church  of  the  Augustin  friars  at 
Orthes,  where  it  was  buried.  Thus  have  I  related  to  you  the 
death  of  Gaston  de  Foix :  his  father  killed  him  indeed,  but  the 
king  of  Navarre  was  the  cause  of  this  sad  event." 

My  heart  was  much  affected  at  this  recital  of  the  squire  of 
Beam  relative  to  the  death  of  Gaston;  and  I  was  truly  sorry  for 
the  count  his  father,  whom  I  found  a  magnificent,  generous, 
and  courteous  lord,  and  also  for  the  country  that  was  dis- 
contented for  want  of  an  heir.  I  then  took  leave  of  the  squire, 
after  having  thanked  him  for  the  pleasure  his  narration  had 
given   me.     I   saw  him   frequently  afterwards  in   the  hotel   de 


FROISSART.  185 

Foix,  when  \vc  had  always  some  conversation.  I  once  abked  him 
about  sir  Peter  de  Beam,  bastard-brother  to  the  count,  who 
seemed  to  me  a  knij^ht  of  great  valour,  and  if  he  were  rich  or 
married.  "  Married,  indeed  he  is,"  replied  he,  "but  neither  his 
wife  nor  children  live  with  him."  "  For  what  reason  ?"  said  I. 
"  I  will  tell  you,"  replied  the  squire. 

"  Sir  Peter  de  Beam  has  a  custom,  when  asleep  in  the  night- 
time, to  rise,  arm  himself,  draw  his  sword,  and  to  begin  fighting 
as  if  he  were  in  actual  combat.  The  chamberlains  and  valets 
who  sleep  in  his  chamber  to  watch  him,  on  hearing  him  rise,  go 
to  him,  and  inform  him  what  he  is  doing :  of  all  which,  he  tells 
them,  he  is  quite  ignorant,  and  that  they  lie.  Sometimes  they 
leave  neither  arms  nor  sword  in  his  chamber,  when  he  makes 
such  a  noise  and  clatter  as  if  all  the  devils  in  hell  were  there. 
They  therefore  think  it  best  to  replace  the  arms,  and  sometimes 
he  forgets  them,  and  remains  quietly  in  his  bed/'  I  again 
asked,  if  he  had  a  large  fortune  with  his  wife.  "  Yes,  in  God's 
name,  had  he,"  says  the  squire ;  "  but  the  lady  keeps  possession 
of  it,  and  enjoys  the  profits,  except  a  fourth  part,  which  sir  Peter 
has."  "And  where  does  his  lady  reside.?"  "She  lives  with 
her  cousin  the  king  of  Castille :  her  father  was  count  of  Biscay 
and  cousin-german  to  don  Pedro,  who  put  him  to  death.  He 
wanted  also  to  lay  hands  on  this  lady,  to  confine  her.  He 
seized  her  lands,  and  as  long  as  he  lived  she  received  nothing 
from  them.  It  was  told  her,  when,  by  the  death  of  her  father, 
she  became  countess  of  Biscay,  '  Lady,  save  yourself;  for  if 
don  Pedro  lay  hands  on  you,  he  will  put  you  to  death,  or  at 
least  imprison  you,  for  he  is  much  enraged  that  you  should  say 
he  strangled  his  queen,  sister  to  the  duke  of  Bourbon  and  the 
queen  of  France,  in  her  bed ;  and  your  evidence  is  more  readily 
believed  than  any  other,  for  you  were  of  her  bed-chamber.' 
For  this  reason,  the  countess  Florence  de  Biscaye  quitted  the 
country  with  few  attendants,  as  one  naturally  wishes  to  fly  from 
death,  passed  through  Biscay  and  came  hither,  when  she  told 
my  lord  her  history. 

"  The  count,  who  is  kind  and  affectionate  to  all  ladies  and 
damsels,  had  compassion  on  her,  detained  her  at  his  court,  and 


i86  FROISSAJ^T 

placed  her  with  the  lady  de  la  Karasse,  a  great  baroness  of 
this  country,  and  provided  her  with  all  things  suitable  to  her 
rank.  Sir  Peter  de  Beam,  his  brother,  was  at  that  time  a 
young  knight,  and  had  not  then  this  custom  of  fighting  in  his 
sleep,  but  was  much  in  the  good  graces  of  the  count,  who  con- 
cluded a  marriage  for  him  with  this  lady,  and  recovered  her 
lands  from  don  Pedro.  She  has  a  son  and  daughter  by  sir 
Peter,  but  they  are  young,  and  with  her  in  Castille,  for  she 
would  not  leave  them  with  their  father ;  and  she  has  the  right 
of  enjoying  the  greater  part  of  her  own  lands." 

"  Holy  Mary  !  "  said  I  to  the  squire,  "  how  came  the  knight 
to  have  such  fancies,  that  he  cannot  sleep  quietly  in  bed,  but 
must  rise  and  skirmish  about  the  house  !  this  is  very  strange." 
"  By  my  faith,"  answered  the  squire,  "  they  have  frequently 
asked  him,  but  he  knows  nothing  about  it.  The  first  time  it 
happened  was  on  the  night  following  a  day  when  he  had 
hunted  a  wonderfully  large  bear  in  the  woods  of  Beam.  This 
bear  had  killed  four  of  his  dogs  and  wounded  many  more,  so 
that  the  others  were  afraid  of  him ;  upon  which  sir  Peter  drew 
his  sword  of  Bordeaux  steel,  and  advanced  on  the  bear  with 
great  rage,  on  account  of  the  loss  of  his  dogs  :  he  combated 
him  a  long  time  with  much  bodily  danger,  and  with  great 
difficulty  slew  him,  when  he  returned  to  his  castle  of  Langue- 
dudon,  in  Biscay,  and  had  the  bear  carried  with  him.  Every 
one  was  astonished  at  the  enormous  size  of  the  beast,  and  the 
courage  of  the  knight  who  had  attacked  and  slain  it.  When 
the  countess  of  Biscay,  his  wife,  saw  the  bear,  she  instantly 
fainted,  and  was  carried  to  her  chamber,  where  she  continued 
very  disconsolate  all  that  and  the  following  day,  and  would  not 
say  what  ailed  her.  On  the  third  day  she  told  her  husband 
'  she  should  never  recover  her  health  until  she  had  made  a 
pilgrimage  to  St.  James's  shrine  at  Compostella.  Give  mc 
leave,  therefore,  to  go  thither,  and  to  carry  my  son  Peter  and 
my  daughter  Adrienne  with  me  :  I  request  it  of  you.'  Sir  Peter 
too  easily  complied  :  she  had  packed  up  all  her  jewels  and 
plate  unobserved  by  any  one  ;  for  she  had  resolved  never  to 
return  again. 


FROISSART.  187 

"  The  lady  set  out  on  her  pilgrimage,  and  took  that  oppor- 
tunity of  visiting  her  cousins,  the  king  and  queen  of  Castille, 
who  entertained  her  handsomely.  She  is  still  with  them,  and 
will  neither  return  herself  nor  send  her  children.  The  same 
night  he  had  hunted  and  killed  the  bear,  this  custom  of  walking 
in  his  sleep  seized  him.  It  is  rumoured,  the  lady  was  afraid  of 
something  unfortunate  happening,  the  moment  she  saw  the 
bear,  and  this  caused  her  fainting  ;  for  that  her  father  once 
hunted  this  bear,  and  during  the  chase,  a  voice  cried  out, 
though  he  saw  nobody,  '  Thou  huntest  me  :  yet  I  wish  thee  no 
ill ;  but  thou  shalt  die  a  miserable  death.'  The  lady  re- 
membered this  when  she  saw  the  bear,  as  well  as  that  her 
father  had  been  beheaded  by  don  Pedro  without  any  cause; 
and  she  maintains  that  something  unfortunate  will  happen  to 
her  husband;  and  that  what  passes  now  is  nothing  to  what  will 
come  to  pass.  I  have  told  you  the  story  of  sir  Peter  de  Beam," 
said  the  squire,  "  in  compliance  with  your  wishes  :  it  is  a  well- 
known  fact ;  and  what  do  you  think  of  it  ?  " 

I  was  very  pensive  at  the  wonderful  things  I  had  heard,  and 
replied,  "  I  do  believe  everything  you  have  said  :  we  find  in 
ancient  authors  how  gods  and  goddesses  formerly  changed  men 
into  beasts,  according  to  their  pleasure,  and  women  also  into  • 
birds.  This  bear,  therefore,  might  have  been  a  knight  hunting 
in  the  forest  of  Biscay,  when  he,  perchance,  angered  some  god 
or  goddess,  who  changed  him  into  a  bear,  to  do  penance,  as 
Acteon  was  transformed  into  a  stag."'  "Acteon  !  "  cried  the 
squire  :  "  my  good  sir,  do  relate  it,  for  I  shall  be  very  happy  to 
listen  to  you."  "According  to  ancient  authors,  we  read  that 
Acteon  was  a  handsome  and  accomplished  knight,  who  loved 
dogs  and  the  chase  above  all  things.  He  was  once  hunting 
a  stag  of  a  prodigious  size :  the  chase  lasted  the  whole 
day,  when  he  lost  his  men  and  his  hounds  ;  but,  eager  in 
pursuing  the  stag,  he  came  to  a  large  meadow,  surrounded  by 
high  trees,  in  which  was  a  fountain,  where  the  goddess  of 
Chastity  and  her  nymphs  were  bathing  themselves.  The 
knight  came  upon  them  so  suddenly  that  they  were  not  aware 
of  him,  and  he  had  advanced  so  far  he  could  not  retreat.     The 


1 88  FROISSART. 

nymphs,  in  their  fright,  ran  to  cover  their  mistress,  whose 
modesty  was  wounded  at  thus  being  seen  naked.  She  viewed 
the  knight  over  the  heads  of  her  attendants,  and  said,  'Acteon, 
whoever  has  sent  thee  hither  has  no  great  love  for  thee  :  I  will 
not,  that  when  thou  shalt  go  hence,  thou  brag  of  having  seen 
me  naked,  as  well  as  my  nymphs  ;  and  for  the  outrage  thou 
hast  committed,  thou  shalt  perform  a  penance.  I  change  thee, 
therefore,  into  the  form  of  the  stag  thou  hast  this  day  hunted.' 
He  was  instantly  transformed  into  a  stag,  who  naturally  loves 
waters.  Thus  it  may  have  happened  with  regard  to  the  bear 
whose  history  you  have  told  me,  and  the  countess  may  have 
had  some  knowledge  or  some  fears  which  at  the  moment  she 
would  not  discover :  she  therefore  ought  to  be  excused  for  what 
she  has  done."  The  squire  answered,  "  It  may  perchance  be 
so;"  and  thus  ended  our  conversation. 


TROUBLES   IN   ENGLAND   IN   THE  REIGN   OF   RICHARD   II. 

It  was  reported  through  England  that  a  new  tax  was  to  be 
levied  on  every  fire,  and  that  each  was  to  pay  a  noble,  the  rich 
making  up  for  the  deficiencies  of  the  poor.  The  king's  uncles 
knew  this  would  be  difficult  to  bring  about ;  and  they  had 
caused  it  to  be  spread  in  the  principal  towns  how  greatly  the 
inhabitants  would  be  oppressed  by  such  taxes,  and  that,  as 
there  must  remain  great  sums  in  the  treasury,  the  people  ought 
to  insist  on  having  an  account  of  their  expenditure  from  those 
who  had  the  management,  such  as  the  archbishop  of  York,  the 
duke  of  Ireland,  sir  Simon  Burley,  sir  Michael  de  la  Pole,  sir 
Nicholas  Bramber,  sir  Robert  Tresilian,  sir  Peter  Gouloufre, 
sir  John  Salisbury,  sir  John  Beauchamp,  and  the  master  of  the 
wool-staple  ;  and,  if  these  would  render  an  honest  account, 
there  would  be  found  money  enough  for  the  present  demands 
of  the  kingdom.  It  is  a  well-known  maxim  that  no  one  pays 
willingly,  or  takes  money  from  his  purse,  if  he  can  avoid  it. 
These  rumours  were  soon  spread  throughout  England,  and 
especially  in  London,  which  is  the  chief  key  of  the  realm,  so 


FROISSART.  189 

that  the  people  rose  in  rebellion,  to  inquire  into  the  government 
of  the  country,  for  that  there  had  not  for  some  time  been  any- 
thing known  concerning  it. 

The  Londoners  first  addressed  themselves  to  Thomas  of 
Woodstock,  duke  of  Gloucester,  though  he  was  younger  than 
the  duke  of  York ;  for  he  was  much  beloved  for  his  valour, 
prudence,  and  steadiness  in  business.  When  they  were  in  his 
presence,  they  said,  "  My  lord,  the  good  city  of  London  recom- 
mends itself  to  your  care ;  and  its  citizens,  as  well  as  all 
England,  entreat  you  would  take  upon  you  the  government  of 
the  realm,  and  learn  from  those  who  have  possessed  themselves 
of  the  kingdom  how  it  has  been  hitherto  governed;  for  the 
common  people  make  bitter  complaints,  that  taxes  upon  taxes 
are  continually  imposed,  and  that  the  kingdom,  since  the  coro- 
nation of  the  king,  has  been  more  grievously  oppressed  by  these 
and  other  extraordinary  aids,  than  for  fifty  years  preceding  it. 
No  one  knows  how  these  sums  have  been  expended,  nor  what 
is  become  of  them.  You  will  be  pleased  to  inquire  into  this, 
and  provide  a  remedy,  or  things  will  turn  out  ill,  for  the  dis- 
contents of  the  people  are  very  strong."  The  duke  of  Gloucester 
replied,  "  My  good  sirs,  I  have  attentively  listened  to  what  you 
have  said ;  but  I  alone  can  do  nothing.  I  know  you  have  well- 
founded  cause  of  complaint,  as  well  as  the  rest  of  England ;  but 
notwithstanding  I  am  son  to  a  king  of  England,  and  uncle  to 
the  present  king,  if  I  were  to  interfere  by  speaking  to  him,  he 
would  not  attend  to  me ;  for  my  nephew  has  counsellors  near 
his  person  in  whom  he  confides  more  than  in  himself,  and  these 
counsellors  lead  him  as  they  please.  If  you  wish  to  succeed  in 
having  your  grievances  redressed,  you  should  enter  into  a  con- 
federacy with  the  principal  towns,  and  with  some  of  the  nobles 
and  prelates,  and  come  before  the  king,  where  my  brother  and 
myself  will  cheerfully  meet  you,  and  say  to  the  king,  'Most 
dear  lord,  you  have  been  crowned  when  very  young,  and  have 
hitherto  been  very  badly  advised,  nor  have  you  attended  to  the 
aftairs  of  your  kingdom,  from  the  mean  and  weak  counsellors 
you  have  chosen.  This  has  caused  the  mismanagement  of 
aftairs,  as  you  must  have  seen;  and  if  God,  out  of  His  mercy, 


190  FR02SSART, 

had  not  stretched  forth  His  hand,  the  country  must  inevitably 
have  been  ruined.  For  which,  most  redoubted  lord,  we  sup- 
plicate you,  in  the  presence  of  your  uncles,  as  good  subjects 
should  entreat  their  lord,  that  you  attend  to  these  matters,  that 
the  noble  kingdom  and  crown  of  England,  which  has  descended 
to  you  from  the  most  powerful  and  gallant  king  this  country 
ever  possessed,  may  be  supported  in  prosperity  and  honour, 
and  the  common  people,  who  now  complain,  be  maintained  in 
their  just  rights  and  privileges.  This  you  swore  to  perform  on 
the  day  of  your  coronation.  We  also  entreat  that  you  would 
assemble  the  three  estates  of  the  realm,  that  they  may  examine 
into  the  late  manner  of  your  government.  Should  it  have  been 
managed  in  a  manner  becoming  a  person  of  your  rank,  those 
who  have  governed  will  acquire  profit  and  honour,  and  shall 
remain  as  long  as  they  choose,  and  while  it  may  be  your  good 
pleasure,  in  their  offices.  But  if  those  who  may  be  appointed 
to  examine  into  these  matters  find  anything  contrary  to  good 
government,  they  will  provide  a  remedy  by  quietly  dismissing 
from  your  person  those  who  have  so  acted,  and  replacing  them 
by  others  better  qualified ;  but  with  your  consent  first  had,  then 
that  of  your  uncles  and  of  the  prelates  and  barons  of  the  realm, 
who  will  pay  attention  in  the  choice  to  your  honour  and  to  that 
of  your  kingdom." 

"When  you  shall  have  made  this  remonstrance  to  the  king,"' 
said  the  duke  of  Gloucester  to  the  Londoners,  "he  will  give  you 
an  answer.  If  he  should  say,  '  We  will  consider  of  it,'  cut  the 
matter  short,  and  declare  you  will  not  have  any  delay;  and 
press  it  the  more  to  alarm  him,  as  well  as  his  minions.  Say, 
boldly,  that  the  country  will  not  longer  suffer  it;  and  it  is 
wonderful  they  have  borne  it  so  long.  My  brother  and  myself 
will  be  with  the  king,  and  also  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
the  earls  of  Arundel,  Salisbury,  and  Northumberland ;  but  say 
nothing  should  we  not  be  present,  for  we  are  the  principal 
personages  in  England,  and  will  second  you  in  your  remon- 
strance, by  adding  that  what  you  require  is  but  reasonable  and 
just.  When  he  shall  hear  us  thus  speak,  he  will  not  contradict 
us,  unless  he  be  very  ill  advised  indeed,  and  will  appoint  a  day 


FRO  I SS ART.  191 

accordingly.  This  is  the  advice  and  the  remedy  I  offer  you." 
The  Londoners  replied,  "  My  lord,  you  have  loyally  spoken ; 
but  it  will  be  difficult  for  us  to  find  the  king  and  as  many  lords 
as  you  have  named  at  one  time  in  his  presence."  "  Not  at  all," 
said  the  duke ;  "  St.  George's  day  will  be  within  ten  days,  and 
the  king  will  then  be  at  Windsor;  you  maybe  sure  the  duke 
of  Ireland  and  sir  Simon  Burley  will  be  there  also.  There  will 
be  many  others.  My  brother,  myself,  and  the  earl  of  Salisbury 
will  be  there.  Do  you  come,  and  you  will  act  according  to 
circumstances." 

The  Londoners  promised  to  be  at  Windsor  on  St.  George's 
day,  and  left  the  duke  of  Gloucester,  well  pleased  with  their 
reception.  When  that  day  came,  the  king  of  England  held  a 
grand  festi%'al,  as  his  predecessors  had  done  before  him,  and, 
accompanied  by  his  queen  and  court,  went  to  Windsor.  On 
the  morrow,  the  Londoners  came  thither  with  sixty  horse,  and 
those  from  York  and  other  principal  towns  in  like  numbers, 
and  lodged  themselves  in  the  town.  The  king  was  desirous  of 
leaving  the  place  for  another  three  leagues  off  when  he  heard 
of  the  arrival  of  the  commons  of  England,  and  still  more  so 
when  told  they  wanted  to  speak  to  him ;  for  he  dreaded  greatly 
their  remonstrances,  and  would  not  have  heard  them:  but  his 
uncles  and  the  earl  of  Salisbury  said,  "  My  lord,  you  cannot 
depart,  for  they  are  deputed  hither  by  all  your  principal  towns. 
It  is  proper  you  hear  what  they  have  to  say :  you  will  then  give 
them  your  answer,  or  take  time  to  consider  of  it."  He  remained 
therefore,  but  sore  against  his  wall. 

The  commons  were  introduced  to  the  presence,  in  the  lower 
hall,  without  the  new  building,  where  the  palace  stood  in  former 
times.  The  king  was  attended  by  his  two  uncles,  the  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbur)',  the  bishop  of  Winchester,  lord  chancellor, 
the  earl  of  Salisbury,  the  earl  of  Northumberland,  and  several 
others  of  the  nobility.  The  commons  made  their  harangue  to 
the  king,  by  their  spokesman,  a  citizen  of  London  called  Simon 
de  Sudbury,  a  man  of  sense  and  oratory.  He  formed  his  speech 
from  what  the  duke  of  Gloucester  had  said  to  them  ;  and,  as 
you  have  heard  that,  I  need  not  take  more  notice  of  it.     The 


192  FROISSART, 

king,  having  heard  it,  replied,  "  Ye  commons  of  England,  your 
requests  are  great  and  important,  and  cannot  be  immediately 
attended  to ;  for  we  shall  not  long  remain  here,  nor  are  all  our 
council  with  us ;  indeed,  the  greater  part  are  absent.  I  there- 
fore bid  each  of  you  return  quietly  to  your  homes,  and  there 
peaceably  remain,  unless  sent  for,  until  Michaelmas,  when  the 
parliament  shall  be  assembled  at  Westminster.  Come  thither 
and  lay  your  requests  before  us,  which  we  will  submit  to  our 
council.  What  we  approve  shall  be  granted,  and  what  we  think 
improper  refused.  For  think  not  we  are  to  be  ruled  by  our 
people.  That  has  never  been;  and  we  can  perceive  nothing 
but  what  is  right  and  just  in  our  government,  and  in  those  who 
govern  under  us."  Upwards  of  seven  instantly  replied  to  the 
king,  and  said,  "Most  redoubted  lord,  under  your  grace's 
favour,  your  justice  is  weak,  indeed,  in  the  realm,  and  you 
know  not  what  behoveth  you  to  know;  for  you  neither  make 
inquiry,  nor  examine  into  what  is  passing ;  and  those  who  are 
your  advisers  will  never  tell  you,  for  the  great  wealth  they  are 
amassing.  It  is  not  justice,  sir  king,  to  cut  off  heads,  wrists,  or 
feet,  or  any  way  to  punish;  but  justice  consists  in  the  main- 
taining the  subject  in  his  right,  and  in  taking  care  he  live  in 
peace,  without  having  any  cause  of  complaint.  We  must  also 
say  that  you  have  appointed  too  long  a  day  by  referring  us  to 
Michaelmas.  No  time  can  be  better  than  the  present:  we 
therefore  unanimously  declare  that  we  will  have  an  account, 
and  very  shortly  too,  from  those  who  have  governed  your 
kingdom  since  your  coronation,  and  know  what  is  become  of 
the  great  sums  that  have  been  raised  in  England  for  these 
last  nine  years,  and  whither  they  have  passed.  If  those  who 
have  been  your  treasurers  shall  give  a  just  account,  or  nearly 
so,  we  shall  be  much  rejoiced,  and  leave  them  in  their  offices. 
Those  who  shall  not  produce  honest  acquittances  for  their 
expenditure  shall  be  treated  accordingly,  by  the  commis- 
sioners that  are  to  be  nominated  by  you,  and  our  lords  your 
uncles." 

The  king,  on  this,  looked  at  his  uncles  to  see  if  they  would 
say  anything,  when  the  duke  of  Gloucester  said,  "  That  he  saw 


FROISSART,  193 

hothing  but  what  was  just  and  reasonable  in  the  demands  they 
had  made:  what  do  you  say,  fair  brother  of  York?"  "As  God 
may  help  me,  it  is  all  true,"  he  replied,  as  did  the  other  barons 
who  were  present ;  but  the  king  wished  them  to  give  their 
opinions  separately.  "Sir,"  added  the  duke  of  Gloucester,  "it 
is  but  fair  that  you  know  how  your  money  has  been  expended." 
The  king,  perceiving  they  were  all  united,  and  that  his  minions 
dared  not  utter  one  word,  for  they  were  overawed  by  the 
presence  of  the  nobles,  said,  "  Well,  I  consent  to  it :  let  them 
be  sent  away;  for  summer  is  now  approaching,  and  the  time  for 
my  amusement  in  hunting."  Then,  addressing  the  Londoners, 
he  added,  "  Would  you  have  the  matter  instantly  despatched  ?" 
"Yes,  we  entreat  it  of  you,  noble  king:  we  shall  likewise  beg 
of  these  lords  to  take  part,  more  particularly  our  lords  your 
uncles."  The  dukes  replied  they  would  willingly  undertake  it, 
as  well  on  the  part  of  their  lord  and  king,  as  for  the  countr)'. 
The  commons  then  said,  "  We  also  wish  that  the  reverend 
fathers,  the  lord  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and  the  bishops  of 
Lincoln  and  Winchester,  be  parties."  They  said  they  would 
cheerfully  do  so.  When  this  was  agreed  to,  they  nominated 
the  lords  present,  such  as  the  earls  of  Salisbury  and  North- 
umberland, sir  Reginald  Cobham,  sir  Guy  de  Bryan,  sir 
Thomas  Felton,  sir  ALatthew  Gournay,  and  said  there  should 
be  from  two  to  four  of  the  principal  persons  from  each  city  or 
large  town,  who  would  represent  the  commons  of  England.  All 
this  was  assented  to,  and  the  time  for  their  meeting  fixed  for 
the  week  after  St.  George's  day,  to  be  holden  at  Westminster; 
and  all  the  king's  ministers  and  treasurers  were  ordered  to 
attend,  and  give  an  account  of  their  administrations  to  the 
before-named  lords.  The  king  consented  to  the  whole,  not 
through  force,  but  at  the  solicitations  and  prayers  of  his  uncles, 
the  other  lords,  and  commons  of  England.  It,  indeed,  con- 
cerned them  to  know  how  affairs  had  been  managed,  both  in 
former  times  and  in  those  of  the  present  day.  All  having  been 
amicably  settled,  the  assembly  broke  up,  and  the  lords,  on 
leaving  Windsor,  returned  to  London,  whither  were  summoned 
all  collectors  and  receivers,  from  the  different  counties,  with 

13 


194  FROISSART, 

their  receipts  and  acquittances,  under  pain  of  corporal  punish- 
ment and  confiscation  of  goods. 

The  assembly  of  the  commissioners  of  accounts  was  held 
at  Westminster,  consisting  of  the  king's  uncles,  the  prelates, 
barons,  and  deputies  from  the  principal  towns  of  England.  It 
lasted  upwards  of  a  month.  Some  of  those  who  appeared 
before  it,  not  producing  fair  or  honourable  accounts,  were 
punished  corporally,  and  by  confiscation  of  whatever  they 
possessed. 

Sir  Simon  Burley  was  charged  with  defalcations  to  the 
amount  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs,  notwith- 
standing he  had  been  tutor  to  the  king,  and  had  assisted  him 
in  the  government  from  his  earliest  youth.  When  called  upon 
to  account  for  what  had  become  of  it,  he  cast  the  blame  on  the 
archbishop  of  York  and  sir  William  Neville,  saying  he  had 
never  acted  but  with  them  and  by  their  advice,  and  in  con- 
junction with  the  king's  chamberlains,  sir  Robert  Tresilian,  sir 
Robert  Beauchamp,  sir  John  Salisbury,  sir  Nicholas  Bramber, 
and  others;  but  those,  when  examined,  excused  themselves, 
and  flung  the  whole  fault  on  him.  The  duke  of  Ireland  said  to 
sir  Simon  privately,  "  I  understand  you  are  to  be  arrested  and 
sent  to  prison  until  you  shall  pay  the  sum  you  are  charged  with. 
Do  not  dispute  the  matter,  but  go  whither  they  may  order:  I 
will  make  your  peace  with  the  king,  though  they  had  all  sworn 
to  the  contrary.  You  know  the  constable  of  France  owes  me 
forty  thousand  francs  for  the  ransom  of  John  of  Blois,  and  this 
sum  he  shortly  will  pay:  I  will  offer  the  amount  to  the  com- 
missioners, which,  for  the  moment,  will  satisfy  them :  but  the 
king  is  sovereign;  he  will  pardon  you  all,  for  the  balances  must 
be  paid  to  him  and  to  none  other."  "  If  I  did  not  depend," 
replied  sir  Simon  Burley,  "  that  you  would  strongly  support  me 
with  the  king,  and  assist  me  personally  in  this  matter,  I  would 
cross  the  sea  and  go  to  the  king  of  Bohemia.  I  should  be  well 
received  there,  and  remain  for  a  time  until  all  this  bustle  were 
blown  over."  "  I  will  never  forsake  you,"  said  the  duke  of 
Ireland:  "are  we  not  companions,  and  equally  implicated? 
You  must  ask  time  for  repayment.     I  know  well  that  you  can 


FROISSART.  195 

pay  when  you  please,  in  ready  money,  one  hundred  thousand 
francs.  Do  not  fear  death,  for  they  will  never  push  matters 
so  far  as  that;  and  before  Michaelmas,  things  shall  have  a 
different  turn  from  what  these  lords  think:  let  me  only  once 
have  the  king  in  my  power,  and  I  will  have  him,  for  all  that  he 
now  does  he  is  forced  to.  We  must  satisfy  these  cursed 
Londoners,  and  put  an  end  to  all  this  discontent  they  have 
raised  against  us  and  our  friends." 

