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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. 249-269.

CHAPTER LXX. — THE DUKE OF GUELDRES SENDS A CHALLENGE TO FRANCE, IN FAVOUR OF ENGLAND.

THE same week in which the news came to Paris of the constable’s imprisonment, there was intelligence from Germany highly displeasing to the king, his uncles, and the council. The duke of Gueldres, son to the duke of Juliers, had entered into an alliance with England, to make war on France, and had accepted a subsidy of four thousand francs yearly. This pension, his father, the duke of Juliers, formerly possessed, but had renounced it; and the son, who was young, had taken it, at the solicitations of the king of England and his council, on condition he should send his challenge to the king of France, and carry on a war against him to the utmost of his power. He was the more inclined to support the English because he was already at war with the duchess and country of Brabant which country was favourable to France, for the reversion of it would fall to the duke of Burgundy and his children. The duke of Gueldres, to show he was in earnest and determined to act against France, sent, during the time the news of the constable’s misfortune was fresh, to defy the king of France, by letters sealed with his seal, that were very bitter and wrathful. They were not accepted with pleasure by the king nor his uncles, as I shall explain hereafter in the course of this history, when I speak more fully of the wars of Brittany and Gueldres.

The king, however, showed no outward signs of dissatisfaction, but handsomely entertained the squire who had brought this challenge. He had been very much terrified at Tournay; for, having shown the challenge to the provost and principal inhabitants, he wanted not to go further, saying that it was fully sufficient to have delivered his commission at so grand a city as Tournay. This did not satisfy the provost, though Tournay belonged to France, and he arrested the squire and had him closely confined: he then wrote to the duke of Burgundy, to say what he had done, and to know his further commands on the subject. The duke ordered the provost to conduct the squire to Paris, who certainly thought that now he could not escape death. It fell out otherwise, for the king, his uncles, and the court, graciously received him; and the king of France gave him a silver goblet weighing four marcs, with fifty francs within it. He was well entertained, and, when he returned, had a good passport given to him. The king and the whole court were much troubled on this matter, when the constable arrived to make his complaints against the duke of Brittany; and this increased it, for, it was now apparent, difficulties were arising on all sides, and much prudence and good sense would be necessary to meet them. The king and his council, notwithstanding this vexation from Gueldres, were unwilling that the constable, who had so faithfully served the king in Flanders and elsewhere, should not have redress for the wrongs he had suffered from the duke of Brittany, by confining his person and seizing his castles and towns without a shadow of right. The lord de Coucy and the admiral were particularly active in this business.

We will return to the duke of Lancaster and the king of Portugal, who were carrying on a prosperous war in Galicia, and speak of their operations.

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CHAPTER LXXI. — TWO BRETON CAPTAINS, HAVING VALIANTLY DEFENDED THE TOWN OF ORENSE AGAINST THE DUKE OF LANCASTER, CAPITULATE ON TERMS OFFERED BY THE ENGLISH.

YOU have heard that the king and queen of Portugal were present at the tilt between sir John Holland and sir Reginald de Roye, at Entença. The king, before he departed, told the duke of Lancaster, that on his return to Oporto, he would, within six days, take the field, for that his men were now quite ready. The duke ordered the lady Constance, his duchess, to remain at Sant Jago, under the guard of the lord Fitzwalter, a powerful English baron, with one hundred men at arms, and two hundred archers, saying, on is quitting Entença, — “Lady, you will retire to the city of Compostella, while the king of Portugal, myself, and army, seek our enemies in Castille, and combat them wherever we may find them, and we shall then know if ever we be to possess any part of Castille.” The lady replied, “God’s will be done.” They then separated for the present. The duchess was escorted out of danger by sir Thomas Percy and sir Evan Fitzwarren, with two hundred spears, who then returned to the duke. He had left Entença, and was marching towards a city in Galicia, called Orense, which would not acknowledged his claim to the crown. The place was strong, and had a garrison of Bretons, who had undertaken the defence at their own risk; and, as they expected the duke and his English would come thither, they had greatly added to its strength. The marshal of the army had received frequent information, that those of Orense had refused obedience to the duke, and were daily increasing the fortifications of the place: he therefore, in conjunction with the constable, sir John Holland, advised the duke to march thither.

When the army was tolerably near, it was halted and quartered thereabout. The first night was very fine and so wondrous hot (for it was about Ascension-day), that the lords had their tents and pavilions pitched in the plain, under the beautiful olive-trees which were there. They remained within them all the night and the following day, thinking the town would instantly surrender, without waiting to be assaulted. The townsmen would willingly have done so, if they had been the masters, but some adventurous Bretons governed it. Two gallant captains from lower Brittany, one called the bastard d’Aulroy, the other Pennefort, were the commanders. They were good men at arms, as I appeared, when they undertook to defend the town or Orense, without other assistance, against the army of the duke of Lancaster. On the third day, the English having well examined the place, to choose the weakest parts for their attacks, the constable, the marshal, and the admiral, ordered their trumpets to sound for the assault. The army then armed itself and assembled on the plain, when it was formed in four divisions, to make as many different attacks. They marched slowly and in handsome array, with trumpets sounding before them, as far as the ditches, and halted. There was not any water in them; but there was a strong palisade in front of the walls, and so many thorns and brambles; that no man at arms could pass through. The attack, however, commenced at four places; and men at arms and lusty varlets crossed the ditches with hatchets on their wrists, with which they cleared away the thorns, to the utmost of their power. The Galicians annoyed them with lancing darts; and, had they not been well shielded, numbers must have been killed or wounded; but those men at arms, who entered the ditch, were defended by their servants, bearing shields before them. The English archers made such good use of their bows, from the top of the ditch, that scarcely any dared to appear on the bulwarks.

The duke of Lancaster came to view the attack, mounted on a very tall horse, which the king of Portugal had given him, and to notice those who behaved well, and was so delighted, that he staid upwards of three hours. All the thorns and brambles were cleared away by this first attack, so that the palisades might be approached. The retreat was sounded; for the duke said to the marshal, — “Our men, sir Thomas, have done enough for to-day: let them retire, for they must be now fatigued.” “My lord, I am willing it should be so,” replied the marshal, and ordered the retreat. The army returned to its quarters, carrying with them the dead and wounded, and there passed the night. They had plenty of wine, 251 but it was so hot they could scarcely drink it; and, unless mixed with a great deal of water, those who made to free with it were rendered unfit for anything the ensuing day. On the morrow, they determined, in council, that, on account of the excessive heat, the fatigues the army had suffered, and the consequences of their having drank too much of this wine, there should not be any attack made the whole day; but that, on the next day, they would renew the assault from before sun-rise, in the cool of the morning until eight o’clock. Orders were issued for the army to remain quietly in camp, and no one to arm until the trumpet of the marshal sounded.

The duke of Lancaster received this day intelligence from the king of Portugal. He had left Oporto, and was on his march towards Santarem, for he intended to enter Castille by that frontier, and the armies to join on the river Duero, and besiege Beneventé or Vilalpando. Such was the plan of the king of Portugal, if, indeed, the king of Castille and his French allies, who were daily increasing, did not march to oppose him. Should they make no opposition, nor show any signs of offering battle, it was necessary the junction of the two armies be made as soon as possible. The duke was so well pleased with this news as to give the bearer ten nobles. On the appointed day for the renewal of the attack, the marshal’s trumpet sounded at the first dawn of the morning. Knights and squires made instantly ready, and posted themselves under their banners and pennons; but it was upwards of an hour before they were all drawn up. The duke remained in his pavilion, and did not rise thus early, for there was not any need of it. The marshal advanced into the plain, knowing well the duties of his office; and those ordered for the attack placed themselves under his pennon. News was spread through Orense, that the English were marching to the assault: for the Bretons on guard had discovered it from the sounding of the marshal’s trumpet. The men and women of the town were on the alert; and the Bretons cried to them, — “Hasten to the bulwarks: be men of courage, and not frightened at what you may see; we are not frightened; for we know the place is very strong, and we have plenty of darts, and well-tempered lances, to repulse our enemies, besides stones and flings to cast down on them: we know also, that should we be hard pushed, they will receive us favourably; and that is the worse we can suffer.” “My God,” said the captains who were present, “we have been in many weaker places than this, and were never the worse for it.” The Galicians, whether they would or not, took courage from the exhortations of the Bretons. This would not have been the case if the Bretons had not been in the town; for they would have surrendered on the first summons. To say the truth, the common people of Castille and Galicia are good for nothing in war; they are badly armed, and of poor courage. The nobles, who call themselves gentlemen, are tolerably well; but they like better to prance about, spurring their horses, than to be engaged in more serious matters.

The English arrived about sun-rise before Orense, and, having entered the ditch, which, though dry, was deep enough, advanced to the palisadoes, with hatchets and iron bars, and began to break down and level them. When this was done, they had still another ditch to cross, before they could approach the wall, which was as wide as the other, and many parts full of mud; but they were indifferent to this, and rushing into it, came to the walls. Those on the battlements were not dismayed at what they saw, but defended themselves valiantly. They lanced darts at the enemy, the stroke of which is very deadly; and it required strong armour to resist their blows. The English, having prepared ladders the preceding day, had them brought and fixed to different parts of the walls; and you would have seen knights and squires, eager for renown, ascend them with targets on their heads, and fight, sword in hand, with the Bretons, who, in truth, defended themselves gallantly; for I hold such conduct valorous, in allowing themselves to be so often attacked, knowing well they should not have assistance from any quarter. The king of Castille and the French knights had determined to permit the English to overrun Galicia, or any other parts, if they could, without offering them the chance of a general combat, and with this the Bretons had been made acquainted.

Some of the English said, — “Ah, if all the towns in Castille give us as much trouble as this, we shall never have done.” Others replied, — “There is much to be pillaged within it, that has been brought thither from all parts; and it is this which induces them to make so 252 obstinate a resistance, that they may surrender on terms, and preserve their wealth and merchandise form being plundered.” Some asked, ૼ “Who are the captains?” “They are two bastard Bretons, good men at arms, who know what sieges and assaults are, for they have been at many. Their names are the bastard de Pennefort and the bastard of Aulroy.” “Whoever they may be, they are valiant fellows thus to hold out, without any appearance of succour coming to them.” Those who mounted the ladders were sometimes repulsed so severely, as to be tumbled to the ground, which caused much shouting among the Castillians. When the duke of Lancaster was risen and had heard mass, he said he would go and view the attack. He mounted a course, but unarmed, and had his pennon, that was emblazoned with the arms of Castille, England, and France, borne before him, which fluttered in the wind, so that the extremities touched the ground. On the duke’s arrival, the besiegers exerted themselves the more, in order to be noticed and praised. The enemy, observing the pennon, knew the duke was come, and they also gained courage to continue the defense. Thus were both parties employed until it was eight o’clock; and there did not seem any probability that Orense would speedily be won by such attacks. The duke asked who were the captains of the garrison. On their being named, he said, — “Tell the marshal to treat with them; or send some one to know if they be willing to enter into a negotiation for surrendering the town, and placing it under our obedience. I do not believe that question has been put to them. Go,” added he to one of his knights, “sir William, and bring the marshal to speak with me.”

The knight left the duke, rode to the marshal, and said, — “Sir ‘Thomas, my lord wishes to speak with you.” The marshal went to him; and, when in his presence, the duke said, — “Marshal, do you know whether these Bretons, who hold the place against us, would be willing to put themselves under our obedience? We are fatiguing and wounding our men, and wasting our ammunition, when we know not how soon we may be in greater want of it. I therefore beg you will go and inform them you are willing to treat.” “My lord,” replied sir Thomas, “I will cheerfully do so; and since you wish to show them mercy, it is just they should be heard.” The marshal then returned to the assault, and, calling to him a herald, said, — “go, and manage to speak with the besieged; our men will make way for thee; and tell them I am willing to enter into a treaty.” The herald said he would do so, and entered the ditch clothed in a coat of arms which had belonged to the duke of Lancaster, saying, “Open your ranks, and make way for me: I am sent by the marshal to parley with these Bretons.” As he said this, they made room for him to pass. The bastard d’Aulroy, seeing him push through the crowd, for he had observed from the ramparts what has passed between him and the marshal, advanced on the battlements, and, showing himself, said: — Herald what is it you want? I am one of the captains in this town, with whom I fancy you come to speak.” “It is so,” replied the herald, whose name was Percy: “my lord marshal bids you come to the barriers, for he is desirous to parley and treat with you.” “I will do so,” said the bastard, “if he will order the attack to cease and his men to retire, otherwise not.” “I believe you,” answered the herald, and returned to relate his answer to the marshal. The marshal called his trumpet, and said, — “Sound the retreat;” which was done, and the assault ceased on all sides. Upon this, the captains in the town passed the gates, and came to the barriers, where they met the constable, sir John Holland, the marshal, and many others of the English. “How, my fair sirs,” said the marshal, “can you think of thus holding out and suffering yourselves to be taken by storm, by which you may probably be slain, and for certain will lose all. We know well that the townsmen are very willing to surrender to our lord and lady, and would long ago have done so, if you had not been with them. You may repent of it; for, let happen what will, we shall never depart hence until the place be ours by fair means or foul. Consult together, and then come with your answer, for I have full powers to treat with you.”

“Sir,” replied the bastard Aulroy, “we have already consulted and formed our resolution. If you will consent that we, and what belongs to us, be conducted in safety to Vilalpando, or wherever else we may please to go, we will surrender the town; but the inhabitants of both sexes, who may choose to remain in it, shall be permitted to do so, without any risk or molestation, provided they submit themselves to the duke and duchess of Lancaster, as others 253 towns in Galicia have done. We know that you are the marshal of the army, part of whose office is to enter into treaties with an enemy, and likewise that the duke will ratify whatever engagements you may enter into.” “That is true,” answered sir Thomas: “Now suppose I consent to all you have asked, I will not that the town be pillaged, under pretence of its wealth having been gained from the adjacent country, for that would cause riots between your men and ours.” “Oh, no,” said the bastard: “we will only carry away what is our own: but, if any of our men shall have taken or bought anything without paying, we will not enter into any dispute on that account. With regard to provisions, I do not believe our men have paid one penny since they have been herein garrison.” “As for that,” replied the marshal, “it is nothing: it is an advantage our men will take was well as yours: but I speak of moveables.” “Sir,” answered the bastard d’Aulroy, “we have not our men under such command but that some will transgress.” Sir John Holland now interfered, and said, — “Let them pass; what they have got belongs to them: we shall not be so strict as to search their trunks.” “Be it so, then,’ said the marshal.

Everything was now settled, and they were to march away on the morrow. The English returned to their quarters to disarm, and refresh themselves with what they had brought. The Bretons employed the whole day in packing up the great plunder they had made, even from Castille, for the king had abandoned the whole country to them, which enriched prodigiously the first comers. While thus employed, they seized from the inhabitants of Orense whatever they could conveniently lay their hands on, such as furs, cloth, and jewels; and when the poor people said, — “Gentlemen, this belongs to us; you did not bring it hither;” they answered, — “Hold your tongues, ye wicked people; we have a commission from the king of Castille to pay ourselves wherever we go, and, as you refused to do so, we are forced to provide for ourselves. We have served you faithfully and valiantly: you are therefore bound to increase our pay, and it is thus we take it.” The next morning the marshal mounted his horse, and, attended by about sixty lances, rode to the barriers of Orense, where he waited awhile for the Bretons. When they came, he asked, — “are you all ready?” — “Yes,” they replied: “give us our passport and escort.” “Whither do you wish to go?” “To Vilalpando.” “It is well,” replied the marshal: “here is your escort:” and, calling to him an English knight whose name was Stephen Eastbury, said, — “Take ten of our lances, to escort these Bretons, and return to-morrow.” He obeyed he marshal’s orders, and the Bretons marched away well packed and heavily laden.

When they were all gone, the marshal and his men entered the town, where he was received with the greatest respect; for they took him for the duke of Lancaster, which was the reason for their humility. He asked some of the townsmen, — “These Bretons, who are gone away so heavily laden, have they carried off any of your properties?” “Of ours, my lord! Yes, by God, a great deal.” “And why did you not complain to me? I would have made them restore it.” “My lord, we were afraid; for they threatened to murder us, if we said one word: they are a cursed race, for there is not one but is a thief; and how can we complain when they rob one another?” The marshal laughed, and, having paused, demanded the principal persons of the town. When they arrived, he made them swear to preserve the town of Orense in obedience to the duke and duchess of Lancaster, in like manner to other towns in Galicia: which, being done, he renewed the officers of the town, who took similar oaths. All being finished, he and his company drank some wine, and returned to the duke of Lancaster, who was reposing under the shade of the olive-trees; for it was so very hot, neither man nor horse could withstand the heat of the sun, and after eight o’clock it was impossible to go abroad and forage. The greatest pleasure the duke could have received would have been the information, that the king of Castille was on his march to offer him battle; for he was well aware he could never otherwise succeed in his claim on that kingdom. He was continually making inquiries how the king of Castille was employed, and he was answered, — “My lord, we learn from the pilgrims who come to Sant Jago, that he is not making any preparations to take the field, but has shut himself and his men up in garrisons. The duke of Bourbon has not yet arrived, nor is there any intelligence received of his coming.” The duke was advised to remain but five days in Orense, and then march to Zamora, and endeavour to force a passage over the Duero by the bridge. The 254 knight, on his return from escorting the Bretons to Vilalpando, was asked what were the numbers in garrison; he said, — “He had heard sir Oliver du Guesclin was there, with one thousand spears, French and Bretons.” “It will be a good thing, my lord, said the constable and sir Thomas Percy, “if we go thither and skirmish with them. Perhaps they may come out, and accept our challenge, for some of them are very impatient to signalize themselves.” “I agree to it,” replied the duke; “let us dislodge and march hence, for we can gain nothing by staying longer here.” Orders for decampment on the morrow were issued, and for the army to march towards Vilalpando, and then to Zamora.

We will now say something of the king of Portugal, and what befel him on his entrance into Castille to form a junction with the duke of Lancaster.

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CHAPTER LXXII. — THE KING OF PORTUGAL, BEING REPULSED IN HIS ATTEMPTS TO STORM THE CASTLES OF SANTAREM, BURNS THE TOWN. — HE MARCHES TO PERROL IN GALICIA.

THE king of Portugal, on his departure from Oporto, left his queen, his sister-in-law, and the city, under the guard of the count de Novaire, with one hundred lances, of Portuguese and Gascons who had come to serve him. When the king took the field, he halted the first day at the distance of only three leagues from Oporto. On the morrow, he dislodged, and marched in three battalions; but, on account of the infantry, which consisted of twelve thousand men, and the baggage, he could but advance at a foot’s pace. The main battalion with the king followed, which was a thousand good pears, and in it were don Galois, Fernando Portelet, John Fernando Portelet, Guadaloupe Fernando Portelet, and Pounass [Susan note check previous spelling] d’Acunha, who bore the king’s banner, John Radighos, Peter John Gomez de Salnez, Joao Rodriguez de Sâ, and the master of Avis, Fernando Rodriguez de Sequiera, all great barons. The constable of Portugal commanded the rear battalion, consisting of five hundred spears; with him were the count d’Angouse, the count de l’Escalle, le petit Danede, Mondest Radighos, Roderigo de Valconsiaux, Ange Salvese de Geneve, John Ansale de Popelan, all barons and knights.

In this manner did the Portuguese continue their march towards Santarem. They advanced by short marches, and halted every third day: they also lay by the greater part of the day. They arrived at Aljubarota, where they halted for two days, and took as many in going from thence to Ourem. At last they came to Santarem, and quartered themselves therein; for they found the town had been abandoned since the battle of Aljubarota, the fear of the Portuguese, and the inhabitants had retired with their effects into Castille. The castles, however, were well garrisoned with Bretons and Poitevins, who had been sent thither for their defence. The king of Portugal was advised to attack these castles, which were situated at each end of the town; for he could not, in honour, pass by without attempting some deeds of arms: besides, as the Castillians had conquered this place from the Portuguese, they wished to try if they could recover them. They had brought machines of war from Oporto, for they knew they should have need of them on their march. The king and his army were quartered in and about Santarem, which is situated at the entrance of Castille, on the Tagus. By means of this river, they could have all their provision and stores conveyed to them from Lisbon or Oporto, of which they took the advantage; for they were upwards of thirty thousand men.

The constable, with his division and one half of the commonalty of Portugal, posted himself opposite the eastern castle, called la Perrade. The marshal with this battalion and the other half of the commonalty, did the same at the opposite castle, called Callidon. Morice Fonchans, an able man at arms, and a knight from Brittany, commanded in la Perrade; and sir James de Mont-merle, a knight from Poitou, in Callidon. They might each have with him fifty lances. Fifteen days passed without anything being done: their machines, were, indeed, pointed against the walls, and cast heavy stones ten or twelve times a day, but did little damage, except to the roofs of the towers, which they raised; but the garrisons paid no attention to this, for their lodgings were well arched: and no engine 255 nor springall could hurt them with any stones they could throw. When the Portuguese saw they had no hopes of success, they grew tired, and resolved to decamp and enter Galicia, to join the duke of Lancaster, which would increase their strength, and the king and duke might then advise together, whither to march. When they departed from Santarem, they so completely burnt the town, that there did not remain a shed to put a horse in. The garrisons, seeing them depart, were so much rejoiced, that they sounded their trumpets, and with other signs of joy, continued playing until the whole were out of hearing. The army marched that day for Pontferrant, in Galicia, in their route to Val-Sainte-Catharine, and arrived at Ferrol, which is a tolerably strong town, and in the interest of the king of Castille, and they halted before it.

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CHAPTER LXXIII. — THE KING OF PORTUGAL, NOT BEING ABLE TO TAKE FERROL BY STORM, GAINS IT BY AN AMBUSCADE, AND PUTS IT UNDER THE OBEDIENCE OF THE DUKE OF LANCASTER.

THE king of Portugal and his army found a plentiful country at Ferrol, which they surrounded; and the constable and marshal said, they would storm it, as it was to be taken. They were two days, however, without making any attempt, for they expected that it would surrender without an assault, but they were mistaken; for there were in it some Bretons and Burgundians, who said they would defend it to the last. The machines were brought forth on the third day, and the marshal’s trumpets sounded for the attack, when all made themselves ready, and advanced to the walls. The men at arms in Ferrol, hearing the trumpets, knew they should be stormed, and made preparations accordingly. They armed themselves, and all men capable of defence, and ordered the women to gather and bring to them stones, to throw down on the enemy. You must know, that the women in Galician and Castille are of good courage to defend themselves, and equally useful as the men. The Portuguese marched in handsome array to the ditches, which, though deep, were dry, and merrily entered them. They began to ascend the opposite bank with much courage, but were sorely treated, unless well shielded, by those of the town, who, from the walls, cast down on them stones and other things, that wounded and killed several, and forced them to retreat whether they would or not. There was much throwing of darts on both sides; and thus lasted the attack until eight o’clock, when the day became exceedingly hot, without wind or breeze, insomuch, that those in the ditches thought they should be burnt: this heat was so excessive, that the attack was put an end to, though the machines cast stones into the towns, merely for the chance of success. The Portuguese retired to refresh themselves, and attend to the wounded. The marshal resolved not to renew the attack but by his machines, for otherwise it would cost too many lives; and to skirmish at the barriers, to amuse the young knights, and enure them to deeds of arms. This being settled, there were, almost daily, skirmishes at the barriers; and these within the town were accustomed to post themselves without the gates, between them and the barriers, the better to engage their enemies.

Sir Alvarez Pereira, the marshal of the Portugal, who was subtle, and had been long used to arms, observing this conduct, planned upon it an ambuscade. Opening himself to don Juan Fernando, he said, — “I see these soldiers, when skirmishing, sometimes venture beyond the gates: I have formed a plan, which if you will assist me to execute, I think we may discomfort them. I propose that we form an ambuscade, as near the barriers as possible, of five or six hundred men, well mounted, and then commence a skirmish, as usual, but in no great number; and retreat by degrees, the moment they seem willing to pass their barriers, which I think their avarice and eagerness will induce them to do. We must then turn about and attack them lustily, and the ambuscade will gallop between them and the gates. The garrison will now be alarmed, and hasten to order the gates to be opened, and whether they will or not, we shall enter the place with them. But should the townsmen refuse to open the gates, all those who are without must be our prisoners.” “It is well imagined,” replied don Juan. “Well,” said the marshal, “do you command one party, and I will take the other. You, sir Martin de Mello, and Ponasse d’Acunha {Susan note check spelling], shall have the ambuscade, and I 255 will skirmish, as that is part of my office.” This plan was adopted, and five hundred men, well armed and mounted, were chosen to form the ambuscade.

For three days there had not been any skirmishing, to the surprise of the garrison, who said to the inhabitants: “See, wicked people as ye are, ye anted to surrender to the king of Portugal without striking a blow, and would have done so, if we had not been here to defend the honour of your town; this we have so successfully done, that the king of Portugal is on the eve of his departure, without having effected anything.”

On the fourth day, according to what had been laid down, the marshal advanced to the skirmish with but few followers: the great ambuscade remained behind. The Bretons, eager to make rich prisoners, having already captured six, seeing the Portuguese at the barriers, had the gates opened, which they left unfastened, in case of failure (for they had no great dependence on the townsmen), and the wicket wide open, and sallied forth to skirmish with darts and lances, as is usual in such combats. The marshal, when he saw the time was come, made his men wheel, and act as if they were tired, retreating by degrees. Those within the place, observing this, and thinking they should make prisoners of them, all, opened the whole of the barriers, sallied forth, and, falling on the Portuguese, captured five-and-twenty. In the struggle and pursuit, the Bretons never thought of closing the barriers; and the marshal now made his signal for the ambuscade to advance, which it did full gallop, and, by getting between the Bretons and the place, made themselves masters of the barriers. The French and Bretons now hastened to re-enter the gates, but it was of no avail, for the Portuguese entered with them; and thus was the town won. Very few were slain, and the soldiers in garrison were made prisoners, except ten or twelve, who escaped by a postern gate, and went to Vilalpando, where sir Oliver du Guesclin was in garrison, with one thousand French lances at least, and those runaways related to him how Ferrol had been lost. In this manner was the town won by the Portuguese, and put under the obedience of the duke of Lancaster, for whom they made war. The king of Portugal was much pleased at the success of his men, and instantly sent intelligence of it to the duke, adding, he had greatly increased his inheritance by the capture of a town; and that he and his army were desirous and active to conquer the rest.

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CHAPTER LXXIV. — THE ARMY OF THE DUKE OF LANCASTER COMES BEFORE NOYA IN GALICIA. — THE ENGLISH ARE RECEIVED, AT THE BARRIERS, BY BARROIS DES BARRES AND HIS COMPANIONS.

THE duke of Lancaster was much rejoiced at the news from the king of Portugal: he had left Orense, and was on is march towards Noya, where le Barrois de s Barres, sir John de Châtelmorant, sir Tristan de la Jaille, sir Reginald de Roye, sir William de Montigny, and many other knights and squires were in garrison. When the duke came within sight of the castle, the marshal said, — “There is Noya: if Coruña be one of the keys of Galicia towards the sea, the castle of Noya is another towards Castille; and whoever wishes to be lord of Castille must be master of these two places. Let us march thither, for they tell me that Barrois de Barres, one of the ablest captains of France, is within it, and let us have some skirmishing with the garrison at the end of the bridge.” “We are willing to do so,” said sir Maubrun de Linieres and sir John d’Ambreticourt, who were riding by his side. The van battalion now advanced, consisting of five hundred men at arms, for the duke was desirous of making a good appearance to those within the castle; and he knew also that his marshal would offer to skirmish, should they find any to accept their challenge. The watch on the castle, seeing the van of the English approach, began to sound his horn so agreeably, it was a pleasure to hear him.

Le Barrois and his companions, to the amount of one hundred men at arms, hearing that the English were at hand, armed themselves, and, in good array, advanced to the barriers, where they drew up under twelve pennons. Sir John des Barres, being the most renowned, was the commander-in-chief, and next to him, sir John de Châtelmorant. When sir Thomas Moreaux, the marshal of the army, found himself near the place, he halted, and, having dismounted 257 as well as his companions, they gave their horses to the pages and servants, and marched in a compact body, each knight and squire with his spear in hand, towards the barriers: ever six paces they halted, to dress themselves without opening their ranks. To say the truth, it was a beautiful sight. When they were come as far as they wished, they halted for a short time, and then advanced their front to begin the action. They were gallantly received; and, I believe, had the two parties been in the plain, many more bold actions would have taken place than it was possible to find an opportunity for where they were; for the barriers being closely shut, prevented them form touching each other. The marshal hit sir John de Châtelmorant with his lance, as did sir John the marshal; for each was eager to hurt the other, but, from the strength of their armour, they could not. Sir Thomas Percy attacked Barrois des Barres; Maubrun de Linieres, sir William de Montigny; every man had his match: and when they were fatigued or heated they retired, and other fresh knights and squires renewed the skirmish. This was continued until past eight o’clock: indeed, it was twelve before it was entirely over. The archers next came to the barriers; but the knights withdrew, for fear of the arrows, and ordered their cross-bows and Castillians to oppose them, which they did until noon, when the lusty varlets continued the skirmish until sun-set, and the knights then returned fresh and vigorous to renew it.

Thus was the day employed until night, when the English retired to their quarters, and the knights into the castle, where they kept a good guard. The English were quartered about half a league from Noya, on the banks of the river, which was very welcome to them and their horses, for they had great difficulty in procuring water on their march. They intended to remain there five or six days, and then march to Vilalpando, and look at the constable of Castille and the French there in garrison. They had also heard from the king of Portugal, who was encamped in the plains of Ferrol, and intended marching for the town of Padron* in Galicia, which was in the line of march of the English; and I believe the king and duke were to meet in this town, to confer together on the state of affairs, and determine on a plan for carrying on the war. They had already been one month in the enemy’s country, and had conquered all Galicia, except one or two places, without having any intelligence of the king of Castille or the French, which greatly surprised them; for they had heard that the king of Castille had issued his summons from Burgos, where he resided, to all parts of Castille, Seville, Cordova, Toledo, Leon, Valladolid, Soria, and had collected sixty thousand men, not including six thousand men at arms from France. The duke of Bourbon was likewise daily expected, for he had quitted Paris.

It was for this reason the English and Portuguese wanted to unite their armies, to be in greater force, and better enabled to meet the enemy; for they believed all that had been told them respecting the French and Castillians as true, and outwardly showed much joy thereat. They would willingly have encountered their enemies, for they were convinced they could never bring their dispute to any decision without a battle.

Sir William de Lignac and sir Walter de Passac were always about the king’s person, and accompanied him wherever he went; for they had two or three times a week intelligence from France of what was going on, and likewise from the duke of Bourbon. They were waiting for him, as he had begun his journey, by way of Avignon, to visit the pope and cardinals; and would not therefore offer combat during his absence, nor would it have been becoming them so to do. Among the news they had from France, the most surprising was the account of the duke of Brittany’s arrest and confinement of the constable in the castle of Ermine, until he ransomed himself, by paying down one hundred thousand francs, and the surrender of three castles and a town, by which the intended invasion of England was prevented. They were greatly astonished, and could not imagine what the duke of Brittany meant by it: they however supposed that he must have been instigated thereto by the council of England.

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*  Padron is situated on the river Ulla, four leagues to the southward of Saint Jago: it was formerly a bishopric, but is now transferred to Saint Jago.

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CHAPTER LXXV. — THE KING OF FRANCE SENDS SOME OF HIS NOBLES TO DEMAND FROM THE DUKE OF BRITTANY THE REASON OF THE INSULT OFFERED TO HIM IN THE PERSON OF HIS CONSTABLE, SIR OLIVER DE CLISSON.

THE court of France, more particularly the king’s uncles, and the principal lords, were much distressed by the defiance that was sent by the duke of Gueldres; for it was outrageous and rude, and not in the common style of such challenges, as I shall explain when I mention the particulars. They were likewise much vexed at the late conduct of the duke of Brittany, which had broken up the expedition to England by the imprisonment of their leader. This had been greatly prejudicial to the king, nor could they discover any cause he had to assign for such conduct. The king did not pay such attention to these matters, which, considering his youth, was not to be wondered at, as if he had been of more advanced years, for some of the old lords, who remembered former times, said, “that by a similar act this kingdom had been much agitated, when the king of Navarre assassinated sir Charles d’Espaign, who at the time was constable of France, for which king John could never afterwards bear the king of Navarre, and had deprived him, as far as he was able, of all his possessions in Normandy.” “Do you suppose,” said others, “that if king Charles, the father of our king, were now alive, who loved so much the constable, he would not have made the duke pay severely for this insult? By my faith would he, and instantly have declared war against him, and, cost what it would, have driven him out of his duchy.” Thus was the matter discussed through France, where all agreed that he had acted very ill. The king and his uncles, to pacify the people, who were much dissatisfied, and to inquire into the grounds of this business, resolved to send a prelate, and three able and prudent barons, to hear the duke’s reasons, and to summon him to Paris, or wherever else the king might please, to make proper excuses for his conduct. Sir Milon de Dormans, bishop of Beauvais, was nominated as principal: he was a most able man, of great eloquence, ad was to be accompanied by sir John Vienne, sir John de Bueil, and the lord de la Riviere, who had received full instructions what they were to say; but to be the more particularly informed of what had passed, the bishop of Beauvais went to Montléhery, the residence of the constable, to learn from him the most minute details. This town and castle, with its dependencies, had been given to him and to his heirs by king Charles. The bishop, during the visit, was seized with an illness that forced him to keep his bed, and after fifteen days’ struggle against the fever, it carried him off, so very severe was the attack. The bishop of Langres was nominated in the place of the bishop of Beauvais, who set out, with the before-mentioned barons, for Brittany.

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CHAPTER LXXVI. — FROISSART MENTIONