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From Chronicles of England, France and Spain and the Surrounding Countries, by Sir John Froissart, Translated from the French Editions with Variations and Additions from Many Celebrated MSS, by Thomas Johnes, Esq., Volume II, London: William Smith, 1848. pp. 374-391.
CHAPTER CXXX. — THE BISHOP OF DURHAM MARCHES ON THE MORROW OF THE BATTLE TO THE SCOTS CAMP, BUT RETIRES WITHOUT DARING TO ATTACK IT. — THE SCOTS RETURN TO THEIR OWN COUNTRY.
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 adjacent 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 lodging, he was very melancholy at the unfortunate news he had herd 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 without ever seeing their enemies. — They held a council, and determined to arm themselves by sun-rise, 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 sun-rise they left Newcastle, through the gate leading to Berwick, and followed the road to Otterbourne. 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, 375 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 melancholy thoughts, advanced to meet him, bade him good day, and replied, — “By my faith, Redman, ill luck; for I 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. These they could not carry away with them, on account of the wounded, nor were they willing to leave them behind. They 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, under 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 considerable time, and then ceased. After a pause, when they thought the English were within half a league, they recommenced it, continuing it 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 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 had been taken, readily assented to this request, and had a litter prepared for him. In a similar manner, several knights and squires obtained their liberty, fixing on a time to return in person to those who had captured them, or to send the amount of their ransoms*.
376I 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 handily fought.
When every thing had been arranged, and the dead bodies of the earl of Douglas, sir Robert Hart and sir Simon Glendinning were inclosed 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 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 ere only two children, a boy and a girl. There were enow of the name of Douglas; for I know five handsome brothers, squires, of this name, at the court of king David of Scotland, 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 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 Châteauneuf, 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 from the ransom; 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 Scotland.
We will now leave the English and Scots, and speak of the young king of France, and the large army he marched into Germany to revenge himself on the duke of Gueldres.
* The ransoms were estimated at 200,000 francs. Robert III. granted to Henry Preston, for the redemption of Ralph Percy, the lands and baronies of Frondin, Aberdeenshire, the town of Fyvie, and place thereof, the town of Meikle Gaddies, the five-mark land of Park-hill. Scots [Susan note] Cal. f. 104. — Froissart apparently errs in the name of his captor; yet Mar had 20£. a year for a third of it, the whole of it exceeding 600£. — Pinkerton’s Hist. of Scotland, vol. ii. p. 41. note.
† Earl James Douglas married the lady Isabella Stuart, daughter of king Robert II. and dying without lawful issue, was succeeded by his brother, Archibald lord Galloway, called Archibald the Grim. This last was the issue of earl William’s second marriage with Margaret, daughter of Patrick earl of March. — Crawford’s Peerage of Scotland.
‡ These arms, according to Crawford, must be wrong; for, in his Peerage, the arms are described as “Four coats quarterly; 1. azure, a lion rampant, crowned with an imperial crown, or; 2. or, a lion rampant gules, surmounted of a ribbon sable; 3. or, a fesse cheque, azure and argent, surmounted of a bend sable, charged with five buckles, or; 4. argent, three pyles gules, overall, in a shield of pretence argent, a heart, gules, ensigned with an imperial crown, or, on a chief azure, three mollets of the first, supported on the dexter with a savage, wreathed about the loins with laurel, and on the sinister by a stag proper; crest a salamander vomiting fire; motto, Jamais arriere, all within a compartment of stakes impaled.”
CHAPTER CXXXI. — THE KING OF FRANCE ENTERS THE DUCHY OF LUXEMBOURG, ON HI MARCH TO GUELDRES. — THE DUKE OF JULIERS, FATHER OF THE DUKE OF GUELDRES, MAKES EXCUSES FOR HIS SON TO THE KING OF FRANCE. — HE IS GRACIOUSLY RECEIVED, AND HAS THE TERRITORY OF VIERSON RESTORED TO HIM, FOR WHICH HE PAYS HOMAGE TO THE KING.
WHEN the king of France and his army had crossed the Meuse at the bridge of Morsay*, they took the road to the Ardennes and bishopric of Luxembourg, and had always in advance a large body of pioneers to clear the bushes and level the roads. The king’s army was very numerous, and well appointed. The duke of Juliers and his subjects much dreaded their approach, for they knew they should be first attacked; and the country of Juliers is so level that the men at arms would in one day despoil the whole, excepting a few castles and towns which would perhaps make some little resistance, but they could not hold out long. The king of France entered Luxembourg, and was lodged for two days at the monastery where duke Winceslaus of Brabant had been buried. At his departure, he took the road to Bastogne†, and encamped at the distance of a league from where the duchess of Brabant was lodged. The duchess had notified to the duke of burgundy her arrival at Bastogne, who waited on her, and conducted her to the king’s tent. The king received her very kindly; and, after they had conversed some time together, she returned to Bastogne, escorted by sir John de Vienne and sir Guy de la Tremouille. On the morrow the king continued his march until he arrived on the borders of Germany, ready to enter Juliers. But, before he had advanced so far, Arnold bishop of Liege had waited on him, and had exerted himself much to exculpate the duke of Juliers, and to soften the anger the king of France bore him, as father to the duke of Gueldres; and had said to the king and his uncles, that with regard to the imprudent and outrageous challenge the duke of Gueldres had sent to France, he had never consulted his father on the subject, nor informed him of it until it was done, and therefore his territories ought not to suffer for it.
These excuses, however, were not agreeable to the king nor to his uncles; and it was their intention, that unless the duke of Juliers came in person, and made a more satisfactory apology, putting himself totally in the king’s mercy, he and his country should be the first to pay for it. The bishop of Liege, the barons of Hasbain‡, and the magistrates from the principal towns, who had accompanied the bishop, now offered the king and his uncles a free entrance for their army into their country, to pass and repass, and refresh themselves with provision on paying for it, and to remain there, if they so pleased.
The king and his uncles thanked them for their offer, which they did not refuse, as they were ignorant how affairs would turn out. The bishop returned to the duke of Juliers and archbishop of Cologne, and told them all that had passed, that they might consider of it. The duke of Juliers was very much alarmed lest his country should be ruined, and sent for all those knights that were dependent on him, to have their advice, for the French were daily approaching. — The lord de Coucy commanded the vanguard, of one thousand spears; and with him were the duke of Lorrain and the viscount de Meaux, with about two hundred lances more.
When the French were near the borders of Germany, they marched in a more compact body, and took great precautions in their encampments; for a body of three hundred Linfars§, from the opposite side of the Rhine, had collected together on their line of march. These are the greatest robbers and plunderers in the world; and they hovered alongside the French army, to take advantage of any negligence on their part. The French were suspicious of them, and dared not attempt foraging but in large bodies. I believe the lord Boucicaut, the elder, and sir Lewis de Grach, were made prisoners by them, and carried to Nimeguen. These Germans rode through the by-ways, and, like birds of prey, night and 378 morning fell upon the French wherever they found a favourable opportunity; and this had made them more careful.
When the king of France was come to the confines of Juliers, and the vanguard and foragers had already entered it, the duke, unwilling that his country should be destroyed, listened to the advice of the archbishop of Cologne and bishop of Liege, and consented they should negotiate with the king and his uncles, and entreat that his country should remain in peace, on such terms as I shall mention. These two prelates, having laid the foundation for a peace, conducted the duke of Juliers into the king’s presence, who was attended by his uncles, the duke of Lorrain, and other barons of France of the blood royal, and his council. On the duke’s approaching the king, he cast himself on his knees, and made very handsome excuses for the challenge his son had sent to France. He told the king that his son was a madman; that he had never consulted him respecting this challenge, nor indeed in anything else, but always acted for himself. He offered his services to the king, and said, — “My lord, with your permission, I will go to him, and sharply remonstrate with him on his follies, and order him to come and make his apology to you and to your council. If he refuse to follow my advice, and continued to act from his own headstrong will, I offer to give you possession of all my inclosed towns and castles, for you to garrison with men at arms, and carry on the war against him until he shall submit himself to your mercy.” The king, on this, looked at his brother, his uncles, and council, as it seemed to him, and to many who were present, a very fair offer. He made the duke rise, who had hitherto continued on his knees, and said, — “We will consider what you have offered, and the promises you make us.” The duke, having risen, remained with the two prelates who had brought him thither; and the king retired with his uncles and privy counsellors, to discuss that proposal that had been made them.
This council lasted some time, and various proposition were made, each pressing his different plan. The duke of Burgundy was the most active, as indeed the matter more essentially affected him, on account of his being heir, in right of his duchess, to the succession of the duchess of Brabant, and it was in truth owing to him that the king had undertaken this expedition. He was therefore very anxious that the quarrel should be amicably terminated, and a solid peace established between all parties, that there might not be any necessity for renewing the war; for the distance was great for the king and lords, besides being very expensive, and heavy on the kingdom. After several had given their opinions, he addressed himself to the king, to the duke of Berry, and to all present, saying, — “My lord, and you brother of Berry, and gentlemen of the council, whatever is rashly or inconsiderately begun generally ends badly. We have heard our cousin, the duke of Juliers, excuse himself handsomely, and we have heard the offer he has made, that his son shall do so likewise: he is of that gallantry and birth, being connected with me by blood, that we ought to believe what he has said. He offers to the king his person, his country, his towns, and castles, in case his son shall continue obstinate, and refuse to make any apology for his rash challenge. If we have the duke of Juliers on our side, the duke of Gueldres, whom we want to punish, will be so much the more weakened, that he will the more dread us, and the sooner bend to our will. I therefore advise that the excuses of the duke of Juliers and his offer be accepted, for he has greatly humbled himself; and the archbishop of Cologne, the bishop of Liege, with other potent barons, entreat likewise that this may be done.”
No one making any reply, it was unanimously agreed to; and the archbishop and bishop, who had opened the negotiation, were called in. They were told very minutely every act the duke of Juliers was to swear to perform, if he were desirous that his country should remain in peace. First, that he should go himself, or send to his son, the duke of Gueldres, to remonstrate with him on his folly and impertinence, in sending so unusual and rude a challenge to so powerful a prince as the king of France, and oblige him to come personally and submit himself to the mercy of the king, if he did not satisfactorily excuse himself. Should the duke of Gueldres refuse compliance, through pride and weakness of understanding, and persist in his opinion, then the duke of Juliers was to engage, on his oath, not to afford him the least support, but, on the contrary, to untie himself with his enemies, and to assist the army of the king, which, during the ensuing winter, would be quartered throughout 379 the country of Juliers, in order to be ready to carry on the war against the duke of Gueldres; and all towns and castles, belonging to the duke of Juliers, shall receive, on the most friendly footing, the men at arms of France.
These two prelates, who had been solely called to the council to remonstrate touching these matters with the duke of Juliers, repeated to him what they had heard, adding such weighty reasons, that the duke assented to the terms: indeed, he saw he must do so, if he wished to preserve his country from ruin. He therefore solemnly swore to observe faithfully all the articles of the treaty, and to remain a firm friend to the king and to his uncles, for which his duchy was saved from being despoiled: but forage, of which there was enough, was completely given up to the French. Thus did the duke of Juliers become liege man to the king of France, and paid homage for the territory of Vierson, situated between Blois and Berry. He supped that night with the king: it was on a Thursday; and there were seated at the king’s table, first, the bishop of Liege, the archbishop of Cologne, the king, the duke of Burgundy, the duke of Touraine, the duke of Juliers, and the duke of Bourbon.
* “Morsay.” Q. Mouson, or Mezieres.
† “Bastogne,” or Bastognack, is a small town in the duchy of Luxembourg: it was formerly more considerable, and called the Paris of the Ardennes.
‡ “Hasbain,” — a small territory in the circle of Westphalia; it forms the principal part of the bishopric of Liege.
§ Leichtfertig — vagabonds, freebooters. — ED.
CHAPTER CXXXII. — KING CHARLES VI. QUARTERS HIS ARMY, ON A FRIENDLY FOOTING, IN THE DUCHY OF JULIERS. — A SQUIRE OF AUVERGNE IS MURDERED BY A WOODCUTTER WHOM HE IS LEADING AWAY AS HIS PRISONER.
SUCH was the conclusion of the treaties between the king of France and the duke of Juliers, by which the last enjoyed peace, although the king quartered himself and his army in his duchy, which he found a rich country, and full of every kind of provision. The duke of Juliers went to his son, but not immediately, and in the interval some gallant feats of arms were done; for the Germans were so eager of gain, that they frequently, during the night, or at very early morn, beat up the quarters of the French: sometimes they got the advantage, at other times they were made prisoners; but for on e German that was taken they made four Frenchmen prisoners in return. In consequence, the constable of France, the lord de Coucy, the duke of Lorrain, the marshal de Blainville, sir John de Vienne, and the lord de la Tremouille, assembled their men, to the amount of about four thousand men at arms, and marched toward a town in Gueldres called Remogne*, and drew up in handsome array before it. At this time the duke of Gueldres was within it, and thought highly of their appearance; but he made no sally against them, for his force was not equal to attempt it, which vexed him much. The French men-at-arms remained four hours drawn up in order of battle before the place; but when they saw that none came out to oppose them, they retreated to their quarters.
It happened that this same evening several knights and squires assembled at the lodgings of the duke of Berry, with the intent of making an excursion on the morrow into the enemy’s country in search of adventures. They each, to the amount of about one hundred lances, pledged themselves to this; but, when the morning came, the project was broken off. A squire from Auvergne, called Gourdinois, a valiant man at arms, and serving under the banner of the lord d’Alégre, finding this excursion laid aside, was much vexed thereat; and, speaking of it to some of his companions of as good courage as himself, they collected about thirty spears, and rode out that morning, but met with no adventure. Gourdinois was so desirous of feats of arms, that he felt sorely the disappointment of returning without having struck a blow, and said to his companions, — “Do you ride on gently, while I and my page will skirt this wood, to see if there be any ambuscades, or any persons within it, and wait for me at the foot of yonder hill.” Having assented to this, Gourdinois and his page left them, and rode alongside the wood. They had not advanced far, when he heard some one whistle: he instantly stuck spurs into his horse, and came to a hollow road, where he found a Guelderlander squaring timber. Gourdinois seized his spear, and charged the man full 380 gallop, to his great astonishment, and made signs to him to follow him; for he said to himself, — “At least, I shall show to my companions, that I have done something by making this man my prisoner, and he may be of some use to us in our quarters.”
He now set out on his return, riding on a small hackney, followed by the woodman on foot, with a large axe on his shoulder with which he had been working. The page of Gourdinois was behind mounted on his courser, bearing his helmet and dragging his lance, half asleep from having left his bed too early. The German, who knew not whither he was going, nor what might be done to him, thought he might as well attempt to escape: he therefore advanced close to Gourdinois, and with his uplifted axe smote him such a blow on the head as split his skull to the teeth, and laid him dead on the ground. The page, from his distance and sleepiness, neither saw nor heard anything of the matter; and the peasant ran to hide himself in the wood, from which he was not far off. Those who heard of this unfortunate accident were much distressed; for Gourdinois was well beloved by all who knew him, particularly by his countrymen in Auvergne, for he was the man at arms most dreaded by the English, and the person who had done them the most mischief. He would never have been suffered to remain a prisoner, though twenty thousand francs had been asked for his ransom.
We will now return to the duke of Juliers.
* “Remogne.” Q.
CHAPTER CXXXIII. — THE DUKE OF JULIERS AND ARCHBISHOP OF COLOGNE LEAVE THE KING OF FRANCE, AND GO TO THE DUKE OF GUELDRES AT NIMEGUEN. — BY THEIR REMONSTRANCES AND NEGOTIATIONS, HE OBTAINS PEACE WITH THE KING OF FRANCE AND DUCHESS OF BRABANT.
YOU have before heard how the duke of Juliers made his peace with the king of France, through the mediation of the two prelates already mentioned and the duke of Lorrain his cousin, who had taken great pains in the business, and had gone to seek him in the town of Atdeke*, whence he had brought him, with the archbishop of Cologne, to a conference with the king of France and his uncles. The duke had then promised to oblige his son, the duke of Gueldres, to submit himself to the king, otherwise he was to unite with the king in his war against him. These terms he was forced to comply with, or his duchy would have been destroyed.
The duke of Juliers, having made his preparations, set out with the archbishop of Cologne for Gueldres, and, having crossed the river Waal, arrived at Nimeguen, where the duke of Gueldres then resided. He received them most affectionately, as was but right, for what tie is nearer than that of father or mother? He had before heard that the duke of Juliers had made his peace with the king of France, which was not very pleasing to him, but he had no occasion to show his dislike to it. The duke of Juliers and the archbishop remonstrated with him for some time on the situation he and his country were in. At first he paid not any attention; for he had so strongly connected himself with the king of England he could not immediately break it off, nor had he any inclination so to do, for his heart was devoted to the English. He argued the matter with them obstinately, declaring he would abide the event; and if, from the arrival of the king of France with an army, he should suffer any loss, he was young and might at other times revenge himself on France or on the Brabanters their allies; adding, that in war the chances are uncertain, and no prince can undertake one without expecting loss as well as gain.
This language greatly enraged the duke of Juliers, who said, “William, how will you carry on this war? and from whom do you expect compensation for your losses?” — “The king of England and his power,” replied he; “and I am very much astonished I have had no intelligence of their fleet; for if they had kept their engagement, by which they were to come hither, I would more than once have beaten up the French quarters.” — “Do you wait 39 for them, William?” asked the duke of Juliers. “The English have so much on their hands at this moment, they cannot give you any assistance. There is our cousin, the duke of Lancaster, at Bayonne, who ahs left Castille with the shattered remains of his army, having lost the greater part by sickness, and by that the season for making war. He is soliciting reinforcements of men at arms and archers from England, but will not obtain twenty spears. On the other hand, the English have lately experienced a severe overthrow in battle with the Scots near Newcastle on Tyne, in Northumberland, in which all the chivalry of the north have been made prisoners or slain. England, besides, is not unanimous in their affection to the king: you will therefore act wisely not to depend on the English at this moment, for you will not have assistance from them, nor from any other quarters. I would therefore advise that you suffer us to manage for you and we will pacify the king of France, and make up this quarrel without your being dishonoured or a loser from it.” “My lord,” answered the duke of Gueldres, “how can I with honour accommodate my difference with the king of France? were I to have my country ruined and be forced to go and live elsewhere, I would not do it; I am too strongly bound to the king of England; and for him have I defied the king of France. Do you think,” added he, “that for his menaces I will recall my word or break my engagement? You only wish my disgrace. I entreat you, therefore, to leave me to myself: I will make head against the French, for their threats do not alarm me. The rain, wind, and cold weather will make war for me; and before the month of January be arrived, they will be so tired and worn down, that the boldest among them will wish to be at home.”
Neither the duke of Juliers nor the archbishop of Cologne could, at this first interview, prevail on the duke of Gueldres to change his resolution, though they were six days labouring at it, and daily in council. At length the duke of Juliers, finding his arguments of no avail, was so angry, as to say to him, “That if he did not pay more attention to his advice, he would displease him greatly, insomuch that he should never inherit one foot of his duchy of Juliers, which he would dispose of to another, who should be powerful enough to defend it against him,” adding, “that none but a fool refused counsel.” The duke of Gueldres, seeing his father inflamed with passion, replied by way of softening matters, — “Advise me then how with honour I may act; and since you desire it, from my love to you, I will pay attention to it; for I assuredly owe you all obedience, and shall never in that be wanting.” — “Now,” said the duke of Juliers, “You speak well and to the purpose, and we will consider the matter.”
It was then determined, after many and long consultations, that the duke of Gueldres should wait on the king of France, and pay him the honour and respect befitting so great a prince, and should excuse himself for having sent him such a challenge, in similar words to these, — “My lord, it is very true that a letter, sealed with my signet, was sent into France and delivered to you, in which was contained a challenge drawn up in very outrageous terms, and contrary to such as are generally used in the like cases, when princes or lords defy each other; but this I disavow, as never having been uttered from my mouth, nor written by my commands, as I would be far from defaming your name or rank. For the confirmation of what I now say, and to remove all doubts, I must inform you, that at the desire of my much-redoubted lord, the king of England, and his council, with whom I have entered into very close alliance, I sent to England four of my knights to whim I intrusted my signet, for them to seal whatever might be required of them. They were to write and seal, and not I: so that I never knew the contents of the letter sent to France until it had been sealed. Be pleased, therefore, to accept of this as my apology, for it is the truth. With regard to my oath of allegiance to my redoubted lord, the king of England, I am resolved to adhere to it, and to obey, as far as in me lies, whatever he may command, whether to challenge you, and assembly my forces, wherever he may please, to oppose you or any other prince, except my natural lord, the emperor of Germany; for to him have I personally sworn my homage in the fullest manner. But out of respect and honour to you, and as some recompense for the trouble and charges you have had, in coming to this distance to learn the truth of this challenge, I am willing to swear, and that oath I will punctually keep, that, henceforward, I will never make any war upon you nor your kingdom without having first given you one year’s notice of my intention; 382 and, my lord I hope you will think this sufficient.” The duke of Gueldres replied, that all this he would willingly say; for it did not seem to him to convey anything blameable or dishonourable.
Upon this being settled, the duke of Juliers and the archbishop departed and returned to Juliers, and thence to Endesker†. At a proper season they waited on the king of France, and related to him and his uncles every particular which had passed between them and the duke of Gueldres; and, that the matter might be immediately considered, they added, there could not anything more be obtained from his son. The king of France was so desirous to see his cousin the duke of Gueldres, who had given him such trouble, that he assented to the terms of the treaty. The duke of Burgundy was also anxious that the territories of the duchess of Brabant should remain in peace, and took pains that this treaty should be agreed to, and that the duke of Gueldres, on the strength of it, should come to them. There was also another reason for their consenting to it; winter was approaching, and the nights were already cold and long. The French lords were told that Gueldres was a miserable country to winter in, and they daily received information of losses of knights, squires, and horses, that had been captured by the ambushes of these Linfars.
From all these reasons, matters were so far concluded that the duke of Gueldres came to the French camp, and was introduced by the duke of Juliers his father, the duke of Lorraine his cousin, and the archbishop of Cologne, to the king’s tent. There were present, at this interview, the king’s uncles, his brother the duke of Touraine, the duke of Bar, the count de la Marche, the count de St. Pol, the count dauphin d’Auvergne, the lord de Coucy and the constable of France. On his entrance the duke of Gueldres cast himself on his knees before the king; but I heard that the king made him rise, (in this matter, however, I know nothing but what I learnt from others), and that he boldly excused himself for the challenge, in the terms you have before heard. The king accepted his apology: and he then declared, on his oath, that if he were ever again to challenge or make war on France, he would send notice of it one year beforehand. Thus did Gueldres and Brabant remain in a secure state, and those who had expected the most were the greatest losers.
Everything being now settled, the duke of Gueldres supped with the king of France at his table: and I must say he was much looked at, for the great plague he had given them. These treaties were fairly written and sealed; and, when all was done, the lords took leave of each other: but, before the duke of Gueldres departed, he requested that the prisoners the French had made in this war might be given up, which was agreed to in the manner he desired. The king of France demanded that all prisoners made from him should likewise be set at liberty; but the duke of Gueldres excused himself, saying, — “My lord, that cannot be done; I am a poor man, and when I heard of your march hither, I strengthened myself as much as possible with knights from the other side of the Rhine and elsewhere, agreeing with them that everything they might take should be their own property. It is not possible for me, therefore, to despoil them of what I have given, nor have I the power so to do; and, should I attempt it, they would make war on me. Be pleased, therefore, to let this matter remain as it is, for I cannot remedy it.” The king, perceiving he could not obtain anything more, bore it as well as he could, without adding a word in reply, and comforted himself on the greatness of his power that could enrich so many poor persons. They took leave of each other mutually satisfied, and orders were given for the army to march back to France. It was said, the king would hold the feast of All-saints in the city of Rheims.
I will now say a word of the English fleet.
* “Atdeke.” Q.
† “Endesker.” Q.
CHAPTER CXXXIV. — THE EARL OF ARUNDEL AND HIS FLEET ARE DRIVEN BY STORMS TO LA PALICE, NEAR LA ROCHELLE. — THE LORD LEWIS DE SANCERRE, HAVING HAD INFORMATION OF THIS, CHASES THEM AT SEA, BUT IN VAIN. — THE DUKE OF LANCASTER MARRIES HIS DAUGHTER TO THE HEIR OF CASTILLE.
BEFORE the king of France went to Gueldres, and during the time he was there, the English fleet under the command of the earl of Arundel kept hovering along his coasts, just as the wind drove them, in search of adventures. You must know, that generally from the first of October to All-saints day the weather is stormy; but this year it was unusually so, which shattered the English fleet, and there was no seaman on board, however bold he might be, but was frightened at its violence, which forced the ships to run so any port lest worse might befal them. The earl of Arundel, with twenty-seven other vessels, made for the harbour of la Palice, two leagues distant from la Rochelle, where he anchored: indeed, he was forced so to do, for the wind was contrary and he could not leave it. When news was brought of this to la Rochelle the townsmen were much alarmed, thinking the English intended attacking the place: they closed their gates, and remained guarding them for a day and a half. Intelligence came from la Palice, that the force of the English amounted to no more than twenty-two vessels, driven thither by stress of weather, and desirous only of putting to sea again; that, however, the earl of Arundel, sir Henry Beaumont, sir William Elmham, and upwards of thirty English knights, were there. The Rochellers, on this, consulted how to act; and, having well considered the matter, they said they should not do their duty if they did not march to skirmish with the enemy.
At this period, the lord Lewis de Sancerre, marshal of France, was arrayed and marshalled before the castle of Bouteville, with a large body of the chivalry of Poitou, Saintonge and other parts, and had there inclosed William de Sainte Foix, a Gascon; for all men at arms had not accompanied the king of France, and the lord of Sancerre was lieutenant of the country, from Montpellier to la Rochelle, during the absence of the lord de Coucy with the army in Germany. The Rochellers determined to send information of the arrival of the English to the lord Sancerre, who on hearing it was much rejoiced. He ordered the townsmen to arm six or eight galleys, and to embark on board, for he was on his march to combat the English. — this they did; and sir Lewis broke u his siege and marched away, thinking it would be more to his honor and profit to engage the earl of Arundel and the English knights lying at anchor, than to continue the siege, for he could again return to this at his pleasure.
He came to la Rochelle, followed by a large body of knights and squires. I know not by what means, but the earl of Arundel had information at la Palice, that the marshal of France with a powerful company of knights and squires was marching to attack him. The news was not very agreeable to him; but fortunately the weather had become calm, and he instantly gave orders to weigh anchor and put to sea. This was speedily effected: had they waited longer they would have been surrounded within the haven, and every one of his vessels must necessarily have been taken, for not one could have escaped. The galleys from la Rochelle, fully armed with cannons and other artillery, appeared in sight, steering for la Palice, as the English were under sail. They chased them two leagues, saluting them with their cannon, but dared not follow them further, for fear of the dangers of the sea. They therefore returned to la Rochelle; but the marshal of France was much angered against them, for having been so tardy to inform him of the arrival of the enemy.
The earl of Arundel sailed for the mouth of the Garonne, to repair to Bordeaux; and the siege of Bouteville was put an end to, for William de Sainte Foix, during the time the marshal had gone, as he thought, to fight the English, had provided his castle with all things necessary for a long defence.
We will now return to the duke of Lancaster, and speak of his negotiations with the king of Castille and duke of Berry respecting the marriage of his daughter. The king of Castille was desirous of having her for his son, as the means of peace with England. The duke of Berry wished her for himself, being very impatient to marry her. The duke of Lancaster 384 was wise and prudent; he saw that the most advantageous alliance for himself and for his country was Castille, in preference to the duke of Berry; for by it he should receive the inheritance of Castille for his daughter, in times to come. If he gave her to the duke of Berry, and he should die before her, she would be poor in comparison with other ladies; for the duke had children by his first marriage, who would be entitled to all his landed property. The duchess of Lancaster was likewise more inclined to the connexion with Castille, so that when sir Helion de Lignac had left the duke, on his return to the duke of Berry in Germany, the commissioners from the king of Castille came forward, and pushed the matter so warmly, that the marriage was agreed and sworn to, between the lady Catherine and the son of the king of Castille. Proper contracts were drawn up and sealed, with covenants to prevent any danger of breaking the match; and the duchess consented, when the whole should be concluded, to conduct her daughter into Castille.
CHAPTER CXXXV. — THE KING OF FRANCE, WHILE ON THE FRONTIERS OF JULIERS, HAS PART OF HIS CAMP SURPRISED, AND SEVERAL PRISONERS MADE, BY SOME GERMAN PILLAGERS. — THE KING, BEING TWENTY-ONE YEARS OF AGE, TAKES ON HIMSELF THE GOVERNMENT OF HIS KINGDOM. — HE SENDS TO THE KING OF CASTILLE, ON HEARING OF THE MARRIAGE OF HIS SON WITH THE DAUGHTER OF THE DUKE OF LANCASTER, TO REMONSTRATE WITH HIM NOT TO ENTER INTO AN TREATIES THAT MAY BE PREJUDICIAL TO HIM OR TO HIS KINGDOM.
THE king of France was still on the borders of Juliers, (for you have heard on what grounds peace had been made between him and the dukes of Juliers and Gueldres) though on his march with the army back to France, when, one clear moon-light night, as they were encamped on the confines of Germany, some German robbers, who would never accept of any terms of peace, made, about midnight, an attack on the French. These men were under the lord de Blanquenemen and sir Peter de Aremberg, and came will mounted, to observe where they could make the severest attack on the camp. They passed the quarters of the viscount de Meaux, but found him and his men on their guard; and, having gone backward and forward without saying a word, they returned, to give an account to their leaders, at their ambuscade, of what they had seen. Shortly after, a large body of these Germans made an irruption on the French camp, overthrowing I know not how many, and making fourteen men at arms prisoners. The lord de la Vieville and the lord de Montkarel were among the number, in consequence of great neglect in not having placed sufficient guards. When it was known, on the morrow, that these two lords were made prisoners, the army were much vexed at it, and ever afterwards were more attentive to their guards.
When the king left Juliers, none of the garrisons remained behind: sir William de la Tremouille and sir Gervais de Merande joined him, and the Brabanters retired to their own homes. While on the march, and immediately on the king’s return to France, it was determined, by great deliberation of the council, that the king who had since the death of his father been under the management of his uncles, should now take on himself the government of the kingdom, which his uncles must resign into his hands, as they had enough to do elsewhere, and the king had now entered his twenty-first year. When this was made public, it gave universal satisfaction.
I believe the king, with his uncles and brother, kept the feast of All-saints at Rheims; and that there they first heard of peace being made between the king of Castille and duke of Lancaster, and of the marriage of the lady Catherin with the infant. The king of France laughed and joked much with his uncle, the duke of Berry, saying, — “Fair uncle, you have failed in your intended marriage, for another has seized the lady you meant for your bride. What do you say to this? How does your courage stand?” The duke good-humouredly replied, — “My lord, if I have been disappointed in this, I will address myself elsewhere.”
Those present began to murmur about this marriage, and to say, it had not been concluded without some treaties of alliance having been formed which might be very prejudicial hereafter 385 to France; “for,” added some who seemed to be fully aware of the consequences, “should England, Castille, and Portugal unite, and make war upon us, they would be enabled to do us very serious mischief by sea and land. It will be right for the king of France to send some discreet person to prevent this wicked king, who has thus connected himself with a dead man, (for the duke of Lancaster has neither money nor men) from entering into any treaties without the consent of the council of France; otherwise to say, the king would reduce him to the state of the lowest varlet with the same ease with which he had raised him to his present state; for at this moment he has no ally strong enough to support him. A war with Castille would now come very opportunely; and, after dethroning this wicked king, the son of a bastard, the king might bestow the crown on his brother, the duke of Touraine, who is not over rich: he would govern it wisely, and defend it valiantly. How could this king of Castille think of entering into any treaty whatever with the duke of Lancaster unknown to our king, who has so generously assisted him in his distress; and had it not been for the blood of France, he must have lost his realm. He bargains well, and has now done so; but let it be as we say, and he will be deserted and disgraced; and, in God’s name, let such an envoy be sent thither as will be attended to, and make him feel how very ill he has behaved.”
These murmurings increased so much that the king, his uncles, and council, deliberated whom they should send to remonstrate with the king of Castille, that he enter not, at his peril, into treaties with the duke of Lancaster and the English any way detrimental the crown of France. If he had done so, or intended it, he was to be told, that the power of France would debase him as much, if not more than it had exalted him, and that the king and his country would not attend to any other thing before they had completed his destruction. It was long debated who would be the properest person to send thither; for it was agreed it should be some one of courage and well spoken, as it would be fruitless sending simple persons on such a message. Three were named: the lord de Coucy, sir John de Vienne, admiral of France, and sir Guy de la Tremouille, and either of these three would be fully qualified to go to Castille. Having considered all things, they chose sir John de Vienne*; and it was told him, on the part of the king and his council, — “Admiral, make your preparations for a journey to Castille; you will have no other than credential letters, for it is enough that you are master of the subject on which you are sent. Tell the king of Castille to read or have read to him all the treaties of alliance, and promises of friendship, which have been formed and sworn to between the two crowns; and remember well all the answers you may receive from him or his ministers on this subject, that we may regulate our conduct accordingly.” All this, the admiral said, he would studiously attend to. The admiral was not long in making preparations for his journey, and, having taken leave of the king and his uncles, left Paris, taking the road towards Burgundy; for he was desirous of visiting the pope and his brother at Avignon, which he did.
We will now for a while leave him, and say something of Geoffry Tête-noire and the siege of Ventadour in which he was inclosed; but we must first speak of the duke of Berry, whose impatience to marry again was shown within the year, when he took himself a wife of whom I shall speak, and say who she was, and where he was married.
* According to Lopez d’Ayala, Moler de Mauny, the king’s chamberlain, was joined in commission with sir John de Vienne. — ED.
CHAPTER CXXXVI. — THE DUKE OF BERRY, BEING DISAPPOINTED IN HIS MARRIAGE WITH THE DAUGHTER OF THE DUKE OF LANCASTER, SENDS TO THE COUNT DE FOIX TO DEMAND THE DAUGHTER OF THE COUNT DE BOULOGNE, WHOM HE HAD IN WARDSHIP.
THE duke of Berry, having been disappointed in marrying the daughter of the duke of Lancaster, was told that the count de Boulogne had a beautiful daughter called Jane, by the lady Eleanor de Comminges; that she was not with her father nor mother, but in the country of Béarn with his good friend and cousin the count de Fox; that she had been educated by the count, in his castle of Orthès, for the space of nine years, and he had the 386 wardship of all her property; and that the father and mother had not any way interfered since she had been under the care of the count, nor had the young lady cost them anything; that she had been often demanded in marriage, but the count de Foix had turned a deaf ear, saying, she was yet too young, and in particular by sir Bernard, brother to the count d’Armagnac, who had repeatedly pressed the matter, promising, on the accomplishment of this marriage, to put an end to his war on Béarn and his claims on that country. Notwithstanding these fair promises, the count would not listen to him, but said that his cousin was too young. He gave, however, other reasons to his confidential friends, and said to sir Espaign du Lyon, — “These Armagnacs must think me a great fool, when they ask me to consent to my destruction. If I give them my cousin, I shall add to their strength and weaken myself. They already withhold from her by force her inheritance, in right of her mother, of Comminges; for the count de Boulogne is as nobody to oppose them.”
When the count d’Armagnac and his brother, sir Bernard, found they could not succeed, they spoke to the duke of Berry, during the life of their aunt, his first duchess, that it would be a good match for his son John of berry. The duke, in consequence, had sent properly qualified persons to the count de Foix in Béarn, to entreat that all former animosities might be forgiven and forgotten, and that he would consent to the marriage of his cousin and ward with his son John; for that the count de Boulogne, her father, was very well satisfied that it should take place.
The count entertained the envoys handsomely, but excused himself for no complying with their demand, as the lady was too young; and because he had most solemnly promised and sworn to the countess her mother, when she delivered her into his hands, that he would never betroth her to any person whatever without her knowledge. He would therefore keep his oath, and no one ought to attempt to make him break it. These were the excuses the count made; for he knew well that his cousin, the countess of Comminges, who resided with her brother, the count d’Urguel, in Arragon, would never consent to her daughter’s marriage with any one connected with the Armagnacs.
Teh ambassadors from the duke of Berry returned, therefore, unsuccessfully; and in their absence the count de Fox said, (as I learnt from sir Espaign du Lyon) — “The duke of Berry and his advisers must think me very weak and ignorant, when they propose that I should reinforce my enemies. John of Berry is cousin to my adversaries, the Armagnacs: this match I will never consent to, and had much rather marry her in England; and I have already had proposals from Henry of Lancaster, son to the duke of Lancaster. If I were not afraid of too much angering the king of France, no one else should have my cousin. At this moment I know not how to act; but I will marry her to my own satisfaction, to prevent any of the Armagnacs having her against my will; for, as the whole depends on my determination, I have no occasion to be melancholy, or to be very anxious on this subject.
When the duke of Berry knew for certain that the duke of Lancaster intended marrying his daughter with the infant of Castille, and that there were no hopes of breaking it off, he was so pensive and melancholy for five or six days, that those of his nearest relatives inquired the cause of it. Having opened his mind to them, and complained of his disappointment, his council replied, — “Sir, if you have failed with the lady Catherine of Lancaster, you may be more successful in another quarter, with the daughter of a great lord, and who, in due time, will be a considerable heiress, though at this moment she is a little young for your time of life; and I know not if the count de Foix will not on this account refuse his consent.” “Is she the daughter of the count de Boulogne?” asked the duke. “Yes, my lord.” “In God’s name,” replied the duke, “let us make the trial.”
It was not long after this before he wrote to the count de Foix to signify to him, in the most friendly manner, that he would send to him four knights of high quality, such as the count de Sancerre, the lord de la Riviere, sir Guy de la Tremouille, and the viscount d’Assy, to treat with him for his ward, the daughter of the count de Boulogne, in marriage; and these lords were of such importance, as to justify him in putting implicit faith in them; but he begged of him to send a speedy answer to this letter, that these knights might not undertake a commission that would be unsuccessful. The count de Foix received handsomely the 387 messengers who brought this letter, and wrote back by them to the duke of Berry, that he was very happy in the proposals he had made, and was ready to receive the four knights either in Foix or in Béarn; but that the consent of the count and countess de Boulogne must first be had.
The duke of Berry was well pleased on receiving such an answer, and negotiated with one and another, during the winter, that his marriage might take place in the course of the summer. The business, notwithstanding, was not so soon accomplished; for the duke of Berry knew well that the count de Foix was not a person to act hastily, and that there would be many questions and replies before the matter could be expected to be brought to a conclusion. He therefore prudently carried on the treaty, by sending special messengers to pope Clement, who was nearly related to the young lady. The pope was rejoiced at hearing his cousin would be so highly connected as with the duke of berry, uncle to the king of France; and he wrote, in consequence, to the count de Foix, to notify to him in an honourable manner, that he would not on any account this proposal should be rejected, for their families would be made by it. The count de Foix received letters from all quarters; for he could, on such occasions, well dissemble his real sentiments, and yet retain the affections of all, the pope as well as the duke of Berry; but there were none so wise among them, that knew what were the count’s real feelings.
We will now leave this matter, and return to the siege of Ventadour.
CHAPTER CXXXVII. — GEOFFRY TETE-NOIRE IS WOUNDED IN THE HEAD, AT A SKIRMISH, AND COMMITS EXCESSES WHICH CAUSE HIS DEATH. — HE MAKES A WILL, AND SUBSTITUTES TWO GOVERNORS OF VENTADOUR IN HIS ROOM.
YOU have before heard how sir William de Lignac and sir John Bonne-lance, with many knights and squires from Auvergne and Limousin, had besieged the castle of Ventadour, and Geoffry Tête-noire within it. It was so strong, that it could not be taken by storm; and he laid in such stores of all things, as to secure a sufficiency for seven or eight years, without anything new begin added. The besiegers, who had surrounded it with blockhouses, came at times to skirmish at the barriers; and it happened that, at once of these, Geoffry Tête-noire advanced so far that he was struck on the head by a bolt from a cross-bow, which passed through the helmet and cap underneath, and wounded him so severely as to occasion him to be carried to his bed. His companions were much vexed at this, and, during the time he was in this state, all skirmishing ceased. Had he taken proper care of himself, he would have soon been cured of this wound; but he indulged himself in many excesses, particularly in fornication, for which he paid dearly enough by his death. He was warned of the consequences of this conduct, and told that he was in so dangerous a condition, (the wound having become an imposthume) that it was necessary he should settle his affairs. He did, and made his will in the way I shall relate.
He ordered the principal persons of his garrison, and those who had been the most used to arms, in to his presence; and when they were come, he said to them, sitting up in his bed, — “My fair sirs, and companions in arms, I know I am in great danger of death: we have been a long time together, and I have been a loyal captain to you all, to the utmost of my power; I should wish, therefore to see, before I quit this world, my successor appointed, who would gallantly behave himself towards you and defend this castle, which I shall leave plentifully stocked with all necessary things, such as wines, provision, and artillery. I therefore beg you will tell me if you have taken any steps, or have thought of electing any one able to govern and lead you as men at arms ought to be governed and led, for such has been my manner of carrying on the war; and in truth I cared not against whom. I did indeed make it under shadow of the king of England’s name, in preference to any other; but I have always looked for gain and conquest wherever they may be had; and such should ever be the conduct of adventurous companions, who are for deeds of arms and to advance themselves. This country is very fertile; many good compositions have been made with hit, though the French now check them by their war; but this cannot always last, for their 388 Blockhouses and siege must have an end. Now, tell me truly, have any of you thought of the person who is to succeed me?”
The companions remained silent, he again addressed them with the utmost good humour, saying, — “I can easily believe you have had some conversations together on what I have mentioned; and I also, during the time I have been forced to keep my bed, have thought on this matter for you.” — “Sir,” replied they, “we refer the matter to you; and it will be more agreeable if it came from you than from us: you will therefore be pleased to infirm us of your will.” “Yes,” said Geoffry, “I will tell you, and name those I wish to succeed me. Here is Alleyn Roux and his brother Peter, my cousins, who are good men at arms and of my blood: I entreat you, therefore, to accept of Alleyn as your governor, and that you will swear to him, in my presence, loyalty and obedience, as well as to his brother; but I mean that Alleyn should have the sovereign command.” — “Sir,” answered they, “we will cheerfully do so, for you have well chosen.” All the companions then took oaths of obedience to Alleyn Roux, and to his brother Peter. When this was done, Geoffry &Tête-noire again addressed them: “Well, my friends, you have complied with my request, and I thank you for it. Because I wish you should partake of what you have helped me to conquer, I must inform you, that in that chest which you see yonder (pointing to it with his finger), there is a sum of thirty thousand francs. I would acquit my conscience and myself towards those who have faithfully served me; say, therefore, if you will truly fulfil the articles of my will.” Having said they would, he continued: “In the first place, I leave to the chapel of St. George, within our walls, the sum of fifteen hundred francs for repairs and additional buildings. I give to my mistress, who has been faithfully attached to me, two thousand five hundred francs — To Alleyn Roux, your governor, two thousand francs — To my valets-de-chamber, five hundred francs — To my officers, fifteen hundred francs. The surplus I thus dispose of: you are about thirty companions, all engaged in the same enterprise, and you should behave like brothers to each other, without envy, riot, or strife. The sum I have mentioned you will find in the chest: divide it, therefore, among you fairly and honourably, but should the devil get among you, and you cannot agree, here is a well-tempered sharp axe, cut open the chest, and let those who can seize the contents.” To this speech, they unanimously replied, — “Lord and master, we will not disagree. We have so much loved and feared you, we will never break the chest, nor disobey any of the orders you have given us.”
Such as I have related was the last will of Geoffry Tête-noire, who only lived two days more, and was buried in the chapel of Saint George in Ventadour. All his legacies were paid, and the overplus divided among them according to his orders, and Alleyn Rous with his brother Peter were obeyed as governors of the castle. The blockade, however, was not for this raised, nor were the skirmishes less frequent. The French knights and squires of Auvergne and Limousin were rejoiced at the death of Geoffry Tête-noire, and were not so much afraid of those he had left behind, for he had been a most active and successful captain in war and in forming garrisons.
We will now return to the duke of Gueldres for a short time, and say what befel him at this season; having already mentioned the trouble he had given to the king of France and his uncles, by forcing them to march to the borders of his country, and then to return without doing him any considerable damage.
CHAPTER CXXXVIII. — THE DUKE OF GUELDRES IS MADE PRISONER IN PRUSSIA; AND, THOUGH DELIVERED BY THE KNIGHTS OF THE TEUTONIC ORDER, HE RETURNS TO KEEP HIS FAITH TO THE PERSON WHO HAD TAKEN HIM.
WHEN the duke of Gueldres perceived that the whole army of France had retreated, and that peace was established with the duchess of Brabant and his other enemies by means of the treaties, the particulars of which you have heard related: one of the articles being understood to have been the surrender of the town of Grave within the year, on such condition as had been agreed on between him, the duke of Burgundy and duchess of 389 Brabant, and when he found he had now nothing to do at home, under these circumstances, I say, he resolved to make an excursion into Prussia. He made preparations accordingly, and, accompanied by many knights and squires of his own and other countries, began the journey thither about the octave of Saint Martin, taking his road through Germany. Wherever he passed, he was handsomely received, and arrived on the territory of Prussia. I know not how it happened, but he and his company were waylaid in the plains, and attacked by a body of men at arms, of whom he had not the least suspicion, and for that reason they were overpowered. They lost their arms, horses, gold and silver plate, and were carried prisoners to a town hard by, when all who could ransom themselves did so: particularly the duke of Gueldres pledged himself to a squire called Arurant; his sirname I am ignorant of; and then the duke of Gueldres and his company were led to a strong town of the duke de Stolpen, not that the duke was there in person.
When the grand master and knights of the Teutonic order heard that the duke of Gueldres had been attacked and made prisoner on his road to Prussia, they were exceedingly enraged, and said it should not remain unpunished, otherwise they would be greatly blamed. They instantly issued their summons for the attendance of their vassals, and marched with a large force of men at arms from Commisberg* to the town wherein the duke of Gueldres was detained prisoner. The squire who had made the duke prisoner, having heard of this expedition, was alarmed for the consequences, and determined to leave the castle, as ill might befal him should he be taken; but before he departed he waited on the duke of Gueldres, and thus spoke: “Duke of Gueldres, you are my prisoner, and I am your master. You, as a gentleman, have pledged your faith ad oath, that wherever I should please to go, thither you would follow me. I know not if you have sent for the grand-master of the Teutonic order, but he is marching hither in such force that I do not think it prudent to wait for him. Do you remain, if you please, but I shall carry away your faith with me.” To this the duke of Gueldres making no reply, the squire departed, and, having mounted his horse, rode off to a castle of greater strength; but, on his going away, he added, “You will find me at such a place,” and named to him the castle, which was very strong, and far from all roads. He was no sooner gone than the grand-master arrived, with a considerable force: no one issued forth to oppose him: and, had he found the squire within, he would infallibly have put him to death. He therefore returned to Konigsberg, carrying the duke of Gueldres with him.
I will relate what was the end of this event; for in whatever country it was told, and especially in Germany, it was variously spoken of, to the great astonishment of all who heard it. When the duke of Gueldres arrived at Konigsberg, having obtained his liberty in the manner I have said, he considered that he had pledged his faith to return to the squire who had made him prisoner: likewise remembering what the squire had said on his departure, he was much cast down, and thought himself bounden in honour to acquit himself loyally towards him. He therefore told the grand-master eh could not longer remain with him, nor for any dispensation or absolution would give up his intention of surrendering himself to his master in the castle where he had been appointed to do so; which every one considered as an act of good honour. When this came to the ears of his relations and subjects in Gueldres, they treated for his liberty, which they obtained through the means of the duke of Stolpen, who took much pains in the business; but, before the duke would consent to his enlargement, he made the duke of Gueldres swear, that neither himself, his heirs,, nor any person attached to him, would ever seek open or private revenge for the insult he had received. Thus was the duke of Gueldres set at liberty; but in the year 1388 did this misfortune befall him. Let us return to sir John de Vienne, admiral of France, and relate what he said from the king of France to the king of Castille.
* “Commisberg.” Q. Koningsberg
CHAPTER CXXXIX. — SIR JOHN DE VIENNE, HAVING RECEIVED HIS ANSWER FROM THE KING OF CASTILLE, RETURNS TO FRANCE. — THE DUKE OF LANCASTER PROCEEDS IN THE MARRIAGE OF HIS DAUGHTER TO THE INFANT OF CASTILLE. — THE EARL OF ARUNDEL, HAVING MADE SOME CRUISES ON THE COAST OF NORMANDY, RETURNS WITH HIS FLEET TO ENGLAND.
THE admiral of France continued his journey until he arrived in Castille, when he inquired where the king resided. He was answered, “Most commonly at Burgos,” whither he then rode. Having dismounted at his inn, he made himself ready to go to the palace; but as soon as the king’s household heard of his arrival, he was visited by them, most honourably, according to the custom of the country, from their attachment to the king of France, in whom they held themselves much indebted, and he was conducted to the king’s apartment. Sir John was kindly greeted by the king, to whom he gave his letters. The king took them, and called his council aside, when, having read and considered then, they fund he had full powers given him, and sir John was called and bade to explain the cause of his coming. He, who was ready prepared, thus spoke, in handsome language: “Sir king, and you gentlemen of his council, the king of France sends me hither, on account of the marriage which he had heard is about to take place between your son and the daughter of the duke of Lancaster, who is, as you know, his enemy. The king of France and his ministers are greatly at a loss to conceive how you could think of entering into any treaty of marriage or other engagement, without their being made acquainted with it; for they say truly, that no union can be formed between children without great intimacy and affection of the parents being the consequences. They therefore tell you by my mouth, to be careful not to enter into nay treaties that may be prejudicial to the king of France; and that those, so solemnly sworn to be observed by the late king Henry, your father, the prelates, nobles and cities of the realm, be no way infringed, otherwise you will incur the pain of excommunication from the pope, and the indignation of the king and barons of France, whom you will find to your disgrace, your most bitter enemies. This is what I am ordered to say to you from the king of France and his council.”
When the king of Castille and those present heard such a reproachful message from the king of France, they were so much astonished, that they looked at each other, but not one attempted to make any reply. A bishop, however, who happened to be there, made the following answer: “Sir John, you are newly arrived in this country, and the king and ourselves are glad to see you, and bid you welcome. Fair sir, the king has perfectly heard and understood your message, and you shall shortly, within a day or two, have such as answer as will give satisfaction.” “It is enough,’ replied sir John de Vienne, who then took leave of the king and council and returned to his lodgings. It was reported to me that he remained seven days without having any answer; that there was very great dissembling on this occasion, and he became quite melancholy, for he never saw the king, but remained in his apartment, scarcely visited by any one. Sir John de Vienne, noticing this delay, spoke of it to some of the council, whom he sometimes saw, declaring he would return without an answer. They suspected he would keep his word and do as he said, for in truth such was his intention.
He was therefore invited to the palace, and such answers made him, that, on his return, he told the king of France, and those who had sent him, not to be under any uneasiness respecting the king of Castille or his council, for they would never enter into any treaties with England that should, in the smallest degree, be detrimental to those which had been formed between France and Castille. If the king of Castille married his son to the daughter of the duke of Lancaster, according to the unanimous wish of his country, as the means of obtaining peace, and extinguishing all claims on his crown, it ought not to have given umbrage to the king of France nor to that nation; for the king of Castille and his subjects were firmly resolved to adhere to every point of the treaties existing between them and France.
Such was the purport of the answer sir John de Vienne had brought from Castille. The 391 king of Castille and the duke of Lancaster proceeded in the marriage, and a treaty of peace was amicably agreed on between them, by the before-mentioned commissioners, for the duke still resided in the Bordelois. He had come with his duchess and daughter from Bayonne to Bordeaux, where he was joyfully received, as they were desirous of his living among them, and thence had gone to Libourne*.
When it was known for certain, in the castle of the count de Foix, that the king of Castille had made peace with the duke of Lancaster, and had put an end to all his claims, by the marriage of his son with the lady Catherine of Lancaster, to whom he had given extensive territories in Castille, besides a large sum to the duke, amounting to two hundred thousand nobles, the count was greatly astonished, (for I was then present) and said: “This king of Castille is a poor creature, to make peace with a dead man; for I am sure the duke of Lancaster was in so bad a way he knew not where to turn himself. On my faith,” continued the count, “the duke is a man of ability, and has prudently managed this matter.”
It was about Christmas that the fleet of the earl of Arundel, which had been hovering the whole year along the coasts of Brittany, la Rochelle, Saintonge, and the Bordelois, came to the shores of Normandy, and sailed by Carentan. It had indeed before landed at Cherbourg, and the earl seemed inclined to make war on that part of the country. The town of Carentan and its dependencies were under the command of the lord de Hambre and the lord de Torci, who had with them a considerable number of knights and squires of Normandy. The earl of Arundel learning how strongly it was garrisoned, passed by, thinking the might lose more than he could gain were he to attack it, and fell on another town, called Torigny†, which he took by storm, and gained great wealth by plundering it. They carried away many prisoners, and marched to the barriers of Bayeux, but only made a slight skirmish. The English passed the fords of St. Clement, and did great damage to those parts; for they staid there for fifteen days without any one coming to oppose them.
The marshal de Blainville was indeed in Normandy; but he had no information of what was passing, or he would have provided a remedy. The English having finished their expedition, and done one hundred thousand francs of mischief to Normandy, made a prudent retreat, and recrossing the fords, returned to Cherbourg, where they embarked their pillage safely on board the fleet: having weighed anchor, they took to the deep, and landed at Southampton. Such were the deeds done by this fleet, under the command of the earl of Arundel.
* “Libourne,” — a town on the confluence of the Dordogne and Garonne, five leagues north-east from Bordeaux.
† “Torigny,” — a town in Normandy, three leagues from St. Lô, eight from Coutances.
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