Sir  Simon  Burley  put  a  little  too  much  confidence  in  these 
words  of  the  duke  of  Ireland,  and  presented  himself  before  the 
commissioners,  when  called  upon.  They  said,  "Sir  Simon, 
you  have  been  a  knight  who  has  done  honour  to  our  countr)', 
and  were  greatly  beloved  by  our  lord  the  late  prince  of  Wales. 
You  and  the  duke  of  Ireland  have  been  the  principal  ministers 
of  the  king.  We  have  carefully  examined  all  your  accounts 
that  have  been  laid  before  us,  and  must  tell  you,  they  are 
neither  fair  nor  honourable,  which  has  displeased  us  for  the 
love  we  bear  you.  We  have  therefore  unanimously  resolved 
that  you  be  sent  to  the  Tower  of  London,  there  to  be  confined 
until  you  shall  have  repaid,  in  this  chamber,  according  to  our 
orders,  the  sum  you  have  received  for  the  king  and  realm,  and 
for  which,  from  the  examination  of  the  treasurer,  you  have  never 
accounted :  the  sum  amounts  to  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
francs.  Now,  have  you  anything  to  say  in  your  defence?" 
Sir  Simon  was  much  disconcerted,  and  said,  "  My  lords,  I 
shall  willingly  obey,  as  it  is  proper  I  should,  your  commands, 
and  go  whither  you  may  please  to  send  me.  But  I  entreat  that 
I  may  have  a  secretary  allowed  me  to  draw  out  an  account  of 
the  great  expenses  I  have  formerly  been  at  in  Germany  and 
Bohemia,  when  negotiating  the  marriage  of  our  king  and  lord. 
If  I  should  have  received  too  much,  grant  me,  through  the 
king's  grace  and  yours,  that  I  may  have  a  reasonable  time  for 
repayment."  "To  this  we  agree,"  replied  the  lords;  and  sir 
Simon  Burley  was  then  conducted  to  the  Tower. 

The  accounts  of  sir  Thomas  Trivet  and  sir  William  Elmham 
were  next  examined.  They  were  not  popular  with  any  of  the 
barons  of  England,  nor  with  the  people,  on  account  of  their 


196  FROISSART. 

conduct  in  Flanders ;  for  it  was  said  no  Englishman  had  ever 
made  so  shameful  an  expedition.  The  bishop  of  Norwich  and 
the  governor  of  Calais,  who  at  that  time  was  sir  Hugh  Calverley, 
had  cleared  themselves  from  any  blame :  but  the  charge  laid  to 
the  two  knights,  of  taking  money  for  the  surrender  of  Bour- 
bourg  and  Gravelines,  prevented  them  doing  the  same:  and 
some  in  England  wanted  to  have  their  conduct  (which  has 
been  be'bre  related)  construed  into  treason;  and  the  knights 
had  given  security  for  their  appearance,  when  called  upon,  to 
the  king,  his  uncles,  and  the  council.  This  charge  was  now 
renewed,  and  they  were  summoned  before  the  commissioners. 
Sir  William  Elmham  appeared;  but  sir  Thomas  Trivet  did  not 
come,  and  I  will  tell  you  the  cause.  The  same  week  the 
summons  from  the  commissioners  was  brought  to  his  house  in 
the  north,  he  had  mounted  a  young  horse,  to  try  him  in  the 
fields.  This  horse  ran  away  with  him  over  hedge  and  through 
bushes,  and  at  length  fell  into  a  ditch  and  broke  the  knight's 
neck.  It  was  a  pity,  and  his  loss  was  much  bewailed  by  the 
good  people  of  England.  Notwithstanding  this,  his  heirs  were 
forced  to  pay  a  large  sum  of  florins  to  what  was  called  the  king's 
council ;  but  the  whole  management  was  well  known  to  rest 
with  the  uncles  of  the  king,  and  the  commissioners  they  had 
nominated.  For,  although  the  duke  of  Gloucester  was  the 
youngest  of  the  king's  uncles,  he  was  the  most  active  in 
business  that  concerned  the  country ;  and  the  better  part  of  the 
prelates,  nobles,  and  commons  looked  up  to  him.  "L 

When  the  composition-money  of  the  late  sir  Thomas  Trivet,  IT 
who  was  killed  as  you  have  heard,  was  paid,  the  blame  cast  on  \ 
sir  William  Elmham  was  much  lightened.     His  former  deeds  i 
in  the  Bordelois,  Guienne,  and  Picardy,  where  he  had  displayed 
much  valour  in  support  of  England,  pleaded  for  him,  having 
behaved  like  a  gallant  knight,  so  that  nothing  could  be  laid 
to   his   charge  *but   having   taken  money   for    Bourbourg   and 
Gravelines.      Ikit  he  excused   himself  by  saying,    "My  lords, 
when  any  one  is  placed  as  we  were,  in  respect  to  these  two 
towns,  it  appears  to  me  (from  what    I   have  heard   sir   John 
Chandos  and  sir  Walter  Manny,  who  had  abundance  of  good 


1 


FROISSART.  197 

sense  and  valour,  say),  that  when  two  or  three  means  offer,  the 
one  most  profitable  to  ourselves,  and  that  which  can  hurt  our 
enemies  the  most,  ought  ever  to  be  adopted.  Sir  Thomas  Trivet 
and  myself,  finding  ourselves  surrounded,  so  that  succour  could 
no  way  come  to  us,  and  that  we  should  not  be  able  long  to 
withstand  their  assaults  (for  they  were  such  knights  and  squires 
as  few  in  England  ever  saw,  and  in  such  numbers,  from  the 
account  of  our  herald,  as  to  amount  to  sixteen  thousand  men-at- 
arms,  and  forty  thousand  others,  while  we  were  scarcely  three 
hundred  lances,  and  as  many  archers ;  our  town  was  also  so 
extensive  we  could  not  attend  to  all  parts  of  it,  which  we  soon 
felt  to  our  cost,  for,  while  we  were  defending  one  side,  it  was 
set  on  fire  on  another) — we  became  very  much  confused,  which 
the  enemy  perceived.  And,  in  truth,  the  king  of  France  and 
his  council  acted  handsomely  by  granting  us  a  truce,  for  if  they 
had  on  the  morrow  renewed  their  attack,  in  the  situation  we 
were  in,  they  must  have  had  us  at  their  mercy.  They  honour- 
ably treated  with  us,  through  the  duke  of  Brittany,  who  took 
much  trouble  on  the  occasion.  We  ought  to  have  paid  for  this, 
but  they  gave  us  money ;  and,  instead  of  being  worsted  by  our 
enemies,  we  despoiled  them.  We  certainly  overreached  them, 
when  they  paid  us,  and  suffered  us  to  depart  safe  and  well, 
carrying  away  whatever  we  had  gained  by  this  expedition  in 
Flanders.  Besides,"  added  sir  William,  "  to  purge  myself  from 
all  blame,  should  there  be  in  England,  or  out  of  England,  any 
knight  or  squire,  except  the  persons  of  my  lord  the  dukes  of 
York  and  of  Gloucester,  who  shall  dare  to  say  that  I  have  acted 
disloyally  towards  my  natural  lord  the  king,  or  have  been  any 
way  guilty  of  treason,  I  am  ready  to  throw  down  my  glove,  and  * 
with  my  body  try  the  event  by  deeds  of  arms,  such  as  the 
judges  may  assign  me." 

This  speech,  and  the  known  valour  of  the  knight,  exculpated 
him,  and  freed  him  from  all  fear  of  death,  which  he  was  in 
danger  of  at  the  beginning.  He  returned  to  his  estate,  and  was 
afterwards  a  renowned  knight,  much  advanced,  and  of  the  king's 
council.  Sir  Simon  Burley  was  still  confined  in  the  Tower,  for 
he  was  mortally  hated  by  the  king's  uncles  and  the  commons  of 


tgS  FROISSART. 

England.  The  king  did  everything  in  his  power  to  deliver  him 
from  prison  during  the  time  he  resided  at  Sheene;  but  the 
commissioners,  being  determined  to  oppress  him,  dissembled, 
and  said  they  could  not  as  yet  set  him  at  liberty,  for  his  accounts 
were  not  closed.  The  king,  accompanied  by  the  duke  of  Ireland, 
journeyed  towards  Wales,  by  way  of  Bristol ;  and  wheresoever 
he  w^ent  he  vv'as  followed  by  the  queen,  and  all  the  ladies  and 
damsels  of  her  court. 

Although  the  king  of  England  had  left  London,  his  uncles 
there  remained  with  their  advisers.  You  have  often  heard 
that  when  any  disorder  is  in  the  head,  all  the  other  members  of 
the  body  are  affected  by  it,  and  that  this  sickness  must  be 
purged  away  by  some  means  or  other.  I  say  this,  because  the 
duke  of  Ireland  was  in  such  favour  with  the  king,  that  he 
managed  him  as  he  pleased,  and  governed  him  at  will.  Sir 
Simon  Burley  was  also  one  of  the  principal  advisers;  and 
between  them  both  they  ruled,  for  a  long  time,  king  and  king- 
dom. They  were  suspected  of  having  amassed  very  large  sums 
of  money,  and  it  was  rumoured  they  had  sent  great  part  of  it 
for  safety  to  Germany.  It  had  also  come  to  the  knowledge  of 
the  king,  his  uncles,  and  the  rulers  of  the  principal  towns  in 
England,  that  great  cases  and  trunks  had  been  secretly  em- 
barked from  Dover  castle  in  the  night-time,  which  were  said  to 
contain  this  money  sent  fraudulently  abroad  by  them  to  foreign 
countries,  in  consequence  of  which  the  kingdom  was  greatly 
impoverished  of  cash.  Many  grieved  much  at  this,  saying,  that 
gold  and  silver  were  become  so  scarce  as  to  occasion  trade  to 
languish.  Such  speeches  increased  the  hatred  to  sir  Simon 
Burley,  and  the  commissioners  declared  they  thought  he 
deserved  death.  In  short,  they,  on  finishing  his  accounts,  con- 
demned him  to  suffer  this  punishment,  instigated  thereto  by  a 
desire  to  please  the  country,  and  by  the  archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, who  related  to  the  lords  that  sir  Simon  wanted  to  remove 
the  shrine  of  St.  Thomas  from  Canterbury  to  Dover  Castle,  as 
he  said,  for  greater  security,  at  the  time  the  French  invasion 
was  expected ;  but  it  was  commonly  believed  that  he  meant  to 
seize  it,  and  carry  it  out  of  England.     Many,  now  he  was  in 


FROISSART.  199 

prison,  came  forward  against  him;  and  the  knight  was  so  over- 
powered, that  nothing  he  could  say  in  his  defence  availed  him ; 
so  that  he  was  carried  forth  out  of  the  Tower,  and  beheaded,  as 
a  traitor,  in  the  scjuare  before  it.  God  have  mercy  on  his  mis- 
deeds. Notwithstanding  I  thus  relate  his  disgraceful  death, 
which  I  am  forced  to  by  my  determination  to  insert  nothing  but 
truth  in  this  history,  I  was  exceedingly  vexed  thereat,  and 
personally  much  grieved  ;  for  in  my  youth  I  had  found  him  a 
gentle  knight,  and  according  to  my  understanding,  of  great 
good  sense.     Such  was  the  unfortunate  end  of  sir  Simon  Burley. 

His  nephew  and  heir,  sir  Richard  Burley,  was  with  the  duke 
of  Lancaster  in  Galicia  when  this  misfortune  befell  his  uncle,  and 
one  of  the  most  renowned  in  his  army,  after  the  constable ;  for  he 
had  once  the  chief  command  of  the  whole  army,  and  instructed 
sir  Thomas  Moreaux  in  his  office  of  marshal;  he  was  likewise 
of  the  duke's  council,  and  his  principal  adviser.  You  may 
suppose  that,  when  he  heard  of  the  disgraceful  death  his 
uncle  had  suffered,  he  was  mightily  enraged;  but,  alas!  this 
gallant  knight  died  in  his  bed,  in  Castile,  of  sickness,  with  very 
many  more,  as  I  shall  fully  relate  when  arrived  at  that  part  of 
my  histor}\ 

When  king  Richard,  who  was  amusing  himself  in  Wales, 
heard  of  the  death  of  sir  Simon  Burley,  he  was  very  wroth;  for 
he  had  been  one  of  his  tutors  and  had  educated  him;  and  he 
swore  it  should  not  remain  unrevenged,  for  he  had  been  cruelly 
put  to  death,  and  without  the  smallest  plea  of  justice.  The 
queen  also  bewailed  his  loss ;  for  he  had  been  the  principal 
promoter  of  her  marriage,  and  had  conducted  her  from  Germany 
to  England.  The  king's  council  began  now  to  be  seriously 
alarmed,  such  as  the  duke  of  Ireland,  sir  Nicholas  Bramber,  sir 
Robert  Tresilian,  sir  John  Beauchamp,  sir  John  Salisbury,  and 
sir  Michael  de  la  Pole.  The  archbishop  of  York,  whose  name 
was  William  Neville,  brother  to  the  lord  Neville  of  Northumber- 
land, was  dismissed  from  his  office  of  lord  treasurer,  which  he 
had  held  a  considerable  time,  and  forbidden,  by  the  duke  of 
Gloucester,  if  he  valued  his  life,  ever  again  to  intermeddle  with 
the  affairs  of  England;    but  he  might  retire  to  his  bishopric 


206  SROISSART. 

of  York,  or  to  any  other  part  of  his  diocese,  for  that  of  late  he 
had  been  by  far  too  busy.  He  was  told  that,  from  considera- 
tion of  his  dignity  and  birth,  many  things  had  been  overlooked 
that  were  highly  disgraceful  to  him ;  and  that  the  greater  part 
of  the  deputies  from  the  cities  and  towns  were  for  having  him 
degraded  from  the  priesthood,  and  punished  in  like  manner  to 
sir  Simon  Burley.  He  soon  left  London,  and  went  to  reside  on 
his  archbishopric  in  the  north,  which  was  worth  to  him  about 
forty  thousand  francs  a  year.  His  whole  family  were  much 
enraged,  and  thought  his  disgrace  had  been  caused  by  Henry 
of  Northumberland,  though  he  was  his  relation  and  neighbour. 

Now,  consider  in  your  own  mind  if  I  had  not  good  cause  to 
say  that  England  was,  at  this  period,  in  the  greatest  peril  of 
being  ruined  past  recovery.  It  certainly  was,  from  the  causes 
you  have  heard ;  for  the  king  was  exasperated  against  his  uncles 
and  the  principal  nobility  of  the  kingdom,  and  they  were  so 
likewise  against  him  and  many  nobles  of  his  party.  The  cities 
and  towns  were  quarrelling  with  each  other,  and  the  prelates 
in  mutual  hatred,  so  that  no  remedy  for  all  these  evils  could  be 
looked  for  but  from  God  alone.  The  duke  of  Ireland,  when  he 
perceived  he  had  gained  the  king,  and  the  greater  number  of 
those  in  Bristol,  Wales,  and  the  adjoining  parts,  proceeded  to 
say  to  the  king,  "  My  lord,  if  you  will  appoint  me  your  lieu- 
tenant, I  will  lead  twelve  or  fifteen  thousand  men  to  London,  or 
to  Oxford,  which  is  yours  and  my  city,  and  show  my  strength  to 
these  Londoners  and  your  uncles,  who  have  treated  you  with 
such  indignity,  and  have  put  some  of  your  council  to  death,  and 
by  fair  words  or  otherwise,  reduce  them  to  obedience."  The 
king  replied,  he  was  satisfied ;  adding,  "  I  now  nominate  you 
lieutenant-general  of  my  kingdom,  to  assemble  men  wherever 
you  can  raise  them,  and  to  lead  them  whithersoever  you  shall 
think  it  will  be  most  for  the  advantage  of  our  realm,  that  all  ma> 
see  the  whole  of  it  to  be  our  inheritance  and  right.  I  order  you 
to  bear  our  banner,  guidon,  standard,  and  other  our  proper 
habiliments  of  war,  which  we  ourselves  should  have  done,  had 
we  taken  the  field.  I  should  imagine  that  all  conditions  of  men, 
on   perceiving  my    banners,   would   flock    to  enrol   themselves 


FROTSSART.  201 

under  them,  and  would  be  fearful  of  incurring,  by  a  contrary 
conduct,  my  displeasure."  This  speech  greatly  rejoiced  the 
duke  of  Ireland. 

The  king  of  England  issued  his  summons  to  many  great 
barons,  knights,  and  squires  in  Wales,  in  the  country  round 
Bristol,  and  on  the  Severn  side.  Some  excused  themselves  by 
sending  satisfactory  reasons ;  but  others  came  and  placed  them- 
selves under  the  obedience  of  the  king,  notwithstanding  their 
conviction  that  it  was  impossible  to  augur  anything  good  from 
the  enterprise. 

While  this  army  was  collecting,  the  king  and  the  duke,  in 
a  secret  conference,  determined  to  send  one  of  their  confidential 
friends  to  London,  to  observe  what  was  going  forward,  and,  if 
the  king's  uncles  still  remained  there,  to  discover  what  they 
were  doing.  After  some  consideration,  they  could  not  think  on 
a  proper  person  to  send  on  this  errand ;  when  a  knight,  who  was 
cousin  to  the  duke,  and  of  the  king's  as  well  as  of  his  council, 
called  sir  Robert  Tresilian,  stepped  forth,  and  said  to  the  duke, 
"  I  see  the  difficulty  you  have  to  find  a  trusty  person  to  send 
to  London :  I  will,  from  my  love  to  you,  risk  the  adventure." 
The  king  and  the  duke,  well  pleased  with  the  offer,  thanked 
him  for  it.  Tresilian  left  Bristol  disguised  like  a  poor  trades- 
man, mounted  on  a  wretched  hackney :  he  continued  his  road 
to  London,  and  lodged  at  an  inn  where  he  was  unknown ;  for 
no  one  could  have  ever  imagined  that  one  of  the  king's 
counsellors  and  chamberlains  would  have  appeared  in  so 
miserable  a  dress. 

When  in  London,  he  picked  up  all  the  news  that  was  public, 
for  he  could  not  do  more,  respecting  the  king's  uncles  and  the 
citizens.  Having  heard  there  was  to  be  a  meeting  of  the  dukes 
and  their  council  at  Westminster,  he  determined  to  go  thither 
to  learn  secretly  all  he  could  of  their  proceedings.  This  he 
executed,  and  fixed  his  quarters  at  an  ale-house  right  opposite 
the  palace-gate :  he  chose  a  chamber  whose  window  looked  into 
the  palace-yard,  where  he  posted  himself  to  observe  all  who 
should  come  to  this  parliament.  The  greater  part  he  knew,  but 
was  not,    from   his    disguise,   known  to   them.     He,    however, 


202  FROISSART. 

remained  there,  at  different  times,  so  long,  that  a  squire  of  the 
duke  of  Gloucester  saw  and  knew  him,  for  he  had  been  many 
times  in  his  company.  Sir  Robert  instantly  recollected  him,  and 
withdrew  from  the  window ;  but  the  squire,  having  his  suspicions, 
said,  "Surely  that  must  be  Tresilian;"  and  to  be  certain  of  it, 
he  entered  the  ale-house,  and  said  to  the  landlady,  "  Dame,  tell 
me,  on  your  troth,  who  is  he  drinking  above :  is  he  alone  or  in 
company  ?"  "  On  my  troth,  sir,"  she  replied,  "  I  cannot  tell  you 
his  name;  but  he  has  been  here  some  time."  At  these  words 
the  squire  went  upstairs  to  know  the  truth,  and  having  saluted 
sir  Robert,  found  he  was  right,  though  he  dissembled  by  say- 
ing, "  God  preserve  you,  master :  I  hope  you  will  not  take  my 
coming  amiss,  for  I  thought  you  had  been  one  of  my  farmers 
from  Essex,  as  you  are  so  very  like  him."  "  By  no  means," 
said  sir  Robert:  "  I  am  from  Kent,  and  hold  lands  of  sir  John 
Holland,  and  wish  to  lay  my  complaints  before  the  council 
against  the  tenants  of  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury,  who 
encroach  much  on  my  farm."  "  If  you  will  come  into  the  hall," 
said  the  squire,  "  I  will  have  way  made  for  you  to  lay  your 
grievances  before  the  lords."  "  Many  thanks,"  replied  sir 
Robert:  "not  at  this  moment,  but  I  shall  not  renounce  your 
assistance."  At  these  words  the  squire  ordered  a  quart  of  ale, 
which  having  paid  for,  he  said,  "  God  be  with  you  !  "  and  left 
the  ale-house.  He  lost  no  time  in  hastening  to  the  council- 
chamber,  and  called  to  the  usher  to  open  the  door.  The  usher, 
knowing  him,  asked  his  business :  he  said,  "  he  must  instantly 
speak  with  the  duke  of  Gloucester,  on  matters  that  nearly  con- 
cerned him  and  the  council."  The  usher,  on  this,  bade  him 
enter,  which  he  did,  and  made  up  to  the  duke  of  Gloucester, 
saying,  "My  lord,  I  bring  you  great  news."  "Of  what?" 
replied  the  duke.  "  My  lord,  I  will  tell  it  aloud;  for  it  concerns 
not  only  you  but  all  the  lords  present.  I  have  seen  sir  Robert 
Tresilian,  disguised  like  a  peasant,  in  an  ale-house  close  by  the 
palace-gate."  "  Tresilian  ! "  said  the  duke.  "  On  my  faith, 
my  lord,  it  is  true;  and  you  shall  have  him  to  dine  with  you,  if 
you  please."  "I  should  like  it  much,"  replied  the  duke;  "for 
he  will  tell  us  some  news  of  his  master,  the  duke  of  Ireland. 


FROISSART.  203 

Go,  and  secure  him;    but   with  power  enough   not  to  be    in 
danger  of  failing." 

The  squire,  on  these  orders,  left  the  council-chamber,  and, 
having  chosen  four  bailiffs,  said  to  them,  "Follow  me  at  a 
distance;  and,  as  soon  as  you  shall  perceive  me  make  you 
a  sign  to  arrest  a  man  I  am  in  search  of,  lay  hands  on  him,  and 
take  care  he  do  not,  on  any  account,  escape  from  you."  The 
squire  made  for  the  ale-house  where  he  had  left  sir  Robert,  and, 
mounting  the  staircase  to  the  room  where  he  was,  said,  on  enter- 
ing, "  Tresilian,  you  are  not  come  to  this  country  for  any  good, 
as  I  imagine:  my  lord  of  Gloucester  sends  for  you,  and  you 
must  come  and  speak  with  him."  The  knight  turned  a  deaf 
ear,  and  would  have  been  excused,  if  he  could,  by  saying,  "  I 
am  not  Tresilian,  but  a  tenant  of  sir  John  Holland."  "  That  is 
not  true,"  replied  the  squire;  "  your  body  is  Tresilian's,  though 
not  your  dress."  And,  making  the  signal  to  the  bailiffs,  who 
were  at  the  door,  they  entered  the  house  and  arrested  him,  and, 
whether  he  would  or  not,  carried  him  to  the  palace.  You  may 
believe  there  was  a  great  crowd  to  see  him ;  for  he  was  well 
known  in  London,  and  in  many  parts  of  England  The  duke 
of  Gloucester  was  much  pleased,  and  would  see  him.  When  in 
his  presence,  the  duke  said:  "Tresilian,  what  has  brought  you 
hither?  How  fares  my  sovereign.'*  Where  does  he  now 
reside?"  Tresilian,  finding  he  was  discovered,  and  that  no 
excuses  would  avail,  replied,  "  On  my  faith,  my  lord,  the  king 
has  sent  me  hither  to  learn  the  news :  he  is  at  Bristol,  and  on 
the  banks  of  the  Severn,  where  he  hunts  and  amuses  himself." 
"  How  1 "  said  the  duke,  "  you  do  not  come  dressed  like  an 
honest  man,  but  like  a  spy.  If  you  had  been  desirous  to  learn 
what  was  passing,  your  appearance  should  have  been  like  that 
of  a  knight  or  a  discreet  person."  "  My  lord,"  answered 
Tresilian,  "  if  I  have  done  wrong,  I  hope  you  will  excuse  me ; 
for  I  have  only  done  w  hat  I  was  ordered."  "  And  where  is 
your  master,  the  duke  of  Ireland  ? "  "  My  lord,"  said  Tresilian, 
"  he  is  with  the  king,  our  lord."  The  duke  then  added,  "  We 
have  been  informed  that  he  is  collecting  a  large  body  of  men, 
and  that  the  king  has  issued    his  summons    to    that    effect: 


204  FROISSART. 

whither  does  he  mean  to  lead  them?''  "My  lord,  they  are 
intended  for  Ireland."  "For  Ireland?"  said  the  duke.  "Yes, 
indeed,  as  God  may  help  me,"  answered  Tresilian. 

The  duke  mused  awhile,  and  then  spoke:  "Tresilian, 
Tresilian,  your  actions  are  neither  fair  nor  honest;  and  you 
have  committed  a  great  piece  of  folly  in  coming  to  these  parts, 
where  you  are  far  from  being  loved,  as  will  be  shortly  shown 
to  you.  You,  and  others  of  your  faction,  have  done  what 
has  greatly  displeased  my  brother  and  myself,  and  have  ill- 
counselled  the  king,  whom  you  have  made  to  quarrel  with  his 
chief  nobility.  In  addition,  you  have  excited  the  principal 
towns  against  us.  The  day  of  retribution  is  therefore  come, 
when  you  shall  receive  payment;  for  whoever  acts  justly 
receives  his  reward :  look  to  your  affairs,  for  I  will  neither  eaf 
nor  drink  until  you  be  no  more."  This  speech  greatly  terrified 
sir  Robert  (for  no  one  likes  to  hear  of  his  end),  by  the  manner 
in  which  it  was  uttered.  He  was  desirous  to  obtain  pardon,  by 
various  excuses,  and  the  most  abject  humiliation,  but  in  vain; 
for  the  duke  had  received  information  of  what  was  going  on  at 
Bristol,  and  his  excuses  were  fruitless.  Why  should  I  make  a 
long  story?  Sir  Robert  was  delivered  to  the  hangman,  who 
led  him  out  of  the  palace  to  the  place  of  execution,  where  he 
was  beheaded,  and  then  hung  by  the  arms  to  a  gibbet.  Thus 
ended  sir  Robert  Tresilian. 


BATTLE   BETWEEN   THE  SCOTS   AND   ENGLISH   AT 
OTTERBOURNE. 

I  have  before  related  in  this  history  the  troubles  king  Richard 
of  England  had  suffered  from  his  quarrels  with  his  uncles,  urged 
on  by  the  wicked  counsel  of  the  duke  of  Ireland,  which  had 
caused  several  knights  to  lose  their  heads,  and  the  archbishop 
of  York  nearly  to  be  deprived  of  his  benefice.  By  the  advice 
of  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury  and  the  king's  new  council,  the 
lord  Neville,  who  had  commanded  the  defence  of  the  frontiers 
of  Northumberland  for  five  years  against  the  Scots,  was  dis- 


FROISSART.  ao5 

missed:  for  this  service  he  had  been  paid  by  the  counties  of 
Northumberland  and  Durham  the  sum  of  sixteen  thousand 
francs  annually.  Sir  Henry  Percy  being  appointed  in  his  stead 
to  this  command,  with  a  salary  of  eleven  thousand  francs  yearly, 
was  a  circumstance  which  created  much  animosity  and  hatred 
between  the  Tercies  and  Nevilles,  who  were  neighbours  and 
had  been  friends.  The  barons  and  knights  of  Scotland,  know- 
ing of  this,  determined  on  an  inroad  to  England,  as  the  oppor- 
tunity was  favourable,  now  the  English  were  quarrelling  among 
themselves,  to  make  some  return  for  the  many  insults  they  had 
suffered  from  them. 

In  order  that  their  intentions  might  not  be  known,  they 
appointed  a  feast  to  be  holden  at  Aberdeen,  on  the  borders  of 
the  Highlands.  The  greater  part  of  the  barons  attended;  and 
it  was  then  resolved,  that  in  the  middle  of  August  of  the  year 
1388,  they  would  assemble  all  their  forces  at  a  castle  called 
Jedworth,  situated  amidst  deep  forests  and  on  the  borders  of 
Cumberland.  Having  arranged  everything  concerning  this 
business,  they  separated,  but  never  mentioned  one  word  of 
their  intentions  to  the  king;  for  they  said  among  themselves, 
he  knew  nothing  about  war.  On  the  appointed  day,  earl  James 
Douglas  first  arrived  at  Jedworth:  then  came  John  earl  of 
Moray,  the  earl  of  March  and  Dunbar,  William  earl  of  Fife, 
John  earl  of  Sutherland,  Stephen  earl  of  Menteith,  William 
earl  of  Mar,  sir  Archibald  Douglas,  sir  Robert  Erskine,  sir 
Malcolm  Drummond,  sir  William  and  sir  James  Lindsay,  sir 
Thomas  Berry,  sir  Alexander  Lindsay,  sir  John  Swinton  of 
Swinton,  sir  John  de  Sandelans,  sir  Patrick  Dunbar,  sir  John 
Sinclair,  sir  Walter  Sinclair,  sir  Patrick  Hepburn,  sir  John 
Montgomery,  sir  John  his  son,  and  his  two  sons;  sir  John 
Maxwell,  sir  Adam  Glendinning,  sir  William  de  Redurin,  sir 
William  Stuart,  sir  John  Halliburton,  sir  John  de  Ludie,  and 
sir  Robert  Lauder,  sir  Stephen  Frazer,  sir  Alexander  and  sir 
John  Ramsay,  sir  William  of  North  Berwick,  sir  Robert  Hart, 
sir  William  Wardlaw,  sir  John  Armstrong,  David  Fleming, 
Robert  Campbell,  with  numbers  of  other  knights  and  squires  of 
Scotland. 


2o6  FROISSART. 

There  had  not  been  seen,  for  sixty  years,  so  numerous  an 
assembly:  they  amounted  to  twelve  hundred  spears,  and  forty 
thousand  other  men  and  archers.  With  the  use  of  the  bow  the 
Scots  are  little  acquainted ;  but  they  sling  their  axes  over  their 
shoulders,  and,  when  engaged  in  battle,  give  deadly  blows  with 
them.  These  lords  were  well  pleased  on  meeting  each  other, 
and  declared  they  would  never  return  to  their  homes  without 
having  made  an  inroad  on  England,  and  to  such  an  effect  that 
it  should  be  remembered  for  twenty  years  to  come.  The  more 
completely  to  combine  their  plans,  they  fixed  another  meeting 
to  be  held  at  a  church  in  the  forest  of  Jedworth,  called  Zedon, 
before  they  began  their  march  to  England. 

Intelligence  was  carried  to  the  earl  of  Northumberland  (for 
everything  is  known  to  those  who  are  diligent  in  their  inquiries), 
to  his  children,  to  the  seneschal  of  York,  and  to  sir  Matthew 
Redman,  governor  of  Berwick,  of  the  great  feast  that  was  to  be 
kept  at  Aberdeen.  To  learn  what  was  done  at  it,  these  lords 
sent  thither  Ijeralds  and  minstrels.  The  Scots  barons  could 
not  transact  their  business  so  secretly  but  it  was  known  to  these 
minstrels,  that  there  was  to  be  a  grand  assembly  of  men-at- 
arms  in  the  forest  of  Jedworth.  They  observed  also  much 
agitation  through  the  country,  and,  on  their  return  to  Newcastle, 
gave  a  faithful  report  of  all  they  had  seen  or  heard  to  their 
lords.  The  barons  and  knights  of  Northumberland  in  conse- 
quence made  their  preparations,  but  very  secretly,  that  the 
Scots  might  not  know  of  it,  and  put  off  their  intended  inroad, 
and  had  retired  to  their  castles  ready  to  sally  forth  on  the  first 
notice  of  the  arrival  of  the  enemy.  They  said,  "  If  the  Scots 
enter  the  country  through  Cumberland  by  Carlisle,  we  will  ride 
into  Scotland,  and  do  them  more  damage  than  they  can  do  to 
us;  for  theirs  is  an  open  country,  which  maybe  entered  any- 
where, but  ours  is  the  contrary,  with  strong  and  well-fortified 
towns  and  castles." 

To  be  more  sure  of  their  intentions,  they  resolved  to  send 
an  English  gentleman,  well  acquainted  with  the  country,  to 
this  meeting  in  the  forest  of  Jedworth.  The  English  squire 
journeyed  without  interruption  until  he  came  to  the  church  of 


FJiOISSART.  207 

Yetholm,  where  the  Scots  barons  were  assembled,  and  entered 
it,  as  a  servant  followini,'-  his  master,  and  heard  the  greater  part 
of  their  plans.  When  the  meeting-  was  near  breaking  up,  he 
left  the  church  on  his  return  and  went  to  a  tree,  thinking  to 
find  his  horse  which  he  had  tied  there  by  the  bridle,  but  he  was 
gone;  for  a  Scotsman  (they  are  all  thieves)  had  stolen  him. 
He  was  fearful  of  making  a  noise  about  it,  and  set  off  on  foot, 
though  booted  and  spurred.  He  had  not  gone  two  bow-shots 
from  the  church  before  he  was  noticed  by  two  Scots  knights 
who  were  in  conversation.  The  first  who  saw  him  said,  "  I 
have  witnessed  many  wonderful  things,  but  what  I  now  see  is 
equal  to  any :  that  man  yonder  has,  I  believe,  lost  his  horse, 
and  yet  makes  no  inquiries  after  it.  On  my  troth,  I  doubt  much 
if  he  belongs  to  us:  let  us  go  after  him,  and  see  whether  I  am 
right  or  not"  The  two  knights  soon  overtook  him.  On  their 
approach  he  was  alarmed,  and  wished  himself  anywhere  else. 
They  asked  him  whither  he  was  going,  whence  he  had  come, 
and  what  he  had  done  with  his  horse.  As  he  contradicted 
himself  in  his  answers,  they  laid  hands  on  him,  and  said  he 
must  come  before  their  captains,  and  he  was  brought  back  to 
the  church  of  Yetholm,  to  the  earl  of  Douglas  and  the  other 
lords.  They  examined  him  closely,  for  they  knew  him  for  an 
Englishman,  as  to  the  reasons  he  had  come  thither,  and  assured 
him  if  he  did  not  truly  answer  all  their  questions,  his  head 
should  be  struck  off;  but  if  he  told  the  truth,  no  harm  should 
happen  to  him.  Very  unwillingly  he  obeyed,  for  the  love 
of  life  prevailed;  and  the  Scots  barons  learnt  that  he  had 
been  sent  by  the  earl  of  Northumberland  to  discover  the 
number  of  their  forces,  and  whither  they  were  to  march.  This 
intelligence  gave  them  the  greatest  pleasure,  and  they  would 
not  on  any  account  but  have  taken  this  spy. 

He  was  asked  where  the  barons  of  Northumberland  were  ? 
if  they  had  any  intentions  of  making  an  excursion?  and  what 
road  to  Scotland  they  would  take:  along  the  sea-shore  from 
Berwick  ito  Dunbar,  or  by  the  mountains  through  the  country 
of  Menteith  to  Stirling?  He  replied,  "Since  you  will  force 
me  to  tell  the  truth,  when  I  left  Newcastle,  there  were  not  any 


208  FROISSART. 

signs  of  an  excursion  being  made ;  but  the  barons  are  all  ready 
to  set  out  at  a  moment's  warning,  as  soon  as  they  shall  hear 
you  have  entered  England.  They  will  not  oppose  you,  for  they 
are  not  in  sufficient  numbers  to  meet  so  large  a  body  as  you  are 
reported  to  them  to  consist  of."  "  And  what  do  they  estimate 
our  numbers  at  in  Northumberland?"  said  lord  Moray.  "  They 
say,  my  lord,"  replied  the  squire,  "that  you  have  full  forty 
thousand  men,  and  twelve  hundred  spears;  and  by  way  of 
counteracting  your  career,  should  you  march  to  Cumberland, 
they  will  take  the  road  through  Berwick  to  Dunbar,  Dalkeith, 
and  Edinburgh:  if  you  follow  the  other  road,  they  will  then 
march  to  Carlisle,  and  enter  your  country  by  these  mountains." 
The  Scottish  lords,  on  hearing  this,  were  silent,  but  looked  at 
each  other.  The  English  squire  was  delivered  to  the  governor 
of  the  castle  of  Jedworth,  with  orders  to  have  particular  guard 
over  him;  when  they  conferred  together  in  the  church  of 
Yetholm,  and  formed  other  plans. 

The  barons  of  Scotland  were  in  high  spirits  at  this  intelli- 
gence, and  considered  their  success  as  certain,  now  they  knew 
the  disposition  of  the  enemy.  They  held  a  council,  as  to  their 
mode  of  proceeding,  and  the  wisest  and  most  accustomed  to 
arms,  such  as  sir  Archibald  Douglas,  the  earl  of  Fife,  sir 
Alexander  Ramsay,  sir  John  Sinclair,  and  sir  James  Lindsay, 
were  the  speakers :  they  said,  "  That  to  avoid  any  chance  of 
failing  in  their  attempt,  they  would  advise  the  army  to  be 
divided,  and  two  expeditions  to  be  made,  so  that  the  enemy 
might  be  puzzled  whither  to  march  their  forces.  The  largest 
division,  with  the  baggage,  should  go  to  Carlisle,  in  Cumber- 
land: and  the  other,  consisting  of  three  or  four  hundred  spears, 
and  two  thousand  stout  infantry  and  archers,  all  well  mounted, 
should  make  for  Nevvcastle-on-Tyne,  cross  the  river,  and  enter 
Durham,  spoiling  and  burning  the  country.  They  will  have 
committed  great  waste  in  England  before  our  enemies  can  have 
any  information  of  their  being  there :  if  we  find  they  come  in 
pursuit  of  us,  which  they  certainly  will,  we  will  then  unite 
together,  and  fix  on  a  proper  place  to  ofier  them  battle,  as  we 
all  seem  to  have  that  desire,  and  to  gain  honour;  for  it  is  time 


FROISSART.  209 

to  repay  them  some  of  the  mischiefs  they  have  clone  to  us." 
This  plan  was  adopted,  and  sir  Archibald  Douglas,  the  earl  of 
Fife,  the  carl  of  Sutherland,  the  earl  of  Mcnteith,  the  carl  of 
Mar,  the  earl  of  Strathcrne,  sir  Stephen  Frazer,  sir  George 
Dunbar,  with  sixteen  other  great  barons  of  Scotland,  were 
ordered  to  the  command  of  the  largest  division  that  was  to 
inarch  to  Carlisle.  The  earl  of  Douglas,  the  earl  of  March  and 
Dunbar,  and  the  earl  of  Moray  were  appointed  leaders  of  the 
three  hundred  picked  lances  and  two  thousand  infantry,  who 
were  to  advance  to  Newcastle-on-Tyne  and  invade  Northumber- 
land. When  these  two  divisions  separated,  the  lords  took  a 
very  affectionate  leave  of  each  other,  promising  that  if  the 
English  took  the  field  against  them,  they  would  not  fight  until 
they  were  all  united,  which  would  give  them  such  a  superiority 
of  force  as  must  ensure  victory.  They  then  left  the  forest  of 
Jedworth,  one  party  marching  to  the  right  and  the  other  to  the 
left.  The  barons  of  Northumberland  not  finding  their  squire 
return,  nor  hearing  anything  of  the  Scots,  began  to  suspect  the 
accident  which  had  happened.  They  therefore  ordered  every 
one  to  be  prepared  to  march  at  a  moment's  notice,  or  when 
they  should  hear  of  the  Scots  having  entered  the  country,  for 
they  considered  their  squire  as  lost. 

Let  us  return  to  the  expedition  under  the  earl  of  Douglas 
and  his  companions,  for  they  had  more  to  do  than  the  division 
that  went  to  Carlisle,  and  were  eager  to  perform  some  deeds  of 
arms.  When  the  earls  of  Douglas,  Moray,  and  March  were 
separated  from  the  main  body,  they  determined  to  cross  the 
Tyne  and  enter  the  bishopric  of  Durham,  and,  after  they  had 
despoiled  and  burnt  that  country  as  far  as  the  city  of  Durham, 
to  return  by  Newcastle,  and  quarter  themselves  there  in  spite  of 
the  English.  This  they  executed,  and  riding  at  a  good  pace, 
through  bye-roads,  without  attacking  town,  castle,  or  house, 
arrived  on  the  lands  of  the  lord  Percy,  and  crossed  the  river 
Tyne,  without  any  opposition,  at  the  place  they  had  fixed  on, 
about  three  leagues  above  Newcastle,  near  to  Brancepeth, 
where  they  entered  the  rich  countr}'  of  Durham,  and  instantly 
began  their  war,  by  burning  towns  and  slaying  the  inhabitants. 

14 


2IO  FROISSART. 

Neither  the  earl  of  Northumberland  nor  the  barons  and 
knights  of  the  country  had  heard  anything  of  their  invasion: 
but  when  intelligence  came  to  Durham  and  Newcastle  that  the 
Scots  were  abroad,  which  was  indeed  visible  enough  from  the 
smoke  that  was  everywhere  seen,  the  earl  of  Northumberland 
sent  his  two  sons  to  Newcastle;  but  he  himself  remained  at 
Alnwick,  and  issued  his  orders  for  every  one  to  repair  thither 
also.  Before  his  sons  left  him,  he  said,  "You  will  hasten  to 
Newcastle,  where  the  whole  country  will  join  you:  I  will 
remain  here,  for  it  is  the  road  they  may  return  by :  if  we  can 
surround  them,  we  shall  do  well ;  but  I  know  not  for  certain 
where  they  now  are."  Sir  Henry  and  sir  Ralph  Percy  obeyed 
their  father's  orders,  and  made  for  Newcastle  accompanied  by 
the  gentlemen  and  others  fit  to  bear  arms.  In  the  meantime, 
the  Scots  continued  destroying  and  burning  all  before  them,  so 
that  the  smoke  was  visible  at  Newcastle.  They  came  to  the 
gates  of  Durham,  where  they  skirmished,  but  made  no  long 
stay,  and  set  out  on  their  return,  as  they  had  planned  at  the 
beginning  of  the  expedition,  driving  and  carrying  away  all  the 
booty  they  thought  worth  their  pains.  The  country  is  very  rich 
between  Durham  and  Newcastle,  which  is  but  twelve  English 
miles  distant:  there  was  not  a  town  in  all  this  district,  unless 
well  enclosed,  that  was  not  burnt.  The  Scots  recrossed  the 
Tyne  at  the  same  place,  and  came  before  Newcastle,  where 
they  halted.  All  the  knights  and  squires  of  the  country  were 
collected  at  Newcastle,  and  thither  came  the  seneschal  of  York, 
sir  Ralph  Langley,  sir  Matthew  Redman,  governor  of  Berwick, 
sir  Robert  Ogle,  sir  Thomas  Grey,  sir  Thomas  Halton,  sir  John 
Felton,  sir  John  Lilburne,  sir  William  Walsingham,  sir  Thomas 
Abington,  the  baron  of  Halton,  sir  John  Copeland,  and  so 
many  others,  the  town  was  filled  with  more  than  it  could  lodge. 
The  three  Scots  lords,  having  completed  the  object  of  their 
expedition  into  Durham,  lay  before  Newcastle  three  days,  where 
there  was  an  almost  continual  skirmish.  The  sons  of  the  earl 
of  Northumberland,  from  their  great  courage,  were  always  the 
first  at  the  barriers,  when  many  valiant  deeds  were  done  with 
lances  hand  to  hand.     The  earl  of  Douglas  had  a  long  conflict 


FROISSART.  211 

with  sir  Henry  Percy,  and  in  it,  by  gallantry  of  arms,  won  his 
pennon,  to  the  great  vexation  of  sir  Heniy  and  the  other 
English.  The  earl  of  Douglas  said,  "  I  will  carry  this  token 
of  your  prowess  with  me  to  Scotland,  and  place  it  on  the 
tower  of  my  castle  at  Dalkeith,  that  it  may  be  seen  from  far." 
"By  God,  earl  of  Douglas,"'  replied  sir  Henry,  "you  shall  not 
even  bear  it  out  of  Northumberland  :  be  assured  you  shall  never 
have  this  pennon  to  brag  of."  "  You  must  come  then,"  answered 
earl  Douglas,  "this  night  and  seek  for  it.  I  will  fix  your 
pennon  before  my  tent,  and  shall  see  if  you  will  venture  to  take 
it  away." 

As  it  was  now  late,  the  skirmish  ended,  and  each  party  retired 
to  their  quarters,  to  disarm  and  comfort  themselves.  They  had 
plenty  of  ever^-thing,  particularly  flesh  meat.  The  Scots  kept 
up  a  veiy  strict  watch,  concluding,  from  the  words  of  sir  Henry 
Percy,  they  should  have  their  quarters  beaten  up  this  night : 
they  were  disappointed,  for  sir  Heniy  was  advised  to  defer  it. 

On  the  morrow,  the  Scots  dislodged  from  before  Newcastle ; 
and,  taking  the  road  to  their  own  country,  they  came  to  a  town 
and  castle  called  Ponclau,  of  which  sir  Raymond  de  Laval,  a 
very  valiant  knight  of  Northumberland,  was  the  lord.  They 
halted  there  about  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  as  they  learned 
the  knight  to  be  within  it,  and  made  preparations  for  the 
assault.  This  was  done  with  such  courage  that  the  place  was 
won,  and  the  knight  made  prisoner.  After  they  had  burnt  the 
town  and  castle,  they  marched  away  for  Otterbourne,  which 
was  eight  English  leagues  from  Newcastle,  and  there  encamped 
themselves. 

This  day  they  made  no  attack;  but,  very  early  on  the  morrow, 
their  trumpets  sounded,  and  they  made  ready  for  the  assault, 
advancing  towards  the  castle,  which  was  tolerably  strong,  and 
situated  among  marshes.  They  attacked  it  so  long  and  so 
unsuccessfully,  that  they  were  fatigued,  and  therefore  sounded 
a  retreat.  When  they  had  retired  to  their  quarters,  the  chiefs 
held  a  council  how  to  act;  and  the  greater  part  were  for 
decamping  on  the  morrow,  without  attempting  more  against 
to  join  their  countrymen  in  the  neighbourhood  of 


212  FROISSART, 

Carlisle.  But  the  earl  of  Douglas  overruled  this,  by  saying: 
"  In  despite  of  sir  Henry  Percy,\vho  the  day  before  yesterday 
declared  he  would  take  from  me  his  pennon,  that  \  conquered 
by  fair  deeds  of  arms  before  the  gates  of  Newcastle,  I  will  not 
depart  hence  for  two  or  three  days;  and  we  will  renew  our 
attack  on  the  castle,  for  it  is  to  be  taken :  we  shall  thus  gain 
double  honour,  and  see  if  within  that  time  he  will  come  for  his 
pennon :  if  he  do,  it  shall  be  well  defended."  Every  one  agreed 
to  what  earl  Douglas  had  said ;  for  it  was  not  only  honourable, 
but  he  was  the  principal  commander;  and  from  affection  to 
him,  they  quietly  returned  to  their  quarters.  They  made  huts 
of  trees  and  branches,  and  strongly  fortified  themselves.  They 
placed  their  baggage  and  servants  at  the  entrance  of  the  marsh 
on  the  road  to  Newcastle,  and  the  cattle  they  drove  into  the 
marsh  lands. 

1  will  return  to  sir  Henry  and  sir  Ralph  Percy,  who  were 
greatly  mortified  that  the  earl  of  Douglas  should  have  conquered 
their  pennon  in  the  skirmish  before  Newcastle.  They  felt  the 
more  for  this  disgrace,  because  sir  Henry  had  not  kept  his 
word;  for  he  had  told  the  earl  that  he  should  never  carry  his 
pennon  out  of  England,  and  this  he  had  explained  to  the  knights 
Avho  were  with  him  m  Newcastle.  The  English  imagined  the 
army  under  the  earl  of  Douglas  to  be  only  the  van  of  the  Scots, 
and  that  the  main  body  was  behind ;  for  which  reason  those 
knights  who  had  the  most  experience  in  arms,  and  were  the 
best  acquainted  with  warlike  affairs,  strongly  opposed  the 
proposal  ot  sir  Henry  Percy  to  pursue  them.  They  said,  "  Sir, 
many  losses  happen  in  war:  if  the  earl  of  Douglas  has  won 
your  pennon,  he  has  bought  it  dear  enough  ;  for  he  has  come  to 
the  gates  to  seek  it,  and  has  been  well  fought  with.  Another 
time,  you  will  gain  from  him  as  much  if  not  more.  We  say  so, 
because  you  know,  as  well  as  we  do,  that  the  whole  power  of 
Scotland  has  taken  the  field.  We  are  not  sufficiently  strong  to 
ofter  them  battle;  and  perhaps  this  skirmish  may  have  been  only 
a  trick  to  draw  us  out  of  the  town  ;  and  if  they  be  as  reported, 
forty  thousand  strong,  they  will  surround  us,  and  have  us  at 
their  mercy.     It  is  much  better  to  lose  a  pennon  than  two  or 


FROISSART.  213 

three  hundred  knights  and  squires,  and  leave  our  country  in  a 
defenceless  state." 

This  speech  checked  the  eagerness  of  the  two  brothers  Percy, 
for  they  would  not  act  contrary  to  the  opinion  of  the  council ; 
when  other  news  was  brought  to  them  by  some  knights  and 
squires  who  had  followed  and  observed  the  Scots,  their  numbers, 
disposition,  and  where  they  had  halted.  This  was  all  fully 
related  by  knights  who  had  traversed  the  whole  extent  of 
country'  the  Scots  had  passed  through,  that  they  might  carry  to 
their  lords  the  most  exact  information.  They  thus  spoke,  "Sir 
Henry  and  Sir  Ralph  Percy,  we  come  to  tell  you  that  we  have 
followed  the  Scottish  army,  and  observed  all  the  country'  where 
they  now  are.  They  first  halted  at  Pontland,  and  took  sir 
Raymond  de  Laval  in  his  castle:  thence  they  went  to  Otter- 
bourne,  and  took  up  their  quarters  for  the  night.  We  are 
ignorant  of  what  they  did  on  the  morrow,  but  they  seemed  to 
have  taken  measures  for  a  long  stay.  We  know  for  certain 
that  their  army  does  not  consist  of  more  than  three  thousand 
men,  including  all  sorts."  Sir  Henry  Percy,  on  hearing  this 
was  greatly  rejoiced,  and  cried  out,  "To  horse  !  to  horse  !  for  by 
the  faith  I  owe  my  God,  and  to  my  lord  and  father,  I  will  seek 
to  recover  my  pennon,  and  to  beat  up  their  quarters  this  night." 
Such  knights  and  squires  in  Newcastle  as  learnt  this  were 
willing  to  be  of  the  party,  and  made  themselves  ready. 

The  bishop  of  Durham  was  expected  daily  at  that  town;  for 
he  had  heard  of  the  irruption  of  the  Scots,  and  that  they  were 
before  it,  in  which  were  the  sons  of  the  earl  of  Northumberland 
preparing  to  offer  them  combat  The  bishop  had  collected  a 
number  of  men,  and  was  hastening  to  their  assistance,  but  sir 
Henry  Percy  would  not  wait ;  for  he  was  accompanied  by  six 
hundred  spears,  of  knights  and  squires,  and  upwards  of  eight 
thousand  infantry,  which,  he  said,  would  be  more  than  enough 
to  fight  the  Scots,  who  were  but  three  hundred  lances  and  two 
thousand  others.  When  they  were  all  assembled,  they  left 
Newcastle  after  dinner,  and  took  the  field  in  good  array, 
following  the  road  the  Scots  had  taken,  making  for  Otterbourne, 
which  was  eight  short   leagues   distant :    but   they  could   not 


214  FROISSART. 

advance  very  fast,  that  their  infantry  might  keep  up  with 
them. 

As  the  Scots  were  supping,  some  indeed  were  gone  to  sleep, 
for  they  had  laboured  hard  during  the  day,  at  the  attack  of  the 
castle,  and  intended  renewing  it  in  the  cool  of  the  morning,  the 
English  arrived,  and  mistook,  at  theii  entrance,  the  huts  of 
the  servants  for  those  of  their  masters.  They  forced  their  way 
into  the  camp,  which  was,  however,  tolerably  strong,  shouting 
out,  "Percy!  Percy!"  In  such  cases,  you  may  suppose  an 
alarm  is  soon  given,  and  it  was  fortunate  for  the  Scbts  the 
English  had  made  their  first  attack  on  their  servants'  quarters, 
which  checked  them  some  little.  The  Scots,  expecting  the 
English,  had  prepared  accordingly;  for,  while  the  lords  were 
arming  themselves,  they  ordered  a  body  of  their  infantry  to  join 
their  servants  and  keep  up  the  skirmish.  As  their  men  were 
armed,  they  formed  themselves  under  the  pennons  of  the  three 
principal  barons,  who  each  had  his  particular  appointment.  In 
the  meantime,  the  night  advanced,  but  it  was  sufficiently  light ; 
for  the  moon  shone,  and  it  was  the  month  of  August,  when  the 
weather  is  temp'erate  and  serene. 

When  the  Scots  were  quite  ready,  and  properly  arrayed,  they 
left  their  camp  in  silence,  but  did  not  march  to  meet  the 
English.  They  skirted  the  side  of  a  mountain  which  was  hard 
by;  for  during  the  preceding  day,  they  had  well  examined  the 
country  around,  and  said  among  themselves,  "  Should  the 
English  come  to  beat  up  our  quarters,  we  will  do  so  and  so," 
and  thus  settled  their  plans  beforehand,  which  was  the  saving 
of  them;  for  it  is  of  the  greatest  advantage  to  men-at-arms, 
when  attacked  in  the  night,  to  have  previously  arranged  their 
mode  of  defence,  and  well  to  have  weighed  the  chance  of 
victory  or  defeat.  The  English  had  soon  overpowered  the 
servants;  but,  as  they  advanced  into  the  camp,  they  found  fresh 
bodies  ready  to  oppose  them,  and  to  continue  the  fight.  The 
Scots  in  the  meantime  marched  along  the  mountain  side,  and 
fell  on  the  enemy's  flank  quite  unexpectedly,  shouting  their 
cries.  This  was  a  great  surprise  to  the  English,  who,  however, 
formed  themselves  in  better  order,  and  reinforced  that  part  of 


FROISSART. 


215 


their  army.     The  cries  of   Percy  and   Douglas   resounded  on 
each  side. 

The  battle  now  raged:  great  was  the  pushing  of  lances,  and 
very  many  of  each  party  were  struck  down  at  the  first  onset. 
The  English  being  more  numerous,  and  anxious  to  defeat  the 
enemy,  kept  in  a  compact  body,  and  forced  the  Scots  to  retire, 
who  were  on  the  point  of  being  discomfited.  The  earl  of 
Douglas  being  young,  and  impatient  to  gain  renown  in  arms, 
ordered  his  banner  to  advance,  shouting,  "  Douglas !  Douglas !  "  ' 
Sir  Henry  and  sir  Ralph  Percy,  indignant  for  the  affront  the 
earl  of  Douglas  had  put  on  them,  by  conquering  their  pennon, 
and  desirous  of  meeting  him,  hastened  to  the  place  from  which 
the  sounds  came,  calling  out  "Percy!  Percy!"  The  two 
banners  met,  and  many  gallant  deeds  of  arms  ensued.  The 
English  were  in  superior  strength,  and  fought  so  lustily  that 
they  drove  back  the  Scots.  Sir  Patrick  Hepburne,  and  his 
son  of  the  same  name,  did  honour  to  their  knighthood  and 
countr)',  by  their  gallantry,  under  the  banner  of  Douglas,  which 
would  have  been  conquered  but  for  the  vigorous  defence  they 
made;  and  this  circumstance  not  only  contributed  to  their 
personal  credit,  but  the  memory  of  it  is  continued  with  honour 
to  their  descendants. 

I  was  made  acquainted  with  all  the  particulars  of  this  battle 
by  knights  and  squires  who  had  been  actors  in  it  on  each  side. 
There  were  also,  with  the  English,  two  valiant  knights  from 
the  county  of  Foix,  w^hom  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  meet  at 
Orthes  the  year  after  this  battle  had  been  fought.  Their  names 
were  sir  John  de  Chateauneuf  and  John  de  Cautiron.  On  my 
return  from  Foix,  I  met  likewise  at  Avignon  a  knight  and  two 
squires  of  Scotland,  of  the  party  of  earl  Douglas.  They  knew 
me  again,  from  the  recollections  I  brought  to  their  minds  of 
their  own  countr>'i  for  in  my  youth,  I,  the  author  of  this  history, 
travelled  all  through  Scotland,  and  was  full  fifteen  days  resident 
with  William,  earl  of  Douglas,  father  of  earl  James,  of  whom  we 
are  now  speaking,  at  his  castle  of  Dalkeith,  five  miles  distant 
from  Edinburgh;— Earl  James  was  then  very  young,  but  a 
promising  youth,  and  he  had  a  sister  called  Blanche.     I  had 


2i6  FROISSART. 

my  information,  therefore,  from  both  parties,  who  agreed  that  it 
was  the  hardest  and  most  obstinate  battle  that  was  ever  fought. 
This  I  readily  believed,  for  the  English  and  Scots  are  excellent 
men-at-arms,  and  whenever  they  meet  in  battle  they  do  not 
spare  each  other ;  nor  is  there  any  check  to  their  courage  so 
long  as  their  weapons  endure.  When  they  have  well  beaten 
each  other,  and  one  party  is  victorious,  they  are  so  proud  of 
their  conquest,  that  they  ransom  their  prisoners  instantly,  and 
in  such  courteous  manner  to  those  who  have  been  taken,  that 
on  their  departure  they  return  them  their  thanks.  However, 
when  in  battle,  there  is  no  boy's  play  between  them,  nor  do  they 
shrink  from  the  combat :  and  you  will  see,  in  the  further  detail 
of  this  battle,  as  excellent  deeds  performed  as  were  ever 
witnessed. 

The  knights  and  squires  of  either  party  were  anxious  to 
continue  the  combat  with  vigour  as  long  as  their  spears  might 
be  capable  of  holding.  Cowardice  was  there  unknown,  and  the 
most  splendid  courage  was  everywhere  exhibited  by  the  gallant 
youths  of  England  and  Scotland:  they  were  so  closely  inter- 
mixed, that  the  archers'  bows  were  useless,  and  they  fought 
hand  to  hand  without  either  battalion  giving  way.  The  Scots 
behaved  most  valiantly,  for  the  English  were  three  to  one.  I 
do  not  mean  to  say  the  English  did  not  acquit  themselves  well ; 
for  they  would  sooner  be  slain  or  made  prisoners  in  battle, 
than  reproached  with  flight.  As  I  before  mentioned,  the  two 
banners  of  Douglas  and  Percy  met,  and  the  men-at-arms,  under 
each,  exerted  themselves  by  every  means,  to  gain  the  victory : 
but  the  English  at  this  attack  were  so  much  the  stronger,  that 
the  Scots  were  driven  back.  The  earl  of  Douglas,  who  was  of 
a  high  spirit,  seeing  his  men  repulsed,  seized  a  battle-axe  with 
both  his  hands,  like  a  gallant  knight,  and,  to  rally  his  men. 
dashed  into  the  midst  of  his  enemies,  and  gave  such  blows  on 
all  around  him,  that  no  one  could  withstand  them,  but  all  made 
way  for  him  on  every  side ;  for  there  was  none  so  well  armed 
with  helmets  or  plates  but  that  they  suftered  from  his  battle- 
axe.  Thus  he  advanced,  like  another  Hector,  thinking  to 
recover  and  conquer  the  ticld,  from  his  own  prowess,  until  he 


FJ^OISSART.  21 J 

was  met  by  three  spears  that  were  pointed  at  him  :  one  struck 
him  on  the  shoulder,  another  on  the  stomach,  near  the  belly, 
and  the  third  entered  his  thigh.  He  could  never  disengage 
himself  from  these  spears,  but  was  borne  to  the  ground  fighting 
desperately.  From  that  moment  he  never  rose  again.  Some 
of  his  knights  and  squires  had  followed  him,  but  not  all;  for, 
though  the  moon  shone,  it  was  rather  dark.  The  three  English 
lances  knew  they  had  struck  down  some  person  of  consider- 
able rank,  but  never  thought  it  was  earl  Douglas:  had  they 
known  it,  they  would  have  been  so  rejoiced  that  their  courage 
would  have  been  redoubled,  and  the  fortune  of  the  day  had 
consequently  been  determined  to  their  side.  The  Scots  were 
ignorant  also  of  their  loss  until  the  battle  was  over,  otherwise 
they  would  certainly,  from  despair,  have  been  discomfited. 

I  will  relate  what  befell  the  earl  afterward.  As  soon  as  he 
fell,  his  head  was  cleaved  with  a  battle-axe,  the  spear  thrust 
through  his  thigh,  and  the  main  body  of  the  English  marched 
over  him  without  paying  any  attention,  not  supposing  him  to  be 
their  principal  enemy.  In  another  part  of  the  field,  the  earl  of 
March  and  Dunbar  combated  valiantly;  and  the  English  gave 
the  Scots  full  employment  who  had  followed  the  earl  of  Douglas, 
and  had  engaged  with  the  two  Percies.  The  earl  of  Moray  be- 
haved so  gallantly  in  pursuing  the  English,  that  they  knew  not 
how  to  resist  him.  Of  all  the  battles  that  have  been  described 
in  this  history,  great  and  small,  this  of  which  I  am  now  speaking 
was  the  best  fought  and  the  most  severe ;  for  there  was  not  a 
man,  knight  or  squire,  who  did  not  acquit  himself  gallantly, 
hand  to  hand  with  his  enemy.  It  resembled  something  that  of 
Cocherel,  which  was  as  long  and  as  hardily  disputed.  The  sons 
of  the  earl  of  Northumberland,  sir  Henry  and  sir  Ralph  Percy, 
who  were  the  leaders  of  this  expedition,  behaved  themselves 
like  good  knights  in  the  combat.  Almost  a  similar  accident 
befell  sir  Ralph  as  that  which  happened  to  the  earl  of  Douglas; 
for,  having  advanced  too  far,  he  was  surrounded  by  the  enemy 
and  severely  wounded,  and,  being  out  of  breath,  surrendered 
himself  to  a  Scots  knight,  called  sir  John  Maxwell,  who  was 
under  the  command,  and  of  the  household,  of  the  earl  of  Moray. 


2i8  FROISSART. 

When  made  prisoner,  the  knight  asked  him  who  he  was ;  for 
it  was  dark,  and  he  knew  him  not.  Sir  Ralph  was  so  weakened 
by  loss  of  blood,  which  was  flowing  from  his  wound,  that  he 
could  scarcely  avow  himself  to  be  sir  Ralph  Percy.  "  Well,'' 
replied  the  knight,  "  sir  Ralph,  rescued  or  not,  you  are  my 
prisoner:  my  name  is  Maxwell."  "  I  agree  to  it,"  said  sir  Ralph, 
"but  pay  some  attention  to  me;  for  I  am  so  desperately 
wounded,  that  my  drawers  and  greaves  are  full  of  blood." 
Upon  this,  the  Scots  knight  was  very  attentive  to  him ;  when 
suddenly  hearing  the  cry  of  Moray  hard  by,  and  perceiving  the 
earl's  banner  advancing  to  him,  sir  John  addressed  himself  to 
the  earl  of  Moray,  and  said,  "  My  lord,  I  present  you  with  sir 
Ralph  Percy,  as  a  prisoner ;  but  let  good  care  be  taken  of  him, 
for  he  is  very  badly  wounded."  The  earl  was  much  pleased  at 
this,  and  replied,  "  Maxwell,  thou  hast  well  earned  thy  spurs 
this  day."  He  then  ordered  his  men  to  take  every  care  of  sir 
Ralph,  who  bound  up  and  stanched  his  wounds.  The  battle 
still  continued  to  rage,  and  no  one  could  say  at  that  moment 
which  side  would  be  the  conqueror,  for  there  were  very  many 
captures  and  rescues  that  never  came  to  my  knowledge. 

The  young  earl  of  Douglas  had  this  night  performed  wonders 
in  arms.  When  he  was  struck  down,  there  was  a  great  crowd 
round  him;  and  he  could  not  raise  himself,  for  the  blow  on  his 
head  was  mortal.  His  men  had  followed  him  as  closely  as  they 
were  able;  and  there  came  to  him  his  cousins,  sir  James 
Lindsay,  sir  John  and  sir  Walter  Sinclair,  with  other  knights  and 
squires.  They  found  by  his  side  a  gallant  knight  that  had  con- 
stantly attended  him,  who  was  his  chaplain,  and  had  at  this  time 
exchanged  his  profession  for  that  of  a  valiant  man-at-arms.  The 
whole  night  he  had  followed  the  earl  with  his  battle-axe  in  hand, 
and  had  by  his  exertions  more  than  once  repulsed  the  English. 
This  conduct  gained  the  thanks  of  his  countrymen,  and  turned 
out  to  his  advantage,  for  in  the  same  year  he  was  promoted  to 
the  archdeaconry  and  made  canon  of  Aberdeen.  His  name  was 
sir  William  of  North  Berwick.  To  say  the  truth,  he  was  well 
formed  in  all  his  limbs  to  shine  in  battle,  and  was  severely 
wounded  at  this  combat.     When  these  knights  came  to  the  earl 


FROISSART.  219 

of  Douglas,  they  found  him  in  a  melancholy  state,  as  well  as  one 
of  his  knights,  sir  Robert  Hart,  who  had  fought  by  his  side  the 
whole  of  the  night,  and  now  lay  beside  him,  covered  with  fifteen 
wounds  from  lances  and  other  weapons. 

Sir  John  Sinclair  asked  the  earl,  "  Cousin,  how  fares  it  with 
you?"  "But  so  so,"  replied  he.  "Thanks  to  God,  there  are 
but  few  of  my  ancestors  who  have  died  in  chambers  or  in  their 
beds.  I  bid  you,  therefore,  revenge  my  death,  for  I  have  but 
little  hope  of  living,  as  my  heart  becomes  every  minute  more 
faint.  Do  you,  Walter  and  sir  John  Sinclair,  raise  up  my  banner, 
for  certainly  it  is  on  the  ground,  from  the  death  of  David  Camp- 
bell, that  valiant  squire,  who  bore  it,  and  who  refused  knighthood 
from  my  hands  this  day,  though  he  was  equal  to  the  most 
eminent  knights  for  courage  or  loyalty;  and  continue  to  shout 
'  Douglas  1'  but  do  not  tell  friend  or  foe  whether  I  am  in  your 
company  or  not ;  for,  should  the  enemy  know  the  truth,  they  will 
be  greatly  rejoiced."  The  two  brothers  Sinclair,  and  sir  John 
Lindsay,  obeyed  his  orders.  The  banner  was  raised  and 
"  Douglas  ! "  shouted.  Their  men,  who  had  remained  behind, 
hearing  the  shouts  of  "  Douglas  !  "  so  often  repeated,  ascended 
a  small  eminence,  and  pushed  their  lances  with  such  courage, 
that  the  English  were  repulsed,  and  many  killed  or  struck  to  the 
ground.  The  Scots,  by  thus  valiantly  driving  the  enemy  beyond 
the  spot  where  the  earl  of  Douglas  lay  dead,  for  he  had  expired 
on  giving  his  last  orders,  arrived  at  his  banner,  w^hich  was  borne 
by  sir  John  Sinclair.  Numbers  were  continually  increasing, 
from  the  repeated  shouts  of  "  Douglas  ! "  and  the  greater  part 
of  the  Scots  knights  and  squires  were  now  there.  The  earls  of 
Moray  and  March,  wuth  their  banners  and  men,  came  thither 
also.  When  they  were  all  thus  collected,  perceiving  the  English 
retreat,  they  renewed  the  battle  with  greater  vigour  than 
before. 

To  say  the  truth,  the  English  had  harder  work  than  the 
Scots,  for  they  had  come  by  a  forced  march  that  evening  from 
Newcastle-on-Tyne,  which  was  eight  English  leagues  distant, 
to  meet  the  Scots,  by  which  means  the  greater  part  were 
exceedingly  fatigued  before  the  combat  began.     The  Scots,  on 


220  FROISSART. 

the  contrary,  had  reposed  themselves,  which  was  to  them  of  the 
utmost  advantage,  as  was  apparent  from  the  event  of  the  battle. 
In  this  last  attack  they  so  completely  repulsed  the  English, 
that  the  latter  could  never  rally  again,  and  the  former  drove 
them  far  beyond  where  the  earl  of  Douglas  lay  on  the  ground. 
Sir  Henry  Percy,  during  this  attack,  had  the  misfortune  to  fall 
into  the  hands  of  the  lord  Montgomery,  a  very  valiant  knight 
of  Scotland.  They  had  long  fought  hand  to  hand  with  much 
valour,  and  without  hindrance  from  any  one ;  for  there  was 
neither  knight  nor  squire  of  either  party  who  did  not  find  there 
his  equal  to  fight  with,  and  all  were  fully  engaged.  In  the  end, 
sir  Henry  was  made  prisoner  by  the  lord  Montgomery. 

You  would  have  seen,  in  this  engagement,  such  knights  and 
squires  as  sir  Malcolm  Drummond,  sir  Thomas  of  Erskine,  sir 
William,  sir  James,  and  sir  Alexander  Lindsay,  the  lord  Saltoun, 
sir  John  Sandilands,  sir  Patrick  Dunbar,  sir  John  and  sir 
Walter  Sinclair,  sir  Patrick  Hepburne  and  his  two  sons,  the 
lord  Montgomery,  sir  John  Maxwell,  sir  Adam  Glendinning,  sir 
WiUiam  Redoue,  sir  William  Stuart,  sir  John  Haliburton,  sir 
John  Lundie,  sir  Robert  Lauder,  sir  Alexander  Ramsay,  sir 
Alexander  Frazer,  sir  John  Edmonstone,  sir  William  Wardlaw, 
David  Fleming,  Robert  Campbell  and  his  two  sons,  John  and 
Robert,  who  were  that  day  knighted,  and  a  hundred  other 
knights  and  squires,  whose  names  I  cannot  remember  ;  but 
there  was  not  one  who  did  not  most  gallantly  perform  his  part 
in  this  engagement. 

On  the  side  of  the  English,  there  were  sir  Ralph  de  Langley, 
sir  Matthew  Redman,  sir  Robert  of  Ogle,  sir  Thomas  Graham, 
sir  Thomas  Haltoun,  sir  John  Felton,  sir  Thomas  Abington, 
sir  John  de  Lilburn,  sir  William  Walsingham,  the  baron  de 
Haltoun,  sir  John  de  Copeland,  seneschal  of  York,  and  many 
more,  who  on  foot  maintained  the  fight  vigorously,  both  before 
and  after  the  capture  of  sir  Henry  Percy.  The  battle  was 
severely  fought  on  each  side;  but,  such  is  the  fickleness  of 
fortune,  that  though  the  English  were  a  more  numerous  body 
of  able  men-at-arms,  and  at  the  first  onset  had  repulsed  the 
Scots,  they  in  the  end  lost  the  field ;  and  all  the  above-named 


i 


FJ^OISSART.  221 

knights,  except  sir  Matthew  Redman,  governor  of  Hcrwick,  were 
made  prisoners.  But  he  seeing  they  were  defeated  without 
hopes  of  recovery,  and  the  English  flying  in  all  direriions,  while 
his  brother-knights  were  surrendering  themselves  to  the  Scots, 
mounted  his  horse,  and  rode  off. 

Just  as  the  defeat  took  place,  and  while  the  combat  was 
continued  in  different  parts,  an  English  squire,  whose  name  was 
'  Thomas  Felton,  and  attached  to  the  household  of  lord  Percy, 
was  surrounded  by  a  body  of  Scots.  ITe  was  a  handsome  man, 
and,  as  he  showed,  valiant  in  arms.  He  had  that  and  the  pre- 
ceding night  been  employed  in  collecting  the  best  arms,  and 
would  neither  surrender  nor  deign  to  fly.  It  was  told  me  that 
he  had  made  a  vow  to  that  purpose,  and  had  declared  at  some 
feast  in  Northumberland  that  at  the  very  first  meeting  of  the 
Scots  and  English  he  would  acquit  himself  so  loyally  that,  for 
having  stood  his  ground,  he  should  be  renowned  as  the  best 
combatant  of  both  parties.  I  also  heard,  for  I  never  saw  him 
that  I  know  of,  that  his  body  and  hmbs  were  of  a  strength 
befitting  a  vigorous  combatant ;  and  he  performed  such  deeds 
of  valour,  when  engaged  with  the  banner  of  the  earl  of  Moray, 
as  astonished  the  Scots,  but  he  was  slain  while  thus  valiantly 
fighting.  They  would  willingly  have  made  him  a  prisoner 
for  his  courage ;  and  several  knights  proposed  it  to  him,  but  in 
vain,  for  he  thought  he  should  be  assisted  by  his  friends.  Thus 
died  Thomas  Felton,  while  engaged  with  a  cousin  of  the  king 
of  Scotland,  called  Simon  Glendinning,  much  lamented  by  his 
party. 

According  to  what  I  heard,  this  battle  was  very  bloody  from 
its  commencement  to  the  defeat:  but  when  the  Scots  saw  the 
English  were  discomfited  and  surrendering  on  all  sides,  they 
behaved  courteously  to  them,  saying,  "  Sit  down  and  disarm 
yourselves,  for  I  am  your  master,"  but  never  insulted  them  more 
than  if  they  had  been  brothers.  The  pursuit  lasted  a  long  time, 
and  to  the  length  of  five  English  miles.  Had  the  Scots  been 
in  sufficient  numbers,  none  w^ould  have  escaped  death  or  cap- 
tivity ;  and  if  sir  Archibald  Douglas,  the  earl  of  Fife,  the  earl 
of  Sutherland,  with  the  division  that  had  marched  for  Carlisle, 


222  FROISSART. 

had  been  there,  they  would  have  taken  the  bishop  of  Durham 
and  the  town  of  Newcastle-on-Tyne,  as  I  shall  explain  to  you. 

The  same  evening  that  sir  Henry  and  sir  Ralph  Percy  had 
left  Newcastle,  the  bishop  of  Durham,  with  the  remainder  of 
the  forces  of  that  district,  had  arrived  there  and  supped. 
While  seated  at  table,  he  considered  that  he  should  not  act 
very  honourably  if  he  remained  in  the  town  while  his  country- 
men had  taken  the  field.  In  consequence,  he  rose  from  table, 
ordered  his  horses  to  be  saddled,  and  his  trumpets  to  sound 
for  those  who  had  horses  to  make  themselves  ready,  and  the 
infantry  to  be  drawn  out  in  array  for  quitting  the  place.  When 
they  had  all  left  it,  they  amounted  to  seven  thousand  men ;  that 
is,  two  thousand  on  horseback  and  five  thousand  on  foot. 
Although  it  was  now  night,  they  took  the  road  toward  Otter- 
bourne  ;  but  they  had  not  advanced  a  league  from  Newcastle 
before  intelligence  was  brought  that  the  English  were  engaged 
with  the  Scots.  On  this,  the  bishop  halted  his  men ;  and 
several  more  joined  them,  out  of  breath  from  the  combat. 
They  were  asked  how  the  affair  went :  they  replied,  "  Badly, 
and  unfortunately:  we  are  defeated,  and  here  are  the  Scots 
close  at  our  heels."  This  second  intelligence,  being  worse  than 
the  first,  gave  the  alarm  to  several,  who  broke  from  their  ranks ; 
and  when,  shortly  after,  crowds  came  to  them  flying  like  men 
defeated,  they  were  panic-struck,  and  so  frightened  with  the  bad 
news,  that  the  bishop  of  Durham  could  not  retain  five  hundred 
of  his  men  together. 

Now,  supposing  a  large  body  had  come  upon  them  and 
followed  them  in  their  flight  (with  the  addition  of  its  being 
night)  to  regain  the  town,  would  not  there  have  been  much 
mischief?  for  those  acquainted  with  arms  imagine  the  alarm 
would  have  been  so  great,  that  the  Scots  would  have  forced  their 
way  into  the  place  with  them.  When  the  bishop  of  Durham, 
who  was  eager  to  reinforce  the  English,  saw  his  own  men  thus 
join  the  runaways  in  their  flight,  he  demanded  from  sir  William 
de  Lussy,  sir  Thomas  Clifford,  and  other  knights  of  his  company, 
what  they  were  now  to  do  .-*  These  knights  could  not,  or  would 
not  advise  him:    for  to  return  without  having  done  anything 


FROISSART.  223 

would  be  dishonourable,  and  to  advance  seemed  attended  with 
danger,  they  therefore  remained  silent;  but  the  lonj^^er  they 
waited,  the  more  their  men  decreased  in  numbers.  The  bishop 
at  length  said,  "  Gentlemen,  everything  considered,  there  is  no 
honour  in  fool-hardiness,  nor  is  it  requisite  that  to  one  misfor- 
tune we  add  another:  we  hear  and  see  that  our  men  are  defeated: 
this  we  cannot  remedy;  for  should  we  attempt  to  reinforce 
them,  we  scarcely  know  whither  we  should  go,  nor  what  num- 
bers the  enemy  consists  of.  We  will  return  this  night  to 
Newcastle,  and  to-morrow  reassemble  and  march  to  find  our 
enemies."  They  replied,  "God  assist  us  in  it!"  Upon  this 
they  marched  back  to  Newcastle.  Observe  the  consequences  of 
this  alarm ;  for  had  they  remained  steady  in  a  body,  as  they  had 
left  Newcastle,  and  forced  the  runaways  to  return  with  them,  they 
must  have  defeated  the  Scots,  which  was  the  opinion  of  many. 
But  it  was  not  to  be  so,  and  the  Scots  remained  victorious. 

I  will  say  something  of  sir  Matthew  Redman,  who  had 
mounted  his  horse  to  escape  from  the  battle,  as  he  alone  could 
not  recover  the  day.  On  his  departure,  he  was  noticed  by  sir 
James  Lindsay,  a  valiant  Scots  knight,  who  was  near  him,  and, 
through  courage  and  the  hope  of  gain,  was  desirous  of  pursuing 
him.  His  horse  was  ready,  and  leaping  on  him  \vith  his  battle- 
axe  hung  at  his  neck,  and  spear  in  hand,  galloped  after  him, 
leaving  his  men  and  the  battle,  and  came  so  close  to  him,  that 
he  might,  had  he  chosen,  have  hit  him  with  his  lance;  but  he 
said,  "  Ha,  sir  knight,  turn  about :  it  is  disgraceful  thus  to  fly : 
I  am  James  Lindsay;  and,  if  you  do  not  turn,  I  will  drive  my 
spear  into  your  back."  Sir  Matthew  made  no  reply,  but  stuck 
spurs  harder  into  his  horse  than  before.  In  this  state  did  the 
chase  last  for  three  miles,  when  sir  Matthew's  horse  stumbling 
under  him,  he  leaped  off,  drew  his  sword  from  the  scabbard,  and 
put  himself  in  a  posture  of  defence.  The  Scots  knight  made 
a  thrust  at  him  with  his  lance,  thinking  to  strike  him  on  the 
breast;  but  sir  Matthew,  by  writhing  his  body,  escaped  the 
blow,  and  the  point  of  the  lance  was  buried  in  the  ground,  and 
there  remained  fixed.  Sir  Matthew  now  stepped  forward,  and 
with  his  sword  cut  the  spear  in  two. 


224  FROISSART. 

Sir  James  Lindsay,  finding  he  had  lost  his  lance,  flung  the 
shaft  on  the  ground,  and,  dismounting,  grasped  his  battle-axe, 
which  was  slung  across  his  shoulder,  and  handled  it  with  one 
hand  very  dexterously,  for  the  Scots  are  accustomed  thus  to 
use  it,  attacking  the  knight  with  renewed  courage,  who  defended 
himself  with  much  art.  They  pursued  each  other  for  a  long 
time,  one  with  the  battle-axe  and  the  other  with  the  sword,  for 
there  was  no  one  to  prevent  them ;  but,  at  last,  sir  James  laid 
about  him  such  heavy  blows,  that  sir  Matthew  was  quite  out  of 
breath,  which  made  him  surrender;  and  he  said,  "Lindsay, 
I  yield  myself  to  you."  "Indeed!"  replied  the  Scots  knight, 
"  rescued  or  not."  "  I  consent,"  said  sir  Matthew :  "  you  will 
take  good  care  of  me."  "  That  I  will,"  answered  sir  James, 
Sir  Matthew  on  this  put  his  sword  in  the  scabbard,  and  said, 
"  Now,  what  do  you  require  of  me,  for  I  am  your  prisoner  by  fair 
conquest?"  "  And  what  is  it  you  would  wish  me  to  do  ? "  replied 
sir  James.  "I  should  like,"  answered  sir  Matthew,  "to  return 
to  Newcastle ;  and,  within  fifteen  days,  I  will  come  to  you  in  any 
part  of  Scotland  you  shall  appoint."  "  I  agree,"  said  sir  James, 
"on  your  pledging  yourself,  that  within  three  weeks  you  be  in 
Edinburgh  ;  and  wherever  you  may  go,  you  acknowledge  your- 
self as  my  prisoner."  Sir  Matthew  having  sworn  to  observe 
these  conditions,  each  sought  his  horse,  that  was  pasturing 
hard  by,  and,  having  mounted,  took  leave  and  departed,  sir 
James  by  the  way  he  had  come,  to  join  his  countrymen,  and  sir 
Matthew  to  Newcastle. 

Sir  James,  from  the  darkness  of  the  night,  as  the  moon  did 
not  shine  very  clear,  mistook  his  road,  and  had  not  advanced 
half  a  league  before  he  fell  in  with  the  bishop  of  Durham  and 
more  than  five  hundred  English:  he  might  have  escaped  this 
danger  had  he  chosen  it,  but  he  thought  they  were  his  friends 
in  pursuit  of  the  enemy.  When  in  the  midst  of  them,  those 
nearest  asked  who  he  was.  He  replied,  "  I  am  sir  James 
Lindsay."  Upon  this,  the  bishop,  who  was  within  hearing, 
pushed  forward  and  said,  "  Lindsay,  you  are  taken  :  surrender 
yourself  to  me."  "And  who  are  you?"  said  Lindsay.  "lam 
the  bishop  of  Durham."     "And  where  do  you  come  from?" 


PROISSART.  225 

added  Lindsay.  "  By  my  faith,  friend,  I  intended  being  at  the 
battle,  but  unfortunately  was  too  late;  and  in  despair  I  am 
returning  to  Newcastle,  whither  you  will  accompany  me."  "  If 
you  insist  on  it  I  must  comply,"  answered  sir  James ;  "  but  I  have 
made  a  prisoner,  and  am  now  one  myself:  such  is  the  chance 
of  war."  "  Whom  have  you  taken  t  "  asked  the  bishop.  "  I 
have  captured  and  ransomed,  after  a  long  pursuit,  sir  Matthew 
Redman."  "And  where  is  he?"  said  the  bishop.  "On  my 
faith,"  replied  sir  James,  "  he  is  returned  to  Newcastle :  he 
entreated  I  would  allow  him  three  weeks'  liberty,  which  I  com- 
plied with."  "Well,  well,"  said  the  bishop,  "let  us  go  on  to 
Newcastle,  where  you  shall  converse  with  him."  Thus  they 
returned  to  Newcastle,  sir  James  Lindsay  as  prisoner  to  the 
bishop  of  Durham.  Under  the  banner  of  the  earl  of  March,  a 
squire  of  Gascony,  John  de  Chateauneuf,  was  made  prisoner,  as 
was  his  companion,  John  de  Cautiron,  under  the  banner  of  the 
earl  of  Moray. 

Before  the  dawn  of  day,  the  field  was  clear  of  combatants. 
The  Scots  had  retired  within  their  camp,  and  had  sent  scouts 
and  parties  of  light  horse  towards  Newcastle  and  on  the  adja- 
cent roads,  to  observe  whether  the  English  were  collecting  in 
any  large  bodies,  that  they  might  not  a  second  time  be  surprised. 
This  was  wisely  done:  for  when  the  bishop  of  Durham  was 
returned  to  Newcastle,  and  had  disarmed  himself  at  his  lodgings, 
he  was  very  melancholy  at  the  unfortunate  news  he  had  heard 
that  his  cousins,  the  sons  of  the  earl  of  Northumberland,  and  all 
the  knights  who  had  followed  them,  were  either  taken  or  slain. 
He  sent  for  all  knights  and  squires  at  the  time  in  Newcastle,  and 
demanded  if  they  would  suffer  things  to  remain  in  their  present 
state,  for  that  they  would  be  disgraced  should  they  return  with- 
out ever  seeing  their  enemies.  They  held  a  council,  and 
determined  to  arm  themselves  by  sunrise,  and  to  march  horse 
and  foot  after  the  Scots  to  Otterbourne  and  offer  them  battle. 
This  resolution  was  published  throughout  the  town,  and  the 
trumpets  sounded  at  the  appointed  hour. 

The  whole  army  made  themselves  ready,  and  were  drawn  up 
before  the  bridge.     About  sunrise  they  left  Newcastle,  through 

15 


336  FROISSART. 

the  gate  leading  to  Berwick,  and  followed  the  road  to  Otter- 
bourne.  They  amounted  in  the  whole,  including  horse  and  foot, 
to  ten  thousand  men.  They  had  not  advanced  two  leagues 
before  it  was  signified  to  the  Scots  that  the  bishop  of  Durham 
had  rallied  his  troops  and  was  on  his  march  to  give  them  battle. 
This  was  likewise  confirmed  by  their  scouts,  who  brought  the 
same  intelligence. 

Sir  Matthew  Redman,  on  his  return  to  Newcastle,  told  the 
event  of  the  battle,  and  of  his  being  made  prisoner  by  sir  James 
Lindsay,  and  learnt,  to  his  surprise,  from  the  bishop,  or  from 
some  of  his  people,  that  sir  James  had  in  his  turn  been  taken 
by  the  bishop.  As  soon,  therefore,  as  the  bishop  had  quitted 
Newcastle,  sir  Matthew  went  to  his  lodgings  in  search  of  his 
master,  whom  he  found  very  melancholy,  looking  out  of  a 
window.  "What  has  brought  you  here,  sir  James.'"'  was  the 
first  salute  of  sir  Matthew.  Sir  James,  interrupting  his  melan- 
choly thoughts,  advanced  to  meet  him,  bade  him  good-day,  and 
replied,  "  By  my  faith,  Redman,  ill  luck ;  for  1  had  no  sooner 
parted  with  you,  and  was  returning  home,  than  I  fell  in  with 
the  bishop  of  Durham,  to  whom  I  am  prisoner,  in  like  manner 
as  you  are  to  me.  I  believe  there  will  be  no  need  of  your 
coming  to  Edinburgh  to  obtain  your  ransom,  for  we  may  finish 
the  business  here  if  my  master  consent  to  it."  "  We  shall  soon 
agree  as  to  that,"  replied  Redman ;  "  but  you  must  come  and 
dine  with  me  ;  for  the  bishop  and  his  men  have  marched  to 
attack  your  countrymen.  I  know  not  what  success  they  will 
have,  nor  shall  we  be  informed  till  their  return."  "  I  accept 
your  invitation,"  answered  Lindsay.  In  such  manner  did  these 
two  enjoy  each  other's  company  in  Newcastle. 

The  barons  and  knights  of  Scotland,  on  being  informed  of  the 
bishop  of  Durham's  approach  with  ten  thousand  men,  held  a 
council,  whether  to  march  away  or  to  abide  the  event.  On 
mature  consideration  they  resolved  on  the  latter,  from  the 
difficulty  of  finding  so  strong  a  position  to  defend  themselves 
and  guard  their  prisoners,  of  whom  they  had  many.  Tiiese 
they  could  not  carry  away  with  them,  on  account  of  the 
wounded,  nor  were  they  willing  to  leave  them  behind.     They 


FROISSART.  227 

formed  themselves  in  a  strong  body,  and  had  fortified  their 
camp  in  such  a  manner  that  it  could  be  entered  by  only  one 
pass.  They  then  made  their  prisoners  swear,  that  rescued 
or  not  they  would  acknowledge  themselves  prisoners.  When 
this  was  all  done,  they  ordered  their  minstrels  to  play  as  merrily 
as  they  could.  The  Scots  have  a  custom,  when  assembled  in 
arms,  for  those  who  are  on  foot  to  be  well  dressed,  each  having 
a  large  horn  slung  round  his  neck,  in  the  manner  of  hunters, 
and  when  they  blow  all  together,  the  horns  being  of  different 
sizes,  the  noise  is  so  great  it  may  be  heard  four  miles  off,  to  the 
great  dismay  of  their  enemies  and  their  own  delight.  The  Scots 
commanders  ordered  this  sort  of  music  now  to  be  played. 

The  bishop  of  Durham  with  his  banner,  imder  which  were  at 
least  ten  thousand  men,  had  scarcely  approached  within  a 
league  of  the  Scots,  when  they  began  to  play  such  a  concert, 
that  it  seemed  as  if  all  the  devils  in  hell  had  come  thither  to  join 
in  the  noise,  so  that  those  of  the  English  who  had  never  before 
heard  such  were  much  frightened.  This  concert  lasted  a  con- 
siderable time,  and  then  ceased.  After  a  pause,  when  they 
thought  the  English  were  within  half  a  league,  they  recom- 
menced it,  continuing  as  long  as  before,  when  it  again  ceased. 
The  bishop,  however,  kept  advancing  with  his  men  in  battle- 
array  until  they  came  within  sight  of  the  enemy,  two  bow-shots 
off:  the  Scots  then  began  to  play  louder  than  before,  and  for  a 
longer  time,  during  which  the  bishop  examined  with  surprise 
how  well  they  had  chosen  their  encampment,  and  strengthened 
it  to  their  advantage.  Some  knights  held  a  council  how  they 
should  act,  and  it  seemed  that,  after  much  deliberation,  they 
thought  it  not  advisable  to  risk  an  attack,  for  there  were  greater 
chances  of  loss  than  gain,  but  determined  to  return  again  to 
Newcastle. 

The  Scots,  perceiving  the  English  were  retreating,  and  that 
there  was  no  appearance  of  any  battle,  retired  within  their  camp 
to  refresh  themselves  with  meat  and  liquor.  They  then  made 
preparations  for  departure  :  but  because  sir  Ralph  Percy  had 
been  dangerously  wounded,  he  begged  of  his  master  to  allow 
him  to  return  to  Newcastle,  or  wherever  else  in  Northumberland 


228  FROISSART, 

he  might  have  his  wounds  better  attended  to,  and  remain  there 
until  cured  ;  and  in  case  this  favour  was  granted  him,  as  soon 
as  he  should  be  able  to  mount  a  horse,  he  pledged  to  surrender 
himself  at  Edinburgh,  or  in  any  other  part  of  Scotland.  The 
earl  of  Moray,  under  whose  banner  he  was  taken,  readily 
assented  to  this  request,  and  had  a  litter  prepared  for  him.  In 
a  similar  manner,  several  knights  and  squires  obtained  their  j 
liberty,  fixing  on  a  time  to  return  in  person  to  those  who  had 
captured  them,  or  to  send  the  amount  of  their  ransoms. 

I  was  told  by  those  who  were  of  the  victorious  party,  that  at 
this  battle,  which  was  fought  in  the  year  of  grace  1388,  between 
Newcastle  and  Otterbourne,  on  the  19th  day  of  August,  there 
were  taken  or  left  dead  on  the  field,  on  the  side  of  the  English, 
one  thousand  and  forty  men  of  all  descriptions  ;  in  the  pursuit 
eight  hundred  and  forty,  and  more  than  one  thousand  wounded. 
Of  the  Scots  there  were  only  about  one  hundred  slain,  and  two 
hundred  made  prisoners.  As  the  English  were  flying,  they  at 
times  rallied,  and  returned  to  combat  those  who  were  pursuing 
them,  whenever  they  thought  they  had  a  favourable  opportunity, 
and  it  was  thus  their  loss  was  so  considerable  in  the  pursuit. 
You  may  judge,  from  the  number  of  killed  and  prisoners  on  each 
side,  if  this  battle  was  not  hardily  fought. 

When  everything  had  been  arranged,  and  the  dead  bodies  of 
the  earl  of  Douglas,  sir  Robert  Hart,  and  sir  Simon  Glendinning 
were  enclosed  within  coffins,  and  placed  on  cars,  they  began 
their  march,  carrying  with  them  sir  Henry  Percy  and  upwards 
of  forty  English  knights.  They  took  the  road  to  Melrose  on  the 
Tweed,  and  on  their  departure  they  set  fire  to  their  huts.  They 
lodged  this  night  in  England  without  any  opposition,  and  on 
the  morrow  decamped  very  early  and  arrived  at  Melrose,  which 
is  an  abbey  of  black  monks,  situated  on  the  borders  of  the  two 
kingdoms.  They  there  halted,  and  gave  directions  to  the  friars 
for  the  burial  of  the  earl  of  Douglas,  whose  obsequies  were  very 
reverently  performed  on  the  second  day  after  their  arrival.  His 
body  was  placed  in  a  tomb  of  stone,  with  the  banner  of  Douglas 
suspended  over  it.  Of  this  earl  of  Douglas,  God  save  his  soul ! 
there  was  no  issue,  nor  do  I  know  who  succeeded  to  the  estate 


FROISSART.  239 

of  Douglas  ;  for  when  I,  the  author  of  this  history,  was  in 
Scotland,  at  his  castle  of  Dalkeith,  during  the  lifetime  of  earl 
William,  there  were  only  two  children,  a  boy  and  a  girl.  There 
were  enow  of  the  name  of  Douglas ;  for  I  knew  five  handsome 
brothers,  squires,  of  this  name,  at  the  court  of  king  David  of  Scot- 
land, who  were  the  children  of  a  knight  called  sir  James  Douglas. 
The  earl's  arms,  of  three  oreilles  gules  on  a  field  or,  descended 
to  them  ;  but  I  am  ignorant  to  whom  fell  the  land.  You  must 
know  that  the  sir  Archibald  Douglas,  whom  I  have  often 
mentioned  as  a  gallant  knight,  and  one  much  feared  by  the 
English,  was  a  bastard. 

When  they  had  finished  the  business  which  had  brought 
them  to  Melrose,  they  departed,  each  to  his  own  country;  and 
those  who  had  prisoners  carried  them  with  them,  or  ransomed 
them  before  they  left  Melrose.  In  this  matter  the  English 
found  the  Scots  very  courteous  and  accommodating,  which 
pleased  them  much,  as  I  learnt  at  the  castle  of  the  count  de 
Foix  from  John  de  Chateauneuf,  who  had  been  made  prisoner 
under  the  banner  of  the  earl  of  March  and  Dunbar  :  he  praised 
the  earl  exceedingly  for  his  generosity  in  allowing  him  to  fix  his 
ransom  at  his  pleasure.  Thus  did  these  men-at-arms  separate, 
having  very  soon  and  handsomely  settled  the  amount  of  the 
ransoms  for  their  prisoners,  who  by  degrees  returned  to  their 
homes.  It  was  told  me,  and  I  believe  it,  that  the  Scots  gained 
two  hundred  thousand  francs  for  the  ransoms ;  and  that  never 
since  the  battle  of  Bannockburn,  when  the  Bruce,  sir  William 
Douglas,  sir  Robert  de  Versy,  and  sir  Simon  Frazer  pursued 
the  English  for  three  days,  have  they  had  so  complete  nor  so 
gainful  a  victory. 

When  the  news  of  it  was  brought  to  sir  Archibald  Douglas, 
the  earls  of  Fife  and  Sutherland,  before  Carlisle,  where  they 
were  with  the  larger  division  of  the  army,  they  were  greatly 
rejoiced,  but  at  the  same  time  vexed  that  they  had  not  been 
present.  They  held  a  council  and  determined  to  retreat  into 
Scotland,  since  their  companions  had  already  marched  thither. 
In  consequence,  they  broke  up  their  camp  and  re-entered  Scot- 
land. 


230  FROISSART. 


MADNESS   OF  THE    FRENCH    KING,   CHARLES   VI. 

You  must  know,  in  order  perhaps  to  account  truly  for  wliat 
followed,  that  the  king,  during  his  stay  at  Mans,  laboured  hard 
and  assiduously  in  the  council,  where  he  had  but  little  assist- 
ance, and  was  besides  not  perfectly  recovered  in  health.  He  had 
been  the  whole  summer  feeble  in  body  and  mind,  scarcely  eat- 
ing or  drinking  anything,  and  almost  daily  attacked  with  fever, 
to  which  he  was  naturally  inclined,  and  this  was  increased 
by  any  contradiction  or  fatigue.  He  suffered  much  from  the 
insult  offered  his  constable,  so  that  his  physicians  and  uncles 
noticed  that  at  times  his  intellects  were  deranged  ;  but  they  could 
not  do  anything,  for  he  would  not  listen  to  what  they  proposed, 
nor  would  he  consent,  on  any  account,  to  defer  the  expedition 
to  Brittany. 

I  was  told  that  a  strange  accident  happened  to  him  as  he  was 
riding  through  the  forest  of  Mans,  for  which  he  ought  to  have 
assembled  his  council,  instead  of  pursuing  his  march  farther. 
A  man,  bareheaded,  with  naked  feet,  clothed  in  a  jerkin  of  white 
russet,  that  showed  he  was  more  mad  than  otherwise,  rushed 
out  from  among  the  trees,  and  boldly  seized  the  reins  of  the 
king's  horse.  Having  thus  stopped  him,  he  said,  "  King,  ride  no 
farther,  but  return,  for  thou  art  betrayed."  This  speech  made 
such  an  impression  on  the  king's  mind,  which  was  weak,  that 
his  understanding  was  shaken.  As  the  man  finished  his  speech, 
the  men-at-arms  advanced  and  beat  him  soundly  on  his  hands, 
which  made  him  drop  the  reins.  They  suffered  him  to  run  off, 
without  paying  attention  to  what  he  had  said,  thinking  he  was 
some  madman,  for  which  they  were  by  many  afterwards  greatly 
blamed  and  disgraced  :  they  ought  at  least  to  have  arrested  him, 
to  have  examined  if  he  were  really  mad,  and  to  learn  why  he  had 
uttered  such  words,  and  whence  he  had  come.  Nothing,  how- 
ever, was  done,  and  he  made  off  by  their  rear,  and  was  never 
afterwards  seen  by  any  who  had  the  least  knowledge  of  him. 
Those  who  were  near  the  king's  person  heard  very  plainly  the 
words  he  had  spoken. 


FROISSART.  231 

The  king  and  his  army  passed  on  ;  and  it  miglit  be  about 
twelve  o'clock  when  they  were  clear  of  the  forest.  They  now 
entered  an  extensive  sandy  plain ;  and  the  sun  was  so  resplen- 
dent, and  in  such  force,  that  scarcely  any  could  endure  the  heat : 
the  horses,  consequently,  sutTered  much.  There  were  none  so 
used  to  arms  as  not  to  complain  of  the  oppressive  heat ;  and  the 
lords  took  ditiferent  routes,  apart  from  each  other.  The  king 
rode  by  himself,  to  have  less  dust ;  and  the  dukes  of  Berry  and 
Burgundy,  conversing  together,  kept  on  his  left  hand,  at  about 
two  acres  distance  from  him.  The  other  lords,  such  as  the 
count  de  la  Marche,  sir  James  de  Bourbon,  sir  Charles  d'Albret, 
sir  Philip  d'Artois,  sir  Henry  and  sir  Philip  de  Bar,  sir  Peter  de 
Navarre,  rode  in  different  paths.  The  duke  of  Bourbon,  the 
lord  de  Coucy,  sir  Charles  d'Angers,  the  baron  dTvry,  were 
following  at  a  gentle  pace,  talking  together,  and  some  distance 
from  the  king,  not  suspecting  the  misfortune  which  was  on  the 
point  of  befalling  him.  It  was  manifestly  the  work  of  God, 
whose  punishments  are  severe,  to  make  his  creatures  tremble. 
Have  we  not  seen  many  similar  examples,  both  in  the  Old  and 
the  New  Testament,  especially  in  the  instance  of  Nebuchad- 
nezzar, king  of  the  Assyrians  ?  He  reigned  over  them  with 
such  power,  that  nothing  was  spoken  of  but  his  magnificence 
and  glory;  when  suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  his  pomp,  the  Lord 
of  kings,  God,  the  Master  of  heaven  and  earth,  and  Creator  of 
all  things,  struck  him  in  such  wise  that  he  lost  his  senses  and 
his  kingdom.  He  continued  for  seven  years  in  this  deplorable 
state,  living  on  acorns  and  wild  fruits,  having  the  taste  of  a  wild 
boar  or  hog.  After  this  period  of  penitence,  God  restored  to 
him  his  senses  and  memory;  upon  which  he  declared  to  Daniel, 
the  servant  of  the  Lord,  that  there  was  none  other  god  but  the 
God  of  Israel.  To  speak  truly,  God  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  « 
the  Holy  Ghost,  three  in  name,  but  one  in  substance,  was,  is, 
and  ever  will  be,  of  a  sufficient  power  to  declare  his  works  as 
from  the  beginning,  and  one  ought  not,  therefore,  to  be  surprised 
at  whatever  wonderful  things  happen. 

The  reason  why  I  thus  speak  is,  that  a  great  influence  from 
heaven  this  day  fell  on  the  king  of  France,  and,  as  some  say, 


up  FROISSART. 

from  his  own  fault.  The  physicians  of  his  body,  who  ought  to 
have  known  well  his  constitution,  declared  that,  considering 
the  weak  state  of  his  health,  he  should  not  have  thus  exposed 
himself  to  the  heat  of  the  day,  but  have  rode  in  the  cool  of  the 
mornings  or  evenings.  Those  who  had  advised  otherwise  were 
disgraced ;  but  he  had  been  long  led  by  his  ministers  to  act 
just  as  they  pleased.  The  king  rode  over  this  sandy  plain,  that 
reflected  the  heat,  which  was  much  greater  than  had  been  ever 
before  known  or  felt  in  that  season ;  he  was  besides  dressed  in 
a  jacket  of  black  velvet  that  added  to  the  warmth,  and  had  only 
a  single  hood  of  crimson,  ornamented  with  a  chaplet  of  large 
beautiful  pearls  the  queen  had  presented  to  him  on  his  leaving 
her.  He  was  followed  by  one  of  his  pages,  who  had  a  Mon- 
tauban  cap  of  polished  steel  on  his  head  that  glittered  in  the 
sun,  and  behind  him  another  page  rode  on  horseback,  carrying 
a  vermilion-coloured  lance,  enveloped  w-ith  silk,  for  the  king, 
the  head  of  which  lance  was  broad,  sharp,  and  bright.  The 
lord  de  la  Riviere  had  brought  a  dozen  such  when  he  last  came 
from  Toulouse,  and  this  was  one ;  for  he  had  presented  the 
whole  to  the  king,  who  had  given  three  to  the  duke  of  Orleans, 
and  the  same  number  to  the  duke  of  Burgundy. 

As  they  were  thus  riding,  the  pages,  who  were  but  children, 
grew  negligent  of  themselves  and  their  horses ;  and  the  one 
who  bore  the  lance  fell  asleep,  and,  forgetful  of  what  he  had  in 
his  hand,  let  it  fall  on  the  casque  of  the  page  before  him,  which 
made  both  the  lance  and  casque  ring  loudly.  The  king,  being 
so  near  (the  pages  rode  almost  on  the  heels  of  his  horse),  was 
startled  and  shuddered ;  for  he  had  in  his  mind  the  words  the 
wise  man  or  fool  had  spoken  when  he  seized  his  horse's  reins  in 
the  forest  of  Mans,  and  fancied  a  host  of  enemies  were  come  to 
slay  him.  In  this  distraction  of  mind  he  drew  his  sword  and 
advanced  on  the  pages,  for  his  senses  were  quite  gone,  and 
imagined  himself  surrounded  by  enemies,  giving  blows  of  his 
sword,  indifferent  on  whom  they  fell,  and  bawled  out,  "  Ad- 
vance !  advance  on  these  traitors."  The  pages,  seeing  the  king 
thus  wroth,  took  care  of  themselves,  for  they  imagined  they  had 
angered    him    by  their   negligence,  and    spurred  their  horses 


FROISSART.  233 

different  ways.  The  duke  of  Orleans  was  not  far  distant  from 
the  king,  who  made  up  to  him  with  his  drawn  sword,  for  at  that 
moment  his  frenzy  had  deprived  him  of  the  means  of  knowinj< 
either  his  brother  or  uncles.  The  duke  of  Orleans,  seeing  him 
approach  with  his  naked  sword,  grew  alarmed,  and,  spurring  his 
horse,  made  oft*  and  the  king  after  him.  The  duke  of  Burgundy, 
hearing  the  cries  of  the  pages,  cast  his  eyes  to  that  quarter,  and 
seeing  the  king  pursuing  his  brother  with  his  drawn  sword,  was 
thunderstruck,  and  not  without  reason:  he  cried  out  for  help, 
saying,  "  My  lord  has  lost  his  senses :  for  God's  sake  lay 
hands  on  him :  "  and  then  added,  "  Fly,  fair  nephew  of  Orleans: 
fly,  or  my  lord  will  murder  you."  The  duke  of  Orleans  was 
much  frightened,  and  galloped  as  fast  as  his  horse  could  go, 
followed  by  knights  and  squires.  There  were  now  great  shout- 
ings, insomuch  that  those  at  a  distance  thought  they  were 
hunting  a  wolf  or  hare,  until  they  learnt  it  was  the  king,  who 
was  not  himself. 

The  duke  of  Orleans,  however,  escaped  by  making  several 
turns,  and  was  aided  by  knights,  squires,  and  men-at-arms, 
who  surrounded  the  king,  and  allowed  him  to  waste  his  strength 
on  them ;  for,  of  course,  the  more  he  exerted  himself,  the  weaker 
he  grew.  When  he  made  a  blow  at  any  one  knight  or  squire, 
they  fell  before  the  stroke,  and  I  never  heard  that  in  this  fit  of 
madness  any  one  was  killed.  Several  were  struck  down  by  his 
blows,  because  no  one  made  any  defence.  At  last,  when  he 
was  quite  jaded  and  running  down  with  sweat,  and  his  horse  in 
a  lather  from  fatigue,  a  Norman  knight,  who  was  one  of  his 
chamberlains,  and  much  beloved  by  him,  called  sir  William 
Martel,  came  behind,  and  caught  him  in  his  arms,  though  he 
had  his  sword  still  in  his  hand.  When  he  was  thus  held,  all  the 
other  lords  came  up  and  took  the  sword  from  him  :  he  was 
dismounted,  and  gently  laid  on  the  ground,  that  his  jacket 
might  be  stripped  from  him,  to  give  him  more  air  and  cool  him. 
His  three  uncles  and  brother  approached;  but  he  had  lost  all 
knowledge  of  them,  showing  no  symptoms  of  acquaintance  or 
affection,  but  rolled  his  eyes  round  in  his  head  without  speaking 
to  any  one.     The  princes  of  the  blood  were  in  amazement,  and 


234  FROISSART. 

knew  not  what  to  say  nor  how  to  act.  The  dukes  of  Berry  and 
Burgundy  at  length  said,  "  We  must  return  to  Mans,  for  the 
expedition  is  at  an  end  for  this  season."  They  did  not  then  say 
all  they  thought ;  but  they  made  their  intentions  very  apparent 
to  those  who  were  not  in  their  good  graces  on  their  return  to 
Paris,  as  I  shall  relate  in  the  course  of  this  history.  It  must  be 
owned  that,  when  all  things  are  considered,  it  was  a  great  pity 
for  a  king  of  France,  who  is  the  most  noble  and  powerful  prince 
in  the  world,  to  be  thus  suddenly  deprived  of  his  senses.  There 
could  not  be  any  remedy  applied,  nor  any  amendment  expected, 
since  God  willed  it  should  be  so. 

Having  undressed  and  cooled  him  as  gently  as  they  could, 
they  laid  him  on  a  litter  and  carried  him  slowly  to  Mans.  The 
marshals  instantly  sent  orders  for  the  van  to  return,  and  the 
whole  army  was  informed  there  was  an  end  to  the  expedition. 
To  some  the  reasons  were  told  why  it  was  thus  put  an  end  to, 
to  others  not.  The  evening  the  king  was  brought  back  to 
Mans,  his  physicians  were  much  occupied  with  him,  and  the 
princes  of  his  blood  in  the  utmost  trouble.  The  event  was 
spoken  of  very  differently:  some  said  that  the  king,  to  ruin 
the  kingdom  of  France,  had  been  poisoned,  or  bewitched,  the 
morning  before  he  left  Mans.  These  words  were  so  often 
repeated  that  they  came  to  the  ears  of  the  duke  of  Orleans 
and  others  of  the  blood  royal.  In  conversation  together,  they 
said,  "  Do  you  hear  (for  you  must,  unless  you  shut  your  ears) 
what  murmurings  there  are  against  the  king's  ministers  ?  It  is 
reported,  and  commonly  believed,  that  he  has  been  poisoned  or 
bewitched :  now,  how  can  we  know  whether  this  has  been  done 
or  not?"  Some  made  answer,  "From  his  physicians,  for  they 
must  know  his  habit  and  constitution."  The  physicians  were 
sent  for,  and  most  strictly  examined  by  the  duke  of  Burgundy. 
To  this  examination  they  replied,  "  that  the  king  had,  for  a  long 
time,  been  suffering  under  this  disorder;  and,  knowing  that  this 
weakness  of  intellect  oppressed  him  grievously,  it  would  make 
its  appearance."  The  duke  of  Burgundy  told  the  physicians, 
"  that  in  the  whole  of  the  matter  they  had  honestly  acquitted 
themselves,  but  that  the  king,  from  his  great  anxiety  to  under- 


FROISSART. 

take  this  war,  would  not  listen  to  any  advice  on  the  subject  of 
his  health.  Cursed  be  this  expedition,  and  unhapjiy  is  it  that 
ever  it  was  proposed,  for  it  has  been  his  destruction ;  and  it 
would  have  been  better  that  Clisson  and  his  whole  race  had 
been  murdered,  than  that  the  king  had  been  afflicted  with  such 
a  disorder.  News  of  it  will  be  carried  everywhere,  and,  as  he 
is  now  but  a  young  man,  we  who  are  his  uncles,  and  of  his 
blood,  who  should  have  advised  him,  shall  be  much  blamed, 
though  we  have  been  no  way  in  fault.  Now  tell  us,"  said  the 
duke,  addressing  himself  to  the  physicians,  "  were  you  present 
yesterday  morning  at  his  dinner  before  he  mounted  his  horse.''" 
"Yes,  in  God's  name  were  we,"  said  they.  "And  what  did  he 
eat  and  drink?"  "So  very  little,  that  it  is  scarcely  worth  men- 
tioning; for  he  sat  musing  the  whole  time."  "And  who  was 
the  person  that  last  served  him  with  liquor.?"  asked  the  duke. 
"That  we  know  not,"  said  the  physicians;  "for  as  soon  as  the 
table  was  removed,  we  went  away  to  make  ourselves  ready  for 
riding,  but  you  will  learn  it  from  his  butlers  or  chamberlains." 
Robert  Tulles,  a  squire  from  Normandy,  and  head-butler,  was 
called.  On  his  coming,  he  was  questioned  who  had  served  the 
king  with  wine.  He  replied,  "My  lords,  sir  Robert  de  Lignac." 
The  knight  was  then  sent  for,  and  asked  where  he  had  taken 
the  wine  to  serve  the  king  the  morning  before  he  mounted  his 
horse.  "My  lords,"  said  he,  "here  is  Robert  Tulles  who  gave 
it  me,  and  tasted  it,  as  well  as  myself,  in  the  king's  presence." 
"  That  is  true,"  added  Robert  Tulles ;  "and  in  this  respect  there 
shall  not  be  the  smallest  ground  for  suspicions ;  for  there  is  now 
some  of  the  very  same  in  bottles  to  what  the  king  drank,  which 
we  will  open  and  drink  before  you." 

The  duke  of  Berry  then  said,  "  We  are  debating  here  about 
nothing :  the  king  is  only  poisoned  or  bewitched  by  bad 
advisers,  but  it  is  not  time  at  present  to  talk  of  these  matters. 
Let  us  bear  the  misfortune  as  well  as  we  can  for  the  moment." 

On  the  conclusion  of  the  duke  of  Berry's  speech,  the  lords 
retired  to  their  lodgings  for  the  night;  and  the  king's  uncles 
ordered  four  knights  of  honour  to  sit  up  with  the  king,  to 
attend  him  quietly,  and  administer  to  his  wants.     They  were 


236  FROISSART. 

sir  Reginald  de  Roye,  sir  Reginald  de  Trie,  the  lord  de  Garen- 
cieres,  and  sir  William  Martel.  The  lord  de  la  Riviere,  sir 
John  le  Mercier,  Montague,  the  b^gue  de  Villaines,  sir  William 
des  Bordes,  and  sir  Helion  de  Lignac  were  ordered  not  to 
interfere  in  any  manner  of  business  until  the  king  should  be 
perfectly  recovered.  On  receiving  this  order  they  departed, 
and  others  took  charge  of  the  government.  On  the  morrow 
morning  the  king's  uncles  visited  him:  they  found  him  very 
weak,  and  asked  how  h«  had  slept.  His  chamberlains  replied, 
"Very  little;  he  cannot  rest."  "This  is  sad  news,"  said  the 
duke  of  Burgundy.  All  three  then  approached  him;  and  by 
this  time  the  duke  of  Orleans  arrived,  and  asked  him  how  he 
was.  He  made  no  answer,  but  stared  at  them  without  recol- 
lecting who  they  were.  These  lords  were  much  shocked,  and, 
conversing  together,  said,  "  We  need  not  stay  longer,  for  he  is 
extremely  ill,  and  we  do  him  more  harm  than  good  by  our 
presence.  We  have  ordered  his  chamberlains  and  physicians 
to  take  every  care  of  him,  which  of  course  they  will  do.  Let  us 
consider  how  the  kingdom  is  to  be  governed,  for  a  government 
must  speedily  be  provided,  or  all  things  will  go  ill."  "  Good 
brother,"  said  the  duke  of  Burgundy  to  the  duke  of  Berry,  "  it 
will  be  necessary  for  us  to  go  to  Paris,  and  order  the  king  to  be 
brought  hence  gently;  for  we  can  have  him  better  attended 
when  nearer  to  us  than  here.  We  will  assemble  the  whole 
council  at  Paris,  and  discuss  how  the  kingdom  shall  be 
governed,  and  whether  our  fair  nephew  of  Orleans  be  regent 
or  we."  "  It  is  well  spoken,"  replied  the  duke  of  Berry ;  "  let  us 
consider  of  the  best  place  for  the  king  to  be  removed  to  for  the 
recovery  of  his  health."  After  some  consultation,  it  was  deter- 
mined he  should  be  carried,  with  every  precaution,  to  the  castle 
of  Creil,  which  has  a  good  air,  and  is  in  a  rich  country  on  the 
river  Oise. 

When  this  was  settled,  the  men-at-arms  were  disbanded,  and 
orders  given  by  the  marshals  for  them  to  retire  peaceably  to 
their  homes,  without  committing  any  ravages  on  the  country ; 
and  that,  if  such  excesses  were  indulged  in,  the  leaders  would 
be  called  upon  to  make  reparation.     The  king's  uncles  and  the 


FROISSART.  237 

chancellor  of  France  sent  off  varlets  to  the  different  cities  and 
principal  towns  in  Picardy,  to  order  the  inhabitants  to  be  very 
attentive  in  the  guard  of  them,  for  the  reason  that  the  king  was 
indisposed.  These  orders  were  obeyed.  The  French  nation 
was  dismayed  and  concerned  when  it  was  publicly  known  that 
the  king  laboured  under  a  frenzy.  They  spoke  much  against 
those  who  had  advised  him  to  this  expedition  to  Brittany,  and 
said  he  had  been  betrayed  by  those  who  had  urged  him  on 
against  the  duke  and  sir  Peter  de  Craon.  People's  tongues 
could  not  be  stopped,  for  it  was  so  serious  a  misfortune,  it  was 
necessary  vent  should  be  somehow  given  to  the  vexation  it 
caused. 

The  king  was  carried  to  Creil,  and  put  under  the  care  of  the 
before-named  knights  and  his  physicians.  The  men-at-arms 
were  disbanded,  and  marched  home.  It  was  strictly  forbidden 
the  queen's  household  and  all  others,  under  pain  of  being 
severely  punished,  to  mention  this  misfortune  to  the  queen, 
who  was  far  gone  with  child.  It  was  concealed  from  her  for 
some  time,  during  which  the  king  was  under  the  care  of  the 
knights  at  Creil,  and  his  physicians,  who  were  giving  him 
various  medicines,  which,  however,  did  him  little  good.  At 
this  time  there  was  a  most  learned  physician  m  France,  who 
had  not  his  equal  anywhere,  a  friend  of  the  lord  de  Coucy,  and 
born  on  his  lands.  His  name  was  master  William  de  Harseley: 
he  had  fixed  his  residence  in  the  city  of  Laon,  which  he  pre- 
ferred to  any  other.  On  first  hearing  of  the  king's  illness  and 
the  cause  of  it,  knowing,  as  he  thought,  the  king's  constitution, 
he  said,  "  This  disorder  of  the  king  proceeds  from  the  alarm  in 
the  forest,  and  by  inheriting  too  much  of  his  mother's  weak 
nerves."  These  words  were  carried  to  the  lord  de  Coucy,  at 
that  time  in  Paris  with  the  duke  of  Orleans  and  the  king's 
uncles.  The  whole  of  the  council,  and  the  principal  barons  and 
prelates  of  the  realm,  were  there  assembled,  to  consult  on  the 
government  of  the  kingdom  during  the  king's  illness,  and  until 
he  should  be  perfectly  restored  ;  and  whether  the  duke  of 
Orleans,  or  his  uncles,  or  all  three,  should  have  the  regency. 
They  were  upwards  of  fifteen  days  before  they  could  agree :  at 


238  FROISSART. 

last  it  was  thought  advisable,  from  the  youth  of  the  duke  of 
Orleans,  which  made  him  unfit  to  bear  so  great  a  weight,  that 
the  two  uncles  of  the  king  should  govern  the  kingdom;  but 
that  the  duke  of  Burgundy  should  be  the  principal ;  and  that 
the  duchess  of  Burgundy  should  remain  with  the  queen,  and  be 
respected  as  second  to  her  in  rank. 

The  lord  de  Coucy  was  not  unmindful  of  what  he  had  heard 
of  master  William  de  Harseley.  He  spoke  of  him  to  the  king's 
uncles,  and  mentioned  his  learning  and  success,  and  that  it 
would  be  proper  he  should  try  his  skill  to  recover  the  king. 
The  dukes  of  Berry  and  Burgundy  listened  to  it,  and  sent  for 
him.  On  his  arrival  at  Paris,  he  first  waited  on  the  lord  de 
Coucy,  with  whom  he  was  very  intimate,  and  he  introduced 
him  to  the  king's  uncles,  saying,  "Here  is  master  William 
de  Harseley,  of  whom  I  spoke  to  you."  The  two  dukes  received 
him  kindly,  and  made  him  welcome.  They  then  ordered  him 
to  visit  the  king  at  Creil,  and  remain  with  him  until  he  should 
have  restored  him  to  health.  Master  William,  in  consequence 
of  these  orders  from  the  dukes,  set  out  from  Paris  in  good 
array,  as  was  becoming  him,  and  arrived  at  Creil,  where  he 
established  himself  near  the  king's  person,  and  took  the  lead 
over  the  other  physicians,  undertaking  to  make  a  cure;  for 
he  saw  it  was  to  be  done,  since  the  disorder  was  caused  by 
weakness  of  nerves,  from  the  sudden  alarm  of  the  appearance 
of  the  madman,  and  then  by  the  noise  from  the  blow  on  the 
page's  helmet ;  and  he  was  very  anxious  to  restore  the  king  to 
health. 

News  of  the  king  of  France's  illness  was  carried  far  and  near, 
and,  however  others  may  have  been  grieved  at  it,  you  may 
suppose  that  the  duke  of  Brittany  and  sir  Peter  de  Craon 
were  not  much  affected:  they  soon  dried  their  tears,  for  he 
was  pursuing  them  with  bitter  hatred.  Pope  Boniface  and 
his  cardinals  at  Rome  were  rejoiced  on  hearing  it.  They 
assembled  in  full  consistory,  and  said  the  worst  of  their 
enemies,  meaning  the  king  of  France,  was  severely  chastised, 
when  God  had  thus  deprived  him  of  his  senses;  and  that 
this  punishment  had  been  inflicted  by  Heaven,  for  having  so 


FROISSART.  339 

strenuously  supported  the  anti-pope  of  Avignon ;  that  this 
chastisement  should  make  him  attend  more  to  his  own  king- 
dom, and  that  their  cause  would  now  be  better. 

The  pope  and  cardinals  at  Avignon,  considering  the  great 
support  the  king  had  given  them,  had  cause  for  alarm ;  but 
they  showed  none  for  the  honour  of  the  king  and  realm.  They 
said  among  themselves,  that  the  king  was  young  and  wilful, 
and  had,  by  his  own  fault,  brought  on  him  this  disorder;  that 
those  about  his  person  had  allowed  him  to  act  too  much  as 
he  pleased;  and  that  he  had  exerted  himself  in  different 
excesses,  and  by  riding  post  night  and  day,  and  had  laboured 
unreasonably,  in  mind  and  body,  on  matters  that  should  have 
been  done  by  his  ministers  and  not  by  himself;  and  that,  if  he 
had  been  properly  and  soberly  educated  by  the  advice  of  his 
uncles,  this  unfortunate  illness  would  never  have  happened. 
They  added  that,  "  when  he  was  on  his  journey  to  Languedoc, 
he  had  promised,  on  the  word  of  a  king,  and  swore  likewise  on 
his  faith,  that  he  would  raise  a  sufficient  force  to  destroy  the 
anti-pope  and  his  cardinals  at  Rome,  and  put  an  end  to  the 
schism  and  troubles  of  the  church ;  but  he  had  done  nothing, 
and  thus  forfeited  his  oath  and  promise,  by  which  he  has 
angered  God,  who,  to  correct  him,  punishes  him  with  this 
rod  of  frenzy.  It  therefore  behoves  us,  when  he  shall  have 
recovered  his  health,  which  may  soon  happen,  to  send  properly 
instructed  legates  to  remonstrate  with  him  on  this  breach  of 
promise,  in  order  that,  through  our  neglect,  he  may  not  be 
forgetful  of  it."  Such  was  the  language  at  Avignon  between 
the  pope  and  cardinals,  who  agreed  that  this  disorder  had  been 
incurred  by  his  own  negligence  and  fault;  but  they  greatly 
blamed  those  of  his  council  and  household  for  not  having 
better  attended  to  him.  Many  others  in  France  did  the 
same. 

In  a  church  at  Haspres,  in  Hainault,  dependent  on  the 
abbey  of  Saint  Vast  at  Arras,  lies  the  canonised  body  of  Saint 
Aquaire,  in  a  rich  shrine  of  silver.  This  saint  is  celebrated  for 
the  cures  he  has  performed  on  those  afflicted  with  madness, 
and  on  that  account  is  much  visited  from  all  parts.     To  pay 


240  FROISSART. 

due  respect  to  the  saint,  there  was  made  a  figure  of  wax 
resembling  the  king,  which  was  sent  thither  with  a  large  wax 
taper,  and  offered,  with  much  devotion,  to  the  shrine  of  the 
saint,  that  he  might  pray  to  God  to  alleviate  this  cruel  afifiiction 
of  the  king.  A  similar  offering  was  made  to  Saint  Hermier  in 
Rouais,  who  has  the  reputatian  of  curing  madness,  and  wherever 
there  were  saints  that  were  supposed  to  have  efficacy,  by  their 
prayers  to  God,  in  such  disorders,  thither  were  sent  offerings 
from  the  king,  with  much  ceremony  and  devotion. 

When  this  event  was  known  in  England,  the  king  and 
lords  were  greatly  concerned  thereat.  The  duke  of  Lancaster 
especially  testified  his  sorrow,  and  said  to  the  knights  near  his 
person,  "  On  my  faith,  it  is  a  great  pity,  for  he  showed  himself 
a  man  of  courage,  with  strong  inclinations  to  do  good.  When 
I  took  leave  of  him  at  Amiens,  he  said,  '  Fair  cousin  of  Lan- 
caster, I  earnestly  entreat  you  will  exert  yourself  to  the  utmost 
of  your  power  that  there  may  be  a  solid  peace  between  the 
king  of  England  your  nephew  and  myself,  and  between  our 
kingdoms:  we  may  then  march  a  powerful  army  against  this 
Amurat,  who  has  conquered  the  kingdom  of  Armenia  from  its 
lawful  monarch,  and  who  intends  to  destroy  all  Christendom, 
that  we  may  exalt  our  faith,  as  we  are  bounden  so  to  do.' 
Now,"  added  the  duke,  "  there  is  an  end  to  this,  for  he  will 
never  again  have  that  confidence  he  before  enjoyed  put  in 
him."  "  That  is  true  enough,"  said  those  who  heard  him,  "  and 
the  kingdom  of  France  seems  likely  to  fall  into  much  trouble." 


FROISSART'S  VISIT  TO  THE  COURT  OF  RICHARD  II. 

In  truth,  I,  sir  John  Froissart,  treasurer  and  canon  of  Chimay, 
in  the  county  of  Hainault,  and  diocese  of  Liege,  had,  during  my 
stay  at  Abbeville,  a  great  desire  to  go  and  see  the  kingdom  of 
England ;  more  especially  since  a  truce  had  been  concluded,  for 
four  years,  on  sea  and  land,  between  France,  England,  and  their 
allies.     Several  reasons  urged  me  to  make  this  journey,  but 


FRO/SSART.  241 

principally  because  in  my  youth  I  had  been  educated  at  the 
court  of  king  Edward,  of  happy  memory,  and  that  good  lady, 
Philippa,  his  queen,  with  their  children,  and  others  of  the 
barons  of  those  times,  and  was  treated  by  them  with  all  honour, 
courtesy,  and  liberality.  I  was  anxious,  therefore,  to  visit  that 
country,  for  it  ran  in  my  imagination  that  if  I  once  again  saw 
it,  I  should  live  the  longer ;  for  twenty-seven  years  past  I  had 
intentions  of  going  thither,  and  if  I  should  not  meet  with  the 
lords  whom  I  had  left  there,  I  should  at  least  see  their  heirs, 
who  would  likewise  be  of  great  service  to  me  in  the  verification 
of  the  many  histories  I  have  related  of  them. 

I  mentioned  my  purpose  to  my  very  dear  patrons,  the  lord 
duke  Albert  of  Bavaria,  count  of  Hainault,  Holland,  and  Zea- 
land, and  lord  of  Frizeland  ;  to  the  lord  William  his  son,  styled 
count  d'Ostrevant;  to  my  dear  and  much  honoured  lady  Joan, 
duchess  of  Brabant  and  Luxembourg ;  and  to  my  very  much 
respected  lord  Enguerrand,  lord  of  Coucy;  as  well  as  to  that 
gallant  knight,  the  lord  de  Gomegines.  We  had  both,  during 
our  youth,  arrived  together  at  the  English  court,  where  I  saw 
also  the  lord  de  Coucy,  and  all  the  nobles  of  France,  who  were 
hostages  for  the  redemption  of  king  John  of  France,  which 
has  been  before  related  in  this  history.  The  three  lords  above 
mentioned,  as  well  as  the  lord  de  Gomegines,  and  madame  de 
Brabant,  on  my  telling  them  my  intentions,  encouraged  me  to 
persevere,  and  they  all  gave  me  letters  of  introduction  to  the 
king  and  his  uncles,  with  the  reserve  of  the  lord  de  Coucy,  who, 
from  being  now  so  much  attached  to  France,  could  only  write 
to  his  daughter,  the  duchess  of  Ireland. 

I  had  taken  care  to  form  a  collection  of  all  the  poetry  on  love 
and  morality  that  I  had  composed  during  the  last  twenty-four 
years,  which  I  had  caused  to  be  fairly  written  and  illuminated. 
I  was  also  incited  to  go  to  England  and  see  king  Richard,  son 
to  the  noble  and  valiant  prince  of  Wales  and  Aquitaine,  whom  I 
had  not  seen  since  the  time  of  his  christening  in  the  cathedral 
church  of  Bordeaux.  I  was  then  present,  and  had  intentions  of 
accompanying  the  prince  of  Wales  in  his  expedition  to  Spain ; 
but,  when  we  came  to  the  city  of  Dax,  the  prince  sent  me  back 

16 


2  42  FROISSART. 

to  the  queen  his  mother  in  England,  1  was  desirous,  therefore, 
to  pay  my  respects  to  the  king  of  England  and  his  uncles,  and 
had  provided  myself  with  my  book  of  poesy  finely  ornamented, 
bound  in  velvet,  and  decorated  with  silver-gilt  clasps  and  studs, 
as  a  present  for  the  king.  Having  this  intention,  I  spared  no 
pains;  and  the  cost  and  labour  seem  trifling  to  people  when- 
ever they  undertake  anything  willingly. 

Having  provided  myself  with  horses,  I  crossed  from  Calais  to 
Dover  on  the  12th  day  of  July ;  but  found  no  one  there  whom  I 
had  been  acquainted  with  in  my  former  journeys :  the  inns  were 
all  kept  by  new  people,  and  the  children  of  my  former  acquaint- 
ance were  become  men  and  women.  I  stayed  half  a  day  and 
night  to  refresh  myself  and  horses ;  and  on  Wednesday,  by  nine 
o'clock,  arrived  at  Canterbury  to  visit  the  shrine  of  Saint 
Thomas  and  the  tomb  of  the  late  prince  of  Wales,  who  had 
been  buried  there  with  great  pomp.  I  heard  high  mass,  made 
my  offering  at  the  shrine,  and  returned  to  my  inn  to  dinner, 
when  I  heard  the  king  was  to  come  the  following  day  in  pilgrim- 
age to  St.  Thomas  of  Becket.  He  was  lately  returned  from 
Ireland,  where  he  had  remained  for  nine  months,  or  thereabouts, 
and  was  anxious  to  pay  his  devotions  in  this  church,  on  account 
of  the  holy  body  of  the  saint,  and  because  his  father  was  there 
buried.  I  thought,  therefore,  it  would  be  well  to  wait  his 
arrival,  which  I  did ;  and,  on  the  morrow,  the  king  came  in 
great  state,  accompanied  by  lords  and  ladies,  with  whom  I 
mixed ;  but  they  were  all  new  faces  to  me,  for  I  did  not  re- 
member one  of  them. 

Times  and  persons  had  greatly  changed  since  I  was  last  in 
England,  eight-and-twenty  years  past.  The  king  had  not  either 
of  his  uncles  with  him :  the  duke  of  Lancaster  was  in  Aquitaine, 
and  the  dukes  of  York  and  Gloucester  in  other  parts.  I  was  at 
first  quite  astonished,  and  should  have  been  comforted  could  I 
have  seen  an  ancient  knight  who  had  been  of  the  bed-chamber 
to  king  Edward,  and  was  in  the  same  capacity  to  the  present 
king,  as  well  as  of  his  privy  council,  and  could  I  have  made  my- 
self known  to  him.  The  name  of  this  knight  was  sir  Richard 
Sturry.     I  asked  if  he  were  alive :  they  said  he  was,  but  not  then 


FROISSART.  243 

present,  as  he  was  at  his  residence  in  London.  I  then  determined 
to  address  myself  to  sir  Thomas  Percy,  high  steward  of  England. 
I  found  him  gracious  and  of  agreeable  manners,  and  he  offered 
to  present  me  and  my  letters  to  the  king.  I  was  rejoiced  at  this 
promise;  for  it  is  necessary  to  have  friends  to  introduce  one  to 
so  great  a  prince  as  the  king  of  England.  He  went  to  the  king's 
apartments  to  see  if  it  were  a  proper  time,  but  found  the  king 
had  retired  to  repose :  he  therefore  bade  me  return  to  my  inn. 
When  I  thought  the  king  might  be  risen,  I  went  again  to  the 
palace  of  the  archbishop,  where  he  lodged ;  but  sir  Thomas 
Percy  and  his  people  were  preparing  to  set  out  for  Ospringe, 
whence  he  had  come  that  morning.  I  asked  sir  Thomas's 
advice  how  to  act :  "  For  the  present,"  he  said,  "  do  not  make 
further  attempts  to  announce  your  arrival,  but  follow  the  king ; 
and  I  will  take  care,  when  he  comes  to  his  palace  in  this 
country,  which  he  will  do  in  two  days,  that  you  shall  be  well 
lodged  as  long  as  the  court  tarries  there." 

The  king  was  going  to  a  beautiful  palace  in  the  county  of 
Kent,  called  Leeds  castle,  and  I  followed  sir  Thomas  Percy's 
advice  by  taking  the  road  to  Ospringe.  I  lodged  at  an  inn 
where  I  found  a  gallant  knight  of  the  king's  chamber,  but  he 
had  that  morning  stayed  behind  on  account  of  a  slight  pain  in 
his  head  that  had  seized  him  the  preceding  night.  This  knight, 
whose  name  was  sir  William  de  Lisle,  seeing  I  was  a  foreigner 
and  a  Frenchman  (for  all  who  speak  the  language  of  Oil  are  by 
the  English  considered  as  Frenchmen,  whatever  country  they 
may  come  from),  made  acquaintance  with  me,  and  I  with  him, 
for  the  English  are  courteous  to  strangers.  He  asked  my 
situation  and  business  in  England,  which  I  related  to  him  at 
length,  as  well  as  what  sir  Thomas  Percy  had  advised  me  to  do. 
He  replied  that  I  could  not  have  had  better  advice,  for  that  the 
king  would  on  Friday  be  at  Leeds  castle,  and  would  find  there  his 
uncle  the  duke  of  York,  I  was  well  pleased  to  hear  this,  for  I 
had  letters  to  the  duke,  and,  when  young,  was  known  to  him 
while  in  the  household  of  the  late  king  and  queen. 

I  courted  the  acquaintance  of  sir  William  de  Lisle,  as  a  means 
of  gaining  greater  intimacy  with  the  king's  household.     On  the 


244  FROISSART. 

Friday  we  rode  out  together,  and  on  the  road  I  asked  if  he  had 
accompanied  the  king  on  his  expedition  to  Ireland.  He  said  he 
had.  I  then  asked  if  there  were  any  foundation  in  truth  for 
what  was  said  of  St.  Patrick's  hole.  He  replied  there  was  ;  and 
that  he  and  another  knight,  during  the  king's  stay  at  Dublin, 
had  been  there.  They  entered  it  at  sunset,  remained  there  the 
whole  night,  and  came  out  at  sunrise  the  next  morning.  I  re- 
quested he  would  tell  me  whether  he  saw  all  the  marvellous 
things  which  are  said  to  be  seen  there.  He  made  me  the 
following  answer: — "When  I  and  my  companion  had  passed 
the  entrance  of  the  cave,  called  the  Purgatory  of  Saint  Patrick, 
we  descended  three  or  four  steps  (for  you  go  down  into  it  like  a 
cellar),  but  found  our  heads  so  much  affected  by  the  heat,  we 
seated  ourselves  on  the  steps,  which  are  of  stone,  and  such  a 
drowsiness  came  on,  that  we  slept  there  the  whole  night."  I 
asked  if,  when  asleep,  they  knew  where  they  were,  and  what 
visions  they  had.  He  said  they  had  many  very  strange  dreams, 
and  they  seemed,  as  they  imagined,  to  see  more  than  they  would 
have  done  if  they  had  been  in  their  beds.  This  they  both  were 
assured  of.  "  When  morning  came,  and  we  were  awake,  the 
door  of  the  cave  was  opened,  for  so  we  had  ordered  it,  and  we 
came  out,  but  instantly  lost  all  recollection  of  everything  we  had 
seen,  and  looked  on  the  whole  as  a  phantom."  I  did  not  push 
the  conversation  further,  although  I  should  have  much  liked  to 
have  heard  what  he  would  say  of  Ireland;  but  other  knights 
overtook  us,  and  conversed  with  him;  and  thus  we  rode  to 
Leeds  castle,  where  the  king  and  his  court  arrived  shortly  after. 
The  duke  of  York  was  already  there ;  and  I  made  myself  known 
to  him  by  presenting  him  letters  from  his  cousins,  the  count  of 
Hainault  and  the  count  d'Ostrevant.  The  duke  recollected  me, 
and  made  me  a  hearty  welcome,  saying,  "  Sir  John,  keep  with 
us  and  our  people ;  for  we  will  show  you  every  courtesy  and 
attention :  we  are  bounden  so  to  do,  from  remembrance  of  past 
times,  and  affection  to  the  memory  of  our  lady-mother,  to  whom 
you  were  attached.  We  have  not  forgotten  these  times."  I 
warmly  thanked  him,  as  was  just,  for  his  kind  speech,  and  was 
well  noticed  by  him,  sir  Thomas  Percy,  and  sir  William  de  Lisle, 


I 


FROISSART.  245 

who  carried  me  to  the  king's  chamber,  where  I  was  introduced 
to  him  by  his  uncle,  the  duke  of  York. 

The  king  received  me  graciously  and  kindly ;  he  took  all  the 
letters  I  presented  to  him,  and,  having  read  them  attentively, 
said  I  was  welcome,  and  that  since  I  had  belonged  to  the 
household  of  the  late  king  and  queen,  his  grandfather  and 
grandmother,  I  must  consider  myself  still  as  of  the  royal  house- 
hold of  England.  This  day  I  did  not  offer  him  the  book  I  had 
brought ;  for  sir  Thomas  Percy  told  me  it  was  not  a  fit  oppor- 
tunity, as  he  was  much  occupied  with  serious  business.  The 
council  was  deeply  engaged  on  two  subjects :  first,  in  respect  to 
the  negotiation  with  France,  to  treat  of  a  marriage  between  the 
king  and  the  lady  Isabella,  eldest  daughter  to  the  king  of 
France,  who  at  that  time  was  about  eight  years  old.  The 
ambassadors  appointed  to  make  this  proposal  to  France  were 
the  earl  of  Rutland,  cousin-german  to  the  king,  the  earl 
marshal,  the  archbishop  of  Dublin,  the  bishop  of  Lye,  the 
lord  Clifford,  lord  Beaumont,  lord  Hugh  Spencer,  and  several 
others. 

Secondly,  the  lord  de  la  Barde,  the  lord  de  la  Taride,  the 
lord  de  Pinteme,  the  lord  de  Chateauneuf,  the  lords  de 
Levesque  and  de  Copane,  the  chief  magistrates  of  Bordeaux, 
Bayonne,  and  Dax,  were  come  to  England,  and  greatly  perse- 
cuted the  king,  since  his  return  from  Ireland,  for  an  answer  to 
their  petitions  and  remonstrances  on  the  gift  the  king  had 
made  his  uncle,  the  duke  of  Lancaster,  of  all  Aquitaine,  with 
its  lordships,  baronies,  and  dependencies,  which  had  apper- 
tained to  the  king  and  crown  of  England,  The  above-men- 
tioned lords,  and  principal  cities  and  towns  in  Aquitaine, 
maintained  that  such  a  gift  could  not  be  made,  and  that  it  was 
null ;  for  that  the  whole  of  Aquitaine  was  a  fief  depending 
solely  on  the  crown  of  England,  and  that  they  would  never 
consent  thus  to  be  disjoined  from  it.  They  had  made  several 
reasonable  propositions  for  an  accommodation,  which  I  will 
relate  in  proper  time  and  place.  In  order  that  these  matters 
might  be  more  fully  considered,  and  indeed  they  required  it, 
the  king  had  summoned  the  principal  barons  and  prelates  of 


2  46  FROISSART. 

the  realm  to  meet  him  on  Magdalen-day,  at  his  palace  of 
Eltham,  seven  miles  from  London,  and  the  same  distance  from 
Dartford.  On  the  fourth  day  after  the  king's  arrival,  when  I 
learnt  that  he,  his  council,  and  the  duke  of  York,  were  about 
to  quit  Leeds  castle  and  go  to  Rochester,  in  their  way  to 
Eltham,  I  set  out  in  their  company. 

On  the  road  to  Rochester,  I  asked  sir  William  de  Lisle  and 
sir  John  de  Grailly,  governor  of  Bouteville,  the  cause  of  the 
king's  journey  to  London,  and  why  the  parliament  was  to  be 
assembled  at  Eltham.  They  both  answered  me  satisfactorily ; 
but  sir  John  Grailly  particularly  informed  me  why  the  lords  of 
Gascony  and  the  deputies  from  the  chief  towns  were  come  to 
England. 

With  such  conversation  did  sir  John  de  Grailly  entertain  me 
while  travelling  between  Rochester  and  Dartford.  He  was  the 
bastard  son  of  that  gallant  knight  the  captal  de  Buch.  I 
eagerly  listened  to  all  he  said,  and  treasured  his  words  in  my 
memory;  for  I  rode  chiefly  in  his  company,  and  with  sir 
William  de  Lisle,  the  whole  way  from  Leeds  castle  to  Eltham. 

The  king  arrived  at  Eltham  on  a  Tuesday.  On  the  Wednes- 
day the  lords  came  from  all  parts.  There  were  the  duke  of 
Gloucester,  the  earls  of  Derby,  Arundel,  Northumberland, 
Kent,  Rutland,  the  earl  marshal,  the  archbishops  of  Canter- 
bury and  of  York,  the  bishops  of  London  and  of  Winchester : 
in  short,  all  who  had  been  summoned  arrived  at  Eltham  on  the 
Thursday,  by  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning.  The  parliament 
was  holden  in  the  king's  apartment,  in  the  presence  of  the  king, 
his  uncles,  and  council.  The  knights  from  Gascony  and  the 
deputies  from  the  cities  and  towns,  as  well  as  those  sent  by  the 
duke  of  Lancaster,  were  present. 

I  cannot  say  what  passed  at  this  parliament,  for  I  was  not 
admitted,  nor  were  any  but  the  members  of  it.  It  sat  for 
upwards  of  four  hours.  When  it  was  over,  I  renewed  my 
acquaintance  after  dinner  with  an  ancient  knight  whom  in  my 
youth  I  well  knew,  when  he  was  of  the  chamber  of  king 
Edward.     He  was  now  one  of  the  principal   advisers  of  king 


I 


I 


FROISSART.  247 

Richard,  and  deserving  of  it  :  his  name  was  sir  Richard  Slurry. 
He  immediately  recollected  me,  though  it  was  twenty-four 
years  since  we  had  seen  each  other ;  the  last  time  was  at 
Colleberge,  at  Brussels,  in  the  hotel  of  duke  Winceslaus  and 
the  duchess  Jane  of  Brabant.  Sir  Richard  Sturry  seemed  ver>' 
glad  to  see  me,  and  made  me  a  hearty  welcome.  He  asked  many 
questions,  which  I  answered  as  fully  and  as  well  as  I  could. 
While  we  were  walking  near  the  king's  apartment  at  Eltham,  I 
inquired  if  he  could  inform  me  what  had  been  the  determina- 
tion of  the  parliament :  having  mused  awhile,  he  said  he  would 
tell  me,  for  it  was  not  worth  while  to  conceal  what  must  shortly 
be  made  public. 

As  I  have  mentioned,  the  deputies  from  Gascony  and  from 
the  chief  towns  in  Aquitaine  were  earnest  in  their  solicitations 
to  the  king  and  council  that  they  might  remain  attached  to  the 
crown  of  England,  according  to  their  ancient  rights  and 
privileges,  which  it  had  been  repeatedly  sworn  should  be 
observed,  in  spite  of  every  cause,  obstacle,  or  condition  to  the 
contrar}'.  Three  parts  of  the  council,  and  the  unanimous  voice 
of  the  people  of  England,  were  on  their  side ;  but  Thomas  of 
Woodstock,  duke  of  Gloucester,  youngest  son  to  the  late  king 
Edward,  opposed  them,  and  plainly  showed  he  wished  his 
brother  of  Lancaster  to  be  detained  in  Aquitaine,  for  he  felt  he 
was  too  powerful  when  in  England,  and  too  nearly  allied  to  the 
king.  As  for  his  brother  of  York,  he  held  him  cheap,  for  he 
interfered  little  in  public  affairs,  and  was  without  malice  or 
guile,  wishing  only  to  live  in  quiet:  he  had  besides  just  married 
a  young  and  beautiful  wife,  daughter  to  the  earl  of  Kent,  with 
whom  he  spent  most  of  his  time  which  was  not  occupied  with 
other  amusements.  The  duke  of  Gloucester  was  cunning  and 
malicious,  and  continually  soliciting  favours  from  his  nephew 
king  Richard,  pleading  poverty,  though  he  abounded  in  wealth  ; 
for  he  was  constable  of  England,  duke  of  Gloucester,  earl  of 
Buckingham,  Essex,  and  Northampton.  He  had,  besides, 
pensions  on  the  king's  exchequer,  to  the  amount  of  four 
thousand  nobles  a  year;  and  he  would  not  exert  himself  in  any 


248  FROISSART. 

way  to  serve  his  king  or  country,  if  he  were  not  well  paid  for  it. 
He  was  violently  adverse  to  those  of  Aquitaine  in  this  business, 
and  did  everything  in  his  power  that  the  duke  of  Lancaster 
might  not  return  to  England,  for  then  he  would  have  every- 
thing his  own  way. 

To  show  that  he  governed  the  king  and  was  the  greatest  in 
the  council,  as  soon  as  he  had  delivered  his  opinion  and  saw 
that  many  were  murmuring  at  it,  and  that  the  prelates  and 
lords  were  discussing  it  in  small  parties,  he  quitted  the  king's 
chamber,  followed  by  the  earl  of  Derby,  and  entered  the  hall  at 
Eltham,  where  he  ordered  a  table  to  be  spread,  and  they 
both  sat  down  to  dinner  while  the  others  were  debating  the 
business.  When  the  duke  of  York  heard  they  were  at  dinner, 
he  joined  them.  After  their  dinner,  which  took  no  long  time, 
the  duke  of  Gloucester,  dissembling  his  thoughts,  took  leave 
of  the  king  as  he  was  seated  at  table,  mounted  his  horse, 
and  returned  to  London.  The  earl  of  Derby  remained  that  and 
the  ensuing  day  with  the  king  and  the  lords,  but  those  from 
Aquitaine  could  not  procure  any  answer  to  their  petitions. 

I  have  taken  much  pleasure  in  detailing  everything  relative 
to  the  dispute  with  Gascony  and  Aquitaine,  that  the  truth  of  my 
history  may  be  apparent;  and  because  I,  the  author  of  it,  could 
not  be  present  in  these  councils,  that  ancient  and  valiant  knight 
sir  Richard  Situixy  told  rne  everything,  word  for  word,  as  I  have 
transcribed.  On  the  Sunday  the  whole  council  were  gone  to 
London,  excepting  the  duke  of  York,  who  remained  with  the 
king,  and  sir  Richard  Sturry:  these  two,  in  conjunction  with  sir 
Thomas  Percy,  mentioned  me  again  to  the  king,  who  desired  to 
see  the  book  I  had  brought  for  him.  I  presented  it  to  him  in 
his  chamber,  for  I  had  it  with  me,  and  laid  it  on  his  bed.  He 
opened  and  looked  into  it  with  much  pleasure.  He  ought  to  have 
been  pleased,  for  it  was  handsomely  written  and  illuminated,  and 
bound  in  crimson  velvet,  with  ten  silver-gilt  studs,  and  roses  of 
the  same  in  the  middle,  with  two  large  clasps  of  silver-gilt,  richly 
worked  with  roses  in  the  centre.  The  king  asked  me  what  the 
book  treated  of:  I  replied,  "Of  love  !"  He  was  pleased  with 
the  answer,  and  dipped  into  several  places,  reading  parts  aloud, 


FROISSART.  949 

for  he  read  and  spoke  French  perfectly  well,  and  then  ^'.ivc  it  to 
one  of  his  knights,  called  sir  Richard  Credon,  to  carry  to  his 
oratory,  and  made  me  many  acknowledgments  for  it. 

It  happened  this  same  Sunday,  after  the  king  had  received 
my  book  so  handsomely,  an  English  squire,  being  in  the  king's 
chamber,  called  Henr>'  Castide,  a  man  of  prudence  and 
character,  and  who  spoke  French  well,  made  acquaintance 
with  me,  because  he  saw  the  king  and  lords  give  me  so 
hearty  a  reception,  and  had  likewise  noticed  the  book  I  had 
presented  to  the  king:  he  also  imagined,  from  his  first  con- 
versation, that  I  was  an  historian ;  indeed,  he  had  been  told  so 
by  sir  Richard  Sturry.  He  thus  addressed  me:  "Sir  John, 
have  you  as  yet  found  any  one  to  give  you  an  account  of  the 
late  expedition  to  Ireland,  and  how  four  kings  of  that  country 
submitted  themselves  to  the  obedience  of  the  king?"  I  replied 
that  I  had  not.  "  I  will  tell  it  you,  then,"  said  the  squire,  who 
might  be  about  fifty  years  old,  "  in  order  that,  when  you  are 
returned  home,  you  may  at  your  leisure  insert  it  in  your  histor)', 
to  be  had  in  perpetual  remembrance."  I  was  delighted  to  hear 
this,  and  ofi'ered  him  my  warmest  thanks. 

Henry  Castide  thus  began :  "  It  is  not  in  the  memor}-  of  man 
that  any  king  of  England  ever  led  so  large  an  armament  of  men- 
at-arms  and  archers  to  make  war  on  the  Irish  as  the  present 
king.  He  remained  upwards  of  nine  months  in  Ireland,  at 
great  expense,  which,  however,  was  cheerfully  defrayed  by  his 
kingdom ;  for  the  principal  cities  and  towns  of  England  thought 
it  was  well  laid  out,  when  they  saw  their  king  return  home  with 
honour.  Only  gentlemen  and  archers  had  been  employed  on 
this  expedition ;  and  there  were  with  the  king  four  thousand 
knights  and  squires  and  thirty  thousand  archers,  all  regularly 
paid  even,'  week,  and  so  well  they  were  satisfied.  To  tell  you 
the  truth,  Ireland  is  one  of  the  worst  countries  to  make  war  in, 
or  to  conquer;  for  there  are  such  impenetrable  and  extensive 
forests,  lakes,  and  bogs,  there  is  no  knowing  how  to  pass  them, 
and  carry  on  war  advantageously:  it  is  so  thinly  inhabited, 
that,  whenever  the  Irish  please,  they  desert  the  towns,  and  take 
refuge  in  these  forests,  and  live  in  huts  made  of  boughs,  like 


250  FROISSART. 

wild  beasts ;  and  whenever  they  perceive  any  parties  advancing 
with  hostile  dispositions,  and  about  to  enter  their  country, 
they  fly  to  such  narrow  passes,  it  is  impossible  to  follow  them. 
When  they  find  a  favourable  opportunity  to  attack  their  enemies 
to  advantage,  which  frequently  happens,  from  their  knowledge 
of  the  country,  they  fail  not  to  seize  it ;  and  no  man-at-arms,  be 
he  ever  so  well  mounted,  can  overtake  them,  so  light  are  they 
of  foot.  Sometimes  they  leap  from  the  ground  behind  a  horse- 
man, and  embrace  the  rider  (for  they  are  very  strong  in  their 
arms)  so  tightly,  that  he  can  no  way  get  rid  of  them.  The 
Irish  have  pointed  knives,  with  broad  blades,  sharp  on  both 
sides  like  a  dart-head,  with  which  they  kill  their  enemies ;  but 
they  never  consider  them  as  dead  until  they  have  cut  their 
throats  like  sheep,  opened  their  bellies  and  taken  out  their 
hearts,  which  they  carry  off  with  them,  and  some  say,  who  are 
well  acquainted  with  their  manners,  that  they  devour  them  as 
delicious  morsels.  They  never  accept  of  ransom  for  their 
prisoners;  and  when  they  find  they  have  not  the  advantage 
in  any  skirmishes,  they  mstantly  separate,  and  hide  themselves 
in  hedges,  bushes,  or  holes  underground,  so  that  they  seem  to 
disappear,  no  one  knows  whither. 

"  Sir  William  Windsor,  who  has  longer  made  war  in  Ireland 
than  any  other  English  knight,  has  never  been  able,  during  his 
residence  among  them,  to  learn  correctly  their  manners,  nor 
the  condition  of  the  Irish  people.  They  are  a  very  hardy 
race,  of  great  subtlety,  and  of  various  tempers,  paying  no 
attention  to  cleanliness,  nor  to  any  gentleman,  although  their 
country  is  governed  by  kings,  of  whom  there  are  several,  but 
seem  desirous  to  remain  in  the  savage  state  they  have  been 
brought  up  in.  True  it  is,  that  four  of  the  most  potent  kings 
in  Ireland  have  submitted  to  the  king  of  England,  but  more 
through  love  and  good-humour  than  by  battle  or  force.  The 
earl  of  Ormond,  whose  lands  join  their  kingdoms,  took  great 
pains  to  induce  them  to  go  to  Dublin,  where  the  king  our  lord 
resided,  and  to  submit  themselves  to  him  and  to  the  crown 
of  England.  This  was  considered  by  every  one  as  a  great 
acquisition,  and  the  object  of  the  armament  accomplished :  forj 


I 


FROISSART.  451 

during  the  whole  of  king  Edward's  reign,  of  happy  memory, 
he  had  never  such  success  as  king  Richard.  The  honour  is 
great,  but  the  advantage  little,  for  with  such  savages  nothing 
can  be  done.  I  will  tell  you  an  instance  of  their  savagencss, 
that  it  may  serve  as  an  example  to  other  nations.  You  may 
depend  on  its  truth ;  for  I  was  an  eye-witness  of  what  I  shall 
relate,  as  they  were  about  a  month  under  my  care  and  govern- 
ance at  Dublin,  to  teach  them  the  usages  of  England,  by 
orders  of  the  king  and  council,  because  I  knew  their  language 
as  well  as  I  did  French  and  English,  for  in  my  youth  I  was 
educated  among  them ;  and  earl  Thomas,  father  of  the  present 
earl  of  Ormond,  kept  me  with  him,  out  of  affection,  for  my 
good  horsemanship. 

"  It  happened  that  the  earl  above-mentioned  was  sent  with 
three  hundred  lances  and  one  thousand  archers  to  make  war  on 
the  Irish;  for  the  English  had  kept  up  a  constant  warfare 
against  them,  in  hopes  of  bringing  them  under  their  subjection. 
The  earl  of  Ormond,  whose  lands  bordered  on  his  opponents, 
had  that  day  mounted  me  on  one  of  his  best  horses,  and  I  rode 
by  his  side.  The  Irish  having  formed  an  ambuscade  to  surprise 
the  English,  advanced  from  it ;  but  were  so  sharply  attacked 
by  the  archers,  whose  arrows  they  could  not  withstand,  for  they 
are  not  armed  against  them,  that  they  soon  retreated.  The 
earl  pursued  them,  and  I,  who  was  well  mounted,  kept  close  by 
him :  it  chanced  that  in  this  pursuit  my  horse  took  fright,  and 
ran  away  with  me,  in  spite  of  all  my  efforts,  into  the  midst  of 
the  enemy.  My  friends  could  never  overtake  me ;  and,  in 
passing  through  the  Irish,  one  of  them,  by  a  great  feat  of 
agility,  leaped  on  the  back  of  my  horse,  and  held  me  tight  with 
both  his  arms,  but  did  me  no  harm  with  lance  or  knife.  He 
pressed  my  horse  forward  for  more  than  two  hours,  and  con- 
ducted him  to  a  large  bush,  in  a  very  retired  spot,  where  he 
found  his  companions  who  had  run  thither  to  escape  the 
EngHsh.  He  seemed  much  rejoiced  to  have  made  me  his 
prisoner,  and  carried  me  to  his  house,  which  was  strong,  and 
in  a  town  surrounded  with  wood,  palisades,  and  stagnant  water : 
the  name  of  this  town  was  Herpelin.     The  gentleman  who  had 


252  FROISSART. 

taken  me  was  called  Brin  Costeret,  a  very  handsome  man.  I 
have  frequently  made  inquiries  after  him,  and  hear  that  he  is 
still  alive,  but  very  old.  This  Bryan  Costeret  kept  me  with  him 
seven  years,  and  gave  me  his  daughter  in  marriage,  by  whom  I 
have  two  girls.  I  will  tell  you  how  I  obtained  my  liberty.  It 
happened  in  the  seventh  year  of  my  captivity,  that  one  of  their 
kings,  Arthur  Macquemaire,  king  of  Leinster,  raised  an  army 
against  Lionel,  duke  of  Clarence,  son  to  king  Edward  of  Eng- 
land, and  both  armies  met  veiy  near  the  city  of  Leinster.  In 
the  battle  that  followed,  many  were  slain  and  taken  on 
both  sides;  but,  the  English  gaining  the  day,  the  Irish  were 
forced  to  fly,  and  the  king  of  Leinster  escaped.  The  father  of 
my  wife  was  made  prisoner,  under  the  banner  of  the  duke  of 
Clarence;  and  as  Bryan  Costeret  was  mounted  on  my  horse, 
which  was  remembered  to  have  belonged  to  the  earl  of  Ormond, 
it  was  then  first  known  that  I  was  alive,  that  he  had  honourably 
entertained  me  at  his  house  in  Herpelin,  and  given  me  his 
daughter  in  marriage.  The  duke  of  Clarence,  sir  William 
Windsor,  and  all  of  our  party  were  well  pleased  to  hear  this 
news,  and  he  was  offered  his  liberty,  on  condition  that  he  gave 
me  mine,  and  sent  me  to  the  English  army,  with  my  wife  and 
children.  He  at  first  refused  the  terms,  from  his  love  to  me, 
his  daughter,  and  our  children ;  but,  when  he  found  no  other 
terms  would  be  accepted,  he  agreed  to  them,  provided  my 
eldest  daughter  remained  with  him.  I  returned  to  England 
with  my  wife  and  youngest  daughter,  and  fixed  my  residence  at 
Bristol.  My  two  children  are  married ;  the  one  established  in 
Ireland  has  three  boys  and  two  girls,  and  her  sister  four  sons 
and  two  daughters. 

"  Because  the  Irish  language  is  as  familiar  to  me  as  English, 
for  I  have  always  spoken  it  in  my  family,  and  introduce  it 
among  my  grandchildren  as  much  as  I  can,  I  have  been  chosen 
by  our  lord  and  king  to  teach  and  accustom  the  four  Irish  kings, 
who  have  sworn  obedience  for  ever  to  England,  to  the  manners 
of  the  English.  I  must  say  that  these  kings  who  were  under 
my  management  were  of  coarse  manners  and  understandings; 
and,  in  spite  of  all  that  I  could  do  to  soften  their  language  and 


FROISSART.  253 

nature,  very  little  progress  had  been  made,  for  they  would  fre- 
quently return  to  their  former  coarse  behaviour, 

"  I  will  more  particularly  relate  the  charge  that  was  given  me 
over  them,  and  how  I  managed  it.  The  king  of  England 
intended  these  four  kings  should  adopt  the  manners,  ap- 
pearance, and  dress  of  the  English,  for  he  wanted  to  create 
them  knights.  He  gave  them  first  a  very  handsome  house  m 
the  city  of  DubHn  for  themselves  and  attendants,  where  I  was 
ordered  to  reside  with  them,  and  never  to  leave  the  house  with- 
out an  absolute  necessity.  I  lived  with  them  for  three  or  four 
days  without  any  way  interfering,  that  we  might  become  accus- 
tomed to  each  other,  and  I  allowed  them  to  act  just  as  they 
pleased.  I  observed  that  as  they  sat  at  table  they  made 
grimaces,  that  did  not  seem  to  me  graceful  nor  becoming,  and 
I  resolved  in  my  own  mind  to  make  them  drop  that  custom. 
When  these  kings  were  seated  at  table,  and  the  first  dish  was 
served,  they  would  make  their  minstrels  and  principal  servants 
sit  beside  them,  and  eat  from  their  plates  and  drink  from  their 
cups.  They  told  me  this  was  a  praiseworthy  custom  of  their 
country,  where  everything  was  in  common  but  the  bed.  I  per- 
mitted this  to  be  done  for  three  days;  but  on  the  fourth  I 
ordered  the  tables  to  be  laid  out  and  covered  properly,  placing 
the  four  kings  at  an  upper  table,  the  minstrels  at  another  below, 
and  the  servants  lower  stilL  They  looked  at  each  other,  and 
refused  to  eat,  saying  I  had  deprived  them  of  their  old  custom 
in  which  they  had  been  brought  up.  I  replied  with  a  smile,  to 
appease  them,  that  their  custom  was  not  decent  nor  suitable  to 
their  rank,  nor  would  it  be  honourable  for  them  to  continue  it; 
for  that  now  they  should  conform  to  the  manners  of  the 
English;  and  to  instruct  them  in  these  particulars  was  the 
motive  of  my  residence  with  them,  having  been  so  ordered  by 
the  king  of  England  and  his  council.  When  they  heard  this 
they  made  no  further  opposition  to  whatever  I  proposed,  from 
having  placed  themselves  under  the  obedience  of  England,  and 
continued  good-humouredly  to  persevere  in  it  as  long  as  I  stayed 
with  them. 

"  They  had  another  custom   I  knew  to  be  common  in  the 


254  FROISSART. 

country,  which  was  the  not  wearing  breeches.  I  had,  in  conse- 
quence, plenty  of  breeches  made  of  Hnen  and  cloth,  which  I 
gave  to  the  kings  and  their  attendants,  and  accustomed  them  to 
wear  them.  I  took  away  many  rude  articles,  as  well  in  their 
dress  as  other  things,  and  had  great  difficulty  at  the  first  to 
induce  them  to  wear  robes  of  silken  cloth,  trimmed  with  squirrel- 
skin  or  minever,  for  the  kings  only  wrapped  themselves  up 
in  an  Irish  cloak.  In  riding  they  neither  used  saddles  nor 
stirrups,  and  I  had  some  trouble  to  make  them  conform  in  this 
respect  to  the  English  manners. 

"  I  once  made  inquiry  concerning  their  faith ;  but  they  seemed 
so  much  displeased,  I  was  forced  to  silence :  they  said  they 
believed  in  God  and  the  Trinity,  without  any  difference  from 
our  creed.  I  asked  which  pope  they  were  inclined  to:  they 
replied,  without  hesitation,  'To  that  at  Rome.'  I  inquired  if 
they  would  like  to  receive  the  order  of  knighthood  ?  for  the  king 
would  willingly  create  them  such,  after  the  usual  modes  of 
France,  England,  and  other  countries.  They  said  they  were 
knights  already,  which  ought  to  satisfy  them.  I  asked  when 
they  were  made;  they  answered,  at  seven  years  old;  that  in 
Ireland  a  king  makes  his  son  a  knight,  and  should  the  child 
have  lost  his  father,  then  the  nearest  relation;  and  the  young 
knight  begins  to  learn  to  tilt  with  a  light  lance  against  a  shield 
fixed  to  a  post  in  a  field,  and  the  more  lances  he  breaks  the 
more  honour  he  acquires.  '  By  this  method,'  added  they,  '  are 
our  young  knights  trained,  more  especially  kings'  sons.'  Al- 
though I  asked  this,  I  was  before  well  acquainted  with  the 
manner  of  educating  their  children  to  arms.  I  made  no  further 
reply  than  by  saying  this  kind  of  childish  knighthood  would 
not  satisfy  the  king  of  England,  and  that  he  would  create  them 
in  another  mode.  They  asked,  '  In  what  manner?'  '  In  church, 
with  most  solemn  ceremonies;'  and  I  believe  they  paid  atten- 
tion to  what  I  said. 

"  About  two  days  after,  the  king  was  desirous  to  create  these 
kings  knights;  and  the  earl  of  Ormond,  who  understood  and 
spoke  Irish  well,  as  his  lands  joined  the  territories  of  the  kings, 
was  sent  to  wait  on  them,  that  they  might  have  more  confidence 


I'ROISSART.  255 

in  the  message  from  the  king  and  council.  On  his  arrival,  they 
showed  hiin  every  respect,  which  he  returned,  as  he  knew  well 
how  to  do,  and  they  seemed  happy  at  his  coming.  He  began  a 
most  friendly  conversation  with  them,  and  inquired  if  they  were 
satisfied  with  my  conduct  and  behaviour.  They  replied,  '  Per- 
fectly well :  he  has  prudently  and  wisely  taught  us  the  manners 
and  usages  of  his  country,  for  which  we  ought  to  be  obliged, 
and  do  thank  him.'  This  answer  was  agreeable  to  the  earl  of 
Ormond,  for  it  showed  sense ;  and  then,  by  degrees,  he  began 
to  talk  of  the  order  of  knighthood  they  were  to  receive,  explain- 
ing to  them  every  article  and  ceremony  of  it,  and  how  a  great 
value  should  be  set  on  it,  and  how  those  who  were  created 
knights  behaved.  The  whole  of  the  earl's  conversation  was 
very  pleasing  to  the  four  kings,  whom,  however,  as  I  have  not 
yet  named,  I  will  now  do :  first,  Aneel  the  great,  king  of  Mecte ; 
secondly,  Brun  de  Thomond,  king  of  Thomond  and  of  Aire ; 
the  third,  Arthur  Macquemaire,  king  of  Leinster;  and  the 
fourth,  Contruo,  king  of  Chenour  and  Erpe.  They  were  made 
knights  by  the  hand  of  the  king  of  England,  on  the  feast  of  our 
Lady  in  March,  which  that  year  fell  on  a  Thursday,  in  the 
cathedral  of  Dublin,  that  was  founded  by  Saint  John  the 
Baptist.  The  four  kings  watched  all  the  Wednesday  night  in 
the  cathedral ;  and  on  the  morrow,  after  mass,  they  were  created 
knights,  w^th  much  solemnity.  There  were  knighted  at  the 
same  time  sir  Thomas  Orphem,  sir  Joathas  Pado,  and  his 
■j  cousin  sir  John  Pado.  The  four  kings  were  veiy  richly  dressed, 
I  suitable  to  their  rank,  and  that  day  dined  at  the  table  of  king 
Richard,  where  they  were  much  stared  at  by  the  lords  and  those 
present;  not  indeed  without  reason;  for  they  were  strange 
figures,  and  differently  countenanced  to  the  English  or  other 
nations.  We  are  naturally  inclined  to  gaze  at  anything  strange, 
and  it  was  certainly,  sir  John,  at  that  time  a  great  novelty  to 
see  four  Irish  kings." 

"  Sir  Henry,  I  readily  believe  you,  and  would  have  given  a 
good  deal  if  I  could  have  been  there.  Last  year  I  had  made 
arrangements  for  coming  to  England,  and  should  have  done  so, 
had  I  not  heard  of  the  death  of  queen  Anne,  which  made  me 


256  J^ROISSART. 

postpone  my  journey.  But  I  wish  to  ask  you  one  thing,  which 
has  much  surprised  me:  I  should  like  to  know  how  these  four 
Irish  kings  have  so  readily  submitted  to  king  Richard,  when  his 
valiant  grandfather,  who  was  so  much  redoubted  everywhere, 
could  never  reduce  them  to  obedience,  and  was  always  at  war 
with  them.  You  have  said  it  was  brought  about  by  a  treaty  and 
the  grace  of  God:  the  grace  of  God  is  good,  and  of  infinite 
value  to  those  who  can  obtain  it;  but  we  see  few  lords  nowa- 
days augment  their  territories  otherwise  than  by  force.  When 
1  shall  be  returned  to  my  native  country  of  Hainault,  and  speak 
of  these  matters,  I  shall  be  strictly  examined  concerning  them; 
for  our  lord  duke  Albert  of  Bavaria,  earl  of  Holland,  Hainault, 
and  Zealand,  and  his  son  William  of  Hainault,  style  themselves 
lords  of  Friesland,  an  extensive  country,  over  which  they  claim 
the  government,  as  their  predecessors  have  done  before  them ; 
but  the  Frieslanders  refuse  to  acknowledge  their  right,  and  will 
not  by  any  means  submit  themselves  to  their  obedience." 

To  this  Henry  Castide  answered:  "In  truth,  sir  John,  I 
cannot  more  fully  explain  how  it  was  brought  about ;  but  it  is 
generally  believed  by  most  of  our  party,  that  the  Irish  were 
exceedingly  frightened  at  the  great  force  the  king  landed  in 
Ireland,  where  it  remained  for  nine  months.  Their  coasts  were 
so  surrounded,  that  neither  provision  nor  merchandise  could  be 
landed;  but  the  inland  natives  were  indifferent  to  this,  as  they 
are  unacquainted  with  commerce,  nor  do  they  wish  to  know 
anything  of  it,  but  simply  to  live  like  wild  beasts.  Those  who 
reside  on  the  coast  opposite  to  England  are  better  informed, 
and  accustomed  to  traffic.  King  Edward,  of  happy  memory,  had 
in  his  reign  so  many  wars  to  provide  for,  in  France,  Brittany, 
Gascony,  and  Scotland,  that  his  forces  were  dispersed  in  dififer- 
ent  quarters,  and  he  was  unable  to  send  any  great  armament  to 
Ireland.  When  the  Irish  found  so  large  a  force  was  now  come 
against  them,  they  considered  it  most  advisable  to  submit  them- 
selves to  the  king  of  England.  Formerly,  when  Saint  Edward, 
who  had  been  canonised,  and  was  worshipped  with  much 
solemnity  by  the  English,  was  their  king,  he  thrice  defeated 
the   Danes  on   sea  and  land.     This   Saint   Edward,  king   of 


FROISSART.  957 

England,  lord  of  Ireland,  and  of  Aquitaine,  the  Irish  loved  and 
feared  more  than  any  other  king  of  England  before  or  since. 
It  was  for  this  reason,  that,  when  our  king  went  thither  last  year, 
he  laid  aside  the  leopards  and  flowers-de-luce,  and  bore  the 
arms  of  Saint  Edward  emblazoned  on  all  his  banners:  these 
were  a  cross  patencd  or,  on  a  field  gules,  with  four  doves  argent 
on  the  shield  or  banner,  as  you  please.  This  we  heard  was 
very  pleasing  to  the  Irish,  and  inclined  them  more  to  submis- 
sion, for  in  truth  the  ancestors  of  these  four  kings  had  done 
homage  and  service  to  Saint  Edward:  they  also  considered 
king  Richard  as  a  prudent  and  conscientious  man,  and  have 
therefore  paid  their  homage  in  the  like  manner  as  was  done  to 
Saint  Edward. 

"Thus  I  have  related  to  you  how  our  king  accomplished  the 
object  of  his  expedition  to  Ireland.  Keep  it  in  your  memory, 
that  when  returned  home  you  may  insert  it  in  your  chronicle 
with  other  histories  that  are  connected  with  it."  "  Henry,"  said 
I,  "  you  have  well  spoken,  and  it  shall  be  done."  Upon  this  we 
separated;  and  meeting  soon  after  the  herald  March,  I  said, 
"  March,  tell  me  what  are  the  arms  of  Henry  Castide ;  for  I 
have  found  him  very  agreeable,  and  he  has  kindly  related  to  me 
the  history  of  the  king's  expedition  to  Ireland,  and  of  the  four 
Irish  kings,  who,  as  he  says,  were  under  his  governance  up- 
wards of  fifteen  days."  March  replied,  "  He  bears  for  arms  a 
chevron  gules  on  a  field  argent,  with  three  besants  gules,  two 
above  the  chevron  and  one  below." 

All  these  things  I  retained  in  my  memory,  and  put  on  paper, 
for  I  wished  not  to  forget  them. 

I  remained  in  the  household  of  the  king  of  England  as  long 
as  I  pleased ;  but  I  was  not  always  in  the  same  place,  for  the 
king  frequently  changed  his  abode.  He  went  to  Eltham, 
Leeds  Castle,  Kingston,  Shene,  Chertsey,  and  Windsor;  none 
very  far  from  London. 


17 


258  FROISSART, 


THE  DEATH   OF   KING   RICHARD. 

It  was  not  long  after  this  that  a  true  report  was  current  in 
London  of  the  death  of  Richard  of  Bordeaux.  I  could  not 
learn  the  particulars  of  it,  nor  how  it  happened,  the  day  I  wrote 
these  chronicles.  Richard  of  Bordeaux,  when  dead,  was  placed 
on  a  litter  covered  with  black,  and  a  canopy  of  the  same.  Four 
black  horses  were  harnessed  to  it,  and  two  varlets  in  mourning 
conducted  the  litter,  followed  by  four  knights  dressed  also  in 
mourning.  Thus  they  left  the  Tower  of  London,  where  he  had 
died,  and  paraded  the  streets  at  a  foot's  pace  until  they  came  to 
Cheapside,  which  is  the  greatest  thoroughfare  in  the  city,  and 
there  they  halted  for  upwards  of  two  hours.  More  than  twenty 
thousand  persons,  of  both  sexes,  came  to  see  the  king,  who 
lay  in  the  litter,  his  head  on  a  black  cushion,  and  his  face 
uncovered. 

Some  pitied  him,  when  they  saw  him  in  this  state,  but  others 
did  not,  saying  he  had  for  a  long  time  deserved  death.  Now 
consider,  ye  kings,  lords,  dukes,  prelates,  and  earls,  how  ver}- 
changeable  the  fortunes  of  this  world  are.  This  king  Richard 
reigned  twenty-two  years  in  great  prosperity,  and  with  much 
splendour ;  for  there  never  was  a  king  of  England  who  expended 
such  sums,  by  more  than  one  hundred  thousand  florins,  as  king 
Richard  did  in  keeping  up  his  state  and  his  household  estab- 
lishments. I,  John  Froissart,  canon  and  treasurer  of  Chimay, 
know  it  well,  for  I  witnessed  and  examined  it,  during  my 
residence  with  him,  for  a  quarter  of  a  year.  He  made  me  good 
cheer,  because  in  my  youth  I  had  been  secretary  to  king 
Edward,  his  grandfather,  and  the  lady  Philippa  of  Hainault, 
queen  of  England.  When  I  took  my  leave  of  him  at  Windsor, 
he  presented  me,  by  one  of  his  knights  called  sir  John  Golofre, 
a  silver-gilt  goblet,  weighing  full  two  ma/cs,  filled  with  one 
hundred  nobles,  which  were  then  of  service  to  me,  and  will  be 
so  as  long  as  I  live.  I  am  bound  to  pray  to  God  for  him,  and 
sorry  am  I  to  write  of  his  death  ;  but  as  I  have  dictated  and 
augmented  this  history  to  the  utmost  of  my  power,  it  became 


FROISSART.  259 

necessary  to  mention  it,  that  what  became  of  him  might  be 
known. 

I  saw  two  strange  things  in  my  time,  though  widely  different. 
I  was  sitting  at  dinner  in  the  city  of  Bordeaux  when  king 
Richard  was  bom:  it  was  on  a  Wednesday,  on  the  point  of 
ten  o'clock.  At  that  hour  sir  Richard  de  Pontchardon,  then 
marshal  of  Aquitaine,  came  to  me  and  said,  •'  Froissart,  write, 
that  it  may  be  remembered  my  lady  the  princess  is  brought  to 
bed  of  a  fine  son  :  he  is  born  on  Twelfth-day,  the  son  of  a  king's 
son,  and  shall  be  king  himself."  The  gallant  knight  foretold 
the  truth,  for  he  was  king  of  England  twenty-two  years ;  but  he 
did  not  foresee  what  %vas  to  be  the  conclusion  of  his  life.  When 
king  Richard  was  born,  his  father  was  in  Galicia,  which  don 
Pedro  had  given  him  to  conquer:  a  curious  thing  happened,  on 
my  first  going  to  England,  which  I  have  much  thought  on 
since.  I  was  in  the  service  of  queen  Philippa,  and  when  she 
accompanied  king  Edward  and  the  royal  family,  to  take  leave 
of  the  prince  and  princess  of  Wales,  at  Berkhampstead,  on 
their  departure  for  Aquitaine,  I  heard  an  ancient  knight,  in 
conversation  with  some  ladies,  say,  "We  have  a  book  called 
Brut,  that  declares  neither  the  prince  of  Wales,  dukes  of 
Clarence,  York,  nor  Gloucester,  will  be  kings  of  England,  but 
the  descendants  of  the  duke  of  Lancaster."  Now  I,  the  author 
of  this  history,  say  that,  considering  all  things,  these  two 
knights,  sir  Richard  de  Pontchardon,  and  sir  Bartholomew 
Burghersh,  in  what  they  said,  were  both  in  the  right,  for  all  the 
world  saw  Richard  reign  for  twenty-two  years  in  England,  and 
saw  the  crown  then  fall  to  the  house  of  Lancaster.  King  Henry 
would  never  have  been  king,  on  the  conditions  you  have  heard, 
if  his  cousin,  Richard,  had  treated  him  in  the  friendly  manner 
he  ought  to  have  done.  The  Londoners  took  his  part  for  the 
wrongs  the  king  had  done  him  and  his  children,  whom  they 
much  compassioned. 

When  the  funeral  car  of  king  Richard  had  remained  in 
Cheapside  two  hours,  it  was  conducted  forward,  in  the  same 
order  as  before,  out  of  the  town.  The  four  knights  then 
mounted  their  horses,  which  were  waiting  for  them,  and  con- 


26o  FROISSART. 

tinned  their  journey  with  the  body  until  they  came  to  a  villag^e, 
where  there  is  a  royal  mansion,  called  Langley,  thirty  miles 
from  London.  There  king  Richard  was  interred :  God  pardon 
his  sins,  and  have  mercy  on  his  soul! 


It  may  be  fitting  here  to  reproduce  a  very  interesting  passage 
— written  towards  the  close  of  Froissart's  life — in  which,  after 
speaking  of  the  ill-starred  Edward  II.,  he  expresses  his  opinion 
of  the  English  people.  I  translate  from  the  latest  version  of 
part  of  the  First  Book — a  version  preserved  to  us  in  a  MS. 
at  Rome,  and  collated  with  the  earlier  versions  by  the  late  M. 
Simeon  Luce.     (See  Introduction.) 

"And  because  his  son,  named  Edw^ard,  had  not  the  sanie 
honour  and  success  in  arms  (as  his  father,  Edward  I.) — for 
all  neither  are,  nor  can  be,  graced  with  high  virtues — he  fell 
under  the  hatred  and  indignation  of  his  people ;  but  they  did 
not  bring  him  to  account  for  his  secret  follies  till  he  had  caused 
great  evils,  and  perpetrated  bloody  executions  among  the 
nobles  of  his  kingdom.  The  English  w-ill  suffer  for  a  time, 
but  in  the  end  they  take  such  bloody  payment  as  may  well 
serve  for  an  example ;  nor  can  they  be  played  with.  And  any 
king  who  rules  over  them  must  rise  from  his  bed  and  retire  to 
rest  in  great  peril,  for  never  wnll  they  love  or  honour  him  if  he 
is  not  victorious,  and  if  he  does  not  love  arms,  and  warring 
against  his  neighbours,  and  especially  against  such  as  are 
stronger  and  richer  than  themselves.  And  such  are  their  con- 
ditions, to  which  they  hold,  and  have  always  held,  and  always  will 
hold  so  long  as  England  remains  a  habitable  land.  And  they 
say  generally,  and  experience  has  too  often  justified  the  saying, 
that  after  a  good  king  comes  one  without  valour.  And  they 
regard  him  as  a  sluggard  and  a  sleeper  if  he  will  not  walk  in  \ 

the  ways  of  his  father  or  predecessor,  the  good  king  who  reigned  -; 

before  him.      And  (they  think  that)  their  land  is  more  full  of 
riches  and  all  things  good  when  they  are  at  war,  than  in  times 


i 


FKOISSART.  261 

of  peace.      And  in  this  belief  are  they  born,  and  obstinate,  nor 
could  any  one  induce  them  to  believe  the  contrary. 

"  The  English  are  of  marvellous  conditions,  hot  and  irascible, 
easily  moved  to  anger,  and  with  difficulty  appeased  and  made 
placable;  and  they  delight  and  take  comfort  in  battles  and 
slaughter.  Greatly  are  they  covetous  and  envious  of  other 
people's  goods,  and  cannot  perfectly  and  naturally  enter  into 
alliance  with  any  foreign  nation  ;  and  they  are  perfidious  and 
arrogant.  Especially  there  is  under  the  sun  no  such  dangerous 
people,  the  craftsmen  more  particularly,  as  in  England.  And 
very  great  is  the  diflference  in  England  between  the  natures  and 
conditions  of  the  nobles  and  of  the  artisans  and  villains,  for  the 
gentlemen  are  of  noble  and  loyal  condition,  but  the  common 
people  of  cruel,  dangerous,  arrogant,  and  disloyal  condition. 
And  if  the  people  wished  to  show  its  evilness  and  power,  the 
nobles  would  endure  no  more  than  a  short  space.  But  for  this 
long  time  there  has  been  a  good  understanding  between  them, 
for  the  noble  never  demands  of  the  people  more  than  is  reason- 
able. Indeed  it  would  not  be  allowed  that  he  should  take  an 
^'g'g  or  a  fowl  without  paying  for  it.  The  craftsman  and  the 
labourer  in  England  lives  by  what  he  can  earn,  and  the  gentle- 
man by  his  rents  and  revenues; — and  if  the  king  employs  them, 
they  are  paid ; — nor  can  the  king  tax  his  people,  no  nor  would 
the  people  suffer  it.  There  are  certain  ordinances  and  agree- 
ments established  with  regard  to  the  staple  of  the  wools,  and 
with  the  produce  of  these  the  king  is  subsidised  beyond  his 
rents  and  revenues ;  and  when  he  goes  to  war  this  subsidy  is 
doubled.  England  is  the  best  guarded  country  in  the  world. 
Otherwise  it  neither  would  nor  could  maintain  itself;  and  well 
it  behoves  the  king,  who  is  their  ruler,  to  order  himself  after  the 
(people's)  wish,  and  to  incline  in  most  things  to  their  will ;  for 
if  he  does  the  contrary,  and  evil  ensue,  he  shall  suffer  for  it, 
as  did  this  king  Edward,  of  whom  I  am  now  speaking.  .  .  ." — 
Editor's  Note. 


THE  WALTER  SCOTT  I^RESS,    NEWCASTLE-ON-TYNE. 


THE  WORLD'S  LITERARY   MASTERPIECES. 

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2  THO READ'S  WALDEN.     WITH  INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

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4  THOREAU'S     ESSAYS.       EDITED,     WITH     AN    INTRO- 

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5  CONFESSIONS  OF  AN   ENGLISH   OPIUM-EATER,  ETC. 

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6  LANDOR'S  IMAGINARY  CONVERSATIONS.    SELECTED, 

with  Introduction,  by  Havelock  Ellis. 

7  PLUTARCH'S     LIVES    (LANGHORNE).      WITH    INTRO- 

ductory  Note  by  B.  J.  SneU,  M.A. 

8  BROWNE'S    RELIGIO     MEDICI,    ETC.      WITH    INTRO- 

duction  by  J.  Addington  Symonds. 

9  SHELLEY'S   ESSAYS  AND    LETTERS.     EDITED,    WITH 

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10  SWIFT'S  PROSE  WRITINGS.   CHOSEN  AND  ARRANGED, 

with  Introduction,  by  Walter  Lewin. 

11  MY  STUDY  WINDOWS.     BY  JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL. 

With  Introduction  by  R.  Garnett,  LL.D. 

12  LOWELL'S  ESSAYS   ON  THE  ENGLISH  POETS.     WITH 

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13  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.     BY  JAMES  RUSSELL  LOWELL. 

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i6  LEIGH  HUNT'S  ESSAYS.     WITH  INTRODUCTION  AND 
Notes  by  Arthur  Symons. 

17  LONGFELLOW'S     "HYPERION,"    ''KAVANAGH,"    AND 

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18  GREAT    MUSICAL    COMPOSERS.       BY    G.    F.    FERRIS. 

Edited,  with  Introduction,  by  Mrs.  William  Sharp. 

19  THE  MEDITATIONS  OF  MARCUS  AURELIUS.      EDITED 

by  Alice  Zimmem. 

20  THE  TEACHING  OF  EPICTETUS.     TRANSLATED  FROM 

the  Greek,  with  Introduction  and  Notes,  by  T.  W.  BoUeston. 

21  SELECTIONS  FROM   SENECA     WITH  INTRODUCTION 

by  Walter  Clode. 

22  SPECIMEN  DAYS  IN  AMERICA.     BY  WALT  WHITMAN. 

Revised  by  the  Author,  with  fresh  Preface. 

23  DEMOCRATIC    VISTAS,    AND     OTHER    PAPERS.       BY 

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24  WHITE'S   NATURAL  HISTORY  OF   SELBORNE.     WITH 

a  Preface  by  Richard  Jeflferies. 

25  DEFOE'S     CAPTAIN     SINGLETON.        EDITED,     WITH 

Introduction,  by  H.  Halliday  Sparling. 

26  MAZZINI'S     ESSAYS :     LITERARY,     POLITICAL,     AND 

Religious.    With  Introduction  by  William  Clarke. 

27  PROSE  WRITINGS  OF  HEINE.     WITH  INTRODUCTION 

by  Havelock  Ellis. 

28  REYNOLDS'S     DISCOURSES.      WITH     INTRODUCTION 

by  Helen  Zimmem. 

29  PAPERS    OF     STEELE    AND    ADDISON.      EDITED    BY 

Walter  Lewin. 

30  BURNS'S     LETTERS.       SELECTED     AND     ARRANGED, 

with  Introduction,  by  J.  Logie  Robertson,  M.A. 

31  VOLSUNGA    SAGA.      William   Morris.      WITH     INTRO- 

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32  SARTOR  RESARTUS.      BY  THOMAS   CARLYLE.     WITH 

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33  SELECT    WRITINGS    OF     EMERSON.       WITH     INTRO- 

duction  by  PerciTal  Chabb. 

34  AUTOBIOGRAPHY     OF     LORD     HERBERT.       EDITED, 

with  an  Introduction,  by  Will  H.  Dircks. 

35  ENGLISH      PROSE,      FROM     MAUNDEVILLE     TO 

Thackeray.    Chosen  and  Edited  by  Arthur  Galton. 

36  THE  PILLARS  OF  SOCIETY,  AND  OTHER  PLAYS.     BY 

Henrik  Ibsen.     Edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Uavelock  Ellis. 

37  IRISH     FAIRY    AND     FOLK    TALES.       EDITED     AND 

Selected  by  W.  B.  Yeats. 

38  ESSAYS     OF     DR.     JOHNSON,    WITH     BIOGRAPHICAL 

Introduction  and  Notes  by  Stuart  J.  Reid. 

39  ESSAYS     OF    WILLIAM     HAZLITT.      SELECTED     AND 

Edited,  with  Introduction  and  Notes,  by  Frank  Carr. 

40  LANDOR'S  PENTAMERON,  AND  OTHER  IMAGINARY 

Conversations.     Edited,  with  a  Preface,  by  H.  Ellis. 

41  POE'S   TALES  AND   ESSAYS.     EDITED,   WITH   INTRO- 

duction,  by  Ernest  Rhys. 

12  VICAR    OF  WAKEFIELD.      BY    OLIVER    GOLDSMITH. 
Edited,  with  Preface,  by  Ernest  Rhys. 

«  POLITICAL     ORATIONS,      FROM     WENTWORTH      TO 
Macaulay.    Edited,  with  Introduction,  by  William  Clarke. 

^4  THE    AUTOCRAT    OF    THE    BREAKFAST- TABLE.      BY 
Oliver  Wendell  Holmes. 

45  THE  POET  AT  THE  BREAKFAST-TABLE.     BY  OLIVER 

Wendell  Holmes. 

46  THE   PROFESSOR  AT    THE    BREAKFAST-TABLE.      BY 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes. 

47  LORD     CHESTERFIELD'S     LETTERS     TO     HIS     SON. 

Selected,  with  Introduction,  by  Charles  Sayle. 

48  STORIES  FROM  CARLETON.   SELECTED,  WITH  INTRO- 

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50  ELIZABETHAN     ENGLAND.       EDITED     BY     LOTHROP 

Withington,  with  a  Preface  by  Dr.  Furnivall. 

51  THE  PROSE  WRITINGS  OF  THOMAS  DAVIS.     EDITED 

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52  SPENCE'S     ANECDOTES.       A     SELECTION.      EDITED, 

with  an  Introduction  and  Notes,  by  John  Underbill. 

53  MORE'S  UTOPIA,  AND  LIFE  OF  EDWARD  V.     EDITED, 

with  an  Introduction,  by  Maurice  Adams. 

54  SADI'S    GULISTAN,    OR    FLOWER    GARDEN.      TRANS- 

lated,  with  an  Essay,  by  James  Ross. 

55  ENGLISH    FAIRY    AND    FOLK    TALES.       EDITED     BY 

E.  Sidney  Hartland. 

56  NORTHERN    STUDIES.     BY    EDMUND    GOSSE.     WITH 

a  Note  by  Ernest  Rhys. 

57  EARLY  REVIEWS   OF  GREAT  WRITERS.     EDITED    BY 

E.  Stevenson. 

58  ARISTOTLE'S      ETHICS.        WITH      GEORGE      HENRY 

Lewes's  Essay  on  Aristotle  prefixed. 

59  LANDOR'S  PERICLES   AND  ASPASIA.      EDITED,  WITH 

an  Introduction,  by  Havelock  Ellis. 

60  ANNALS   OF  TACITUS.     THOMAS   GORDON^S    TRANS- 

lation.     Edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Arthur  Galtoii. 

61  ESSAYS    OF    ELIA.      BY    CHARLES    LAMB.      EDITED, 

with  an  Introduction,  by  Eniest  Rhys. 

62  BALZAC'S     SHORTER     STORIES.        TRANSLATED     BY 

William  Wilson  and  the  Count  Stenbock. 

63  COMEDIES     OF    DE     MUSSET.       EDITED,    WITH     AN 

Introductory  Note,  by  S.  L.  Gwynn. 

64  CORAL    REEFS.      BY    CHARLES     DARWIN.      EDITED, 

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65  SHERIDAN'S     PLAYS.       EDITED,     WITH     AN     INTRO- 

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66  OUR  VILLAGE.     BY  MISS   MITFORD.      EDITED,  WITH 

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67  MASTER  HUxMPHREY'S  CLOCK,  AND  OTHER  STORIES 

By  Charles  Dickens.     With  Introduction  by  Prank  T.  Marzials. 

68  OXFORD    MOVEMENT,    THE.      BEING    A    SELECTION 

from  "  Tracts  for  the  Times."     Edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by  William 
G.  Hutchison. 

69  ESSAYS  AND  PAPERS  BY  DOUGLAS  JERROLD.    EDITED 

by  Walter  Jerrold. 

70  VINDICATION     OF    THE    RIGHTS     OF    WOMAN.       BY 

Mary  WolUtonecraft.     Introduction  by  Mrs.  E.  Robins  Pennell. 

71  "THE  ATHENIAN  ORACLE."     A  SELECTION.     EDITED 

by  John  Underbill,  with  Prefatory  Note  by  Walter  Besant. 

72  ESSAYS      OF     SAINTE-BEUVE.       TRANSLATED     AND 

Edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Elizabeth  Lee. 

73  SELECTIONS  FROM  PLATO.   FROM  THE  TRANS- 

lation  of  Sydenham  and  Taylor.     Edited  by  T.  W.  Rolleston. 

74  HEINE'S  ITALIAN  TRAVEL  SKETCHES,  ETC.     TRANS- 

lated  by  Elizabeth  A.  Sharp.    With  an  Introdaction  from  the  French  of 
Theophile  Gautier. 

75  SCHILLER'S     MAID     OF     ORLEANS.        TRANSLATED, 

with  an  Introduction,  by  Major-General  Patrick  Maxwell. 

76  SELECTIONS  FROM  SYDNEY  SMITH.     EDITED,  WITH 

an  Introduction,  by  Ernest  Rhys. 

77  THE  NEW  SPIRIT.     BY  HAVELOCK  ELLIS. 

78  THE  BOOK   OF   MARVELLOUS  ADVENTURES.     FROM 

the  "  Morte  d' Arthur."     Edited  by  Ernest  Rhys.    [This,  together  with 
No.  1,  forms  the  complete  "Morte  d'Arthur."] 

79  ESSAYS  AND  APHORISMS.      BY  SIR   ARTHUR  HELPS. 

With  an  Introduction  by  E.  A.  Helps. 

80  ESSAYS      OF     MONTAIGNE.       SELECTED,     WITH     A 

Prefatory  Note,  by  Perciyal  Chubb. 

81  THE  LUCK  OF  BARRY  LYNDON.   BY  W.  M. 

Thackeray.    Edited  by  F.  T.  Marzials. 

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an  Introduction,  by  Major-General  Patrick  MaxweU. 

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83  CARLYLE'S     ESSAYS     ON     GERMAN      LITERATURE. 

With  an  Introduction  by  Ernest  Rhya. 

84  PLAYS  AND  DRAMATIC  ESSAYS  OF  CHARLES  LAMR 

Edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Rudolf  Dircks. 

85  THE    PROSE    OF    WORDSWORTH.       SELECTED    AND 

Edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Professor  William  Knight. 

86  ESSAYS,    DIALOGUES,   AND   THOUGHTS    OF   COUNT 

Giacomo  Leopardi.    Translated 
Major-Oenerai  Patrick  Maxwell. 


Giacomo  Leopardi.    Translated,  with  an  Introduction  and  Notes,  by 
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87  THE    INSPECTOR-GENERAL.      A    RUSSIAN    COMEDY. 

By  Nikolai  V,  GogoL    Translated  from  the  original,  with  an  Introduction 
and  Notes,  by  Arthur  A.  Sykes. 

88  ESSAYS  AND  APOTHEGMS  OF  FRANCIS,  LORD  BACON.. 

Edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by  John  Buchan. 

89  PROSE  OF  MILTON.     SELECTED  AND  EDITED,  WITH 

an  Introduction,  by  Richard  Oamett,  LL.D. 

90  THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO.    TRANSLATED  BY 

Thomas  Taylor,  with  an  Introduction  by  Theodore  Wratislaw. 

91  PASSAGES    FROM    FROISSART.       WITH    AN    INTRO- 

duction  by  Frank  T.  Marzlals. 

92  THE  PROSE  AND  TABLE  TALK  OF  COLERIDGE. 

Edited  by  WUl  H.  Dircks. 

93  HEINE    IN   ART   AND    LETTERS.      TRANSLATED    BY 

Elizabeth  A.  Sharp. 

94  SELECTED    ESSAYS    OF    DE    QUINCEY.       WITH     AN 

Introduction  by  Sir  George  Douglas,  Bart. 

95  VASARI'S  LIVES  OF  ITALIAN  PAINTERS.     SELECTED 

and  Prefaced  by  Havelock  Ellis. 

96  LAOCOON,     AND      OTHER      PROSE     WRITINGS      OF 

LESSING.    A  new  Translation  by  W,  B.  Ronnfeldt. 

97  PELLEAS  AND   MELISANDA,  AND   THE   SIGHTLESS. 

Two  Plays  by  Maurice  Maeterlinck.    Translated  from  the  French  by 
Laurence  Alma  Tadema. 

98  THE  COMPLETE  ANGLER  OF  WALTON  AND  COTTON. 

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99  LESSING'S    NATHAN   THE   WISE.      TRANSLATED    BY 
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loo  THE   POETRY  OF  THE  CELTIC  RACES,  AND  OTHER 
Essays  of  Ernest  Renan.     Translated  by  W.  Q.  Hutchbon. 

loi  CRITICISMS, REFLECTIONS, ANDMAXIMSOFGOETHE. 
Translated,  with  an  Introduction,  by  W.  B.  Bonnfeldt. 

102  ESSAYS     OF    SCHOPENHAUER.         TRANSLATED     BY 

Mrs.  Rudolf  Dircks.     With  an  Introduction. 

103  RENAN'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS.       TRANSLATED,  WITH  AN 

Introduction,  by  William  O.  Hutchison. 

104  THE  CONFESSIONS  OF  SAINT  AUGUSTINE.    EDITED, 

with  an  Introduction,  by  Arthur  Symons. 

105  THE    PRINCIPLES    OF    SUCCESS     IN    LITERATURE. 

By  George  Henry  Lewes.    Edited  by  T.  Sharper  Knowlson. 

106  THE  LIVES  OF  DR.  JOHN  DONNE,  SIR  HENRY  WOTTON, 

Mr.  Richard  Hooker,  Mr,  George  Herbert,  and  Dr.  Robert  Sanderson. 
By  Izaac  Walton.     Edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Charles  Hill  Dick. 

107  POLITICAL      ECONOMY:        EXPOSITIONS      OF      ITS 

Fundamental  Doctrines.      Selected,  with  an  Introduction,  by  W.  B. 
Robertson,  M.A. 

108  RENAN'S     ANTICHRIST.       TRANSLATED,    WITH    AN 

Introduction,  by  W.  G.  Hutchison. 

109  ORATIONS    OF    CICERO.      SELECTED    AND    EDITED, 

with  an  Introduction,  by  Fred.  W.  Norris 

no  REFLECTIONS  ON  THE  REVOLUTION  IN  FRANCE. 
By  Edmund  Burke.     With  an  Introduction  by  George  Sampson. 

Ill  THE  LETTERS  OF  THE  YOUNGER  PLINY.  SERIES  L 
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112  THE  LETTERS  OF  THE  YOUNGER  PLINY.     SERIES  H. 

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113  SELECTED  THOUGHTS  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL.     TRANS- 

lated,  with  an  Introduction  and  Notes,  by  Gertrude  Burford  Rawliugs. 

114  SCOTS  ESSAYISTS:  FROM  STIRLING  TO  STEVENSON. 

Edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Oliphant  Smeaton. 

115  ON   LIBERTY.     BY  JOHN   STUART   MILL.     WITH   AX 

Introduction  by  W.  L.  Courtney. 

116  THE  DISCOURSE  ON  METHOD  AND  METAPHYSICAL 

Meditations  of   Ren^  Descartes.     Translated,  with  Introduction,   by 
Gertrude  B.  Bawlings. 

117  KALIDASA'S   SAKUNTALA,  Etc.     EDITED,  WITH   AN 

Introduction,  by  T.  Holme. 

118  NEWMAN'S  UNIVERSITY  SKETCHES.     EDITED,  WITH 

Introduction,  by  George  Sampson. 

119  NEWMAN'S    SELECT    ESSAYS.      EDITED,    WITH    AN 

introduction,  by  George  Sampson. 

120  RENAN'S  MARCUS  AURELIUS.     TRANSLATED,  WITH 

an  Introduction,  by  William  G.  Hutchison. 

121  FROUDE'S   NEMESIS  OF  FAITH.      WITH   AN   INTRO- 

duction  by  William  G.  Hutchison. 

122  WHAT   IS   ART?     BY  LEO  TOLSTOY.    TRANSLATED 

from  the  Original  Russian  MS.,  with  Introduction,  by  Alymer  Maude. 

123  HUME'S    POLITICAL    ESSAYS.      EDITED,    WITH    AN 

Introduction,  by  W.  B.  Robertson. 


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HOGARTH,  William.     By  Prof.  G.  Baldwin  Brown. 

MOORE,    Henry.     By  Frank  J.  Maclean. 

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WHERE   LOVE  IS,  THERE   GOD 

IS  ALSO. 
THE  TWO  PILGRIMS. 
WHAT  MEN  LIVE  BY. 


THE  GODSON. 

IF    YOU    NEGLECT    THE    FIRE» 

YOU  don't  put   IT  OUT. 
WHAT  SHALL  IT  PROFIT  A  MAN  ? 


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WHERE    LOVE   IS,  THERE  GOD 

IS  ALSO. 
THE  GODSON. 

Volume  II.  contains — 

WHAT   MEN   LIVE   BY. 
WHAT     SHALL     IT     PROFIT     A 
MAN? 


Volume  III.  contains — 

THE  TWO  PILGRIMS. 
IF    YOU    NEGLECT    THE    FIRE, 
YOU  don't  put  IT  OUT. 
Volume  IV.  contains — 

MASTER    AND   MAN. 

Volume  V.  contains — 

TOLSTOY'S   PARABLES. 


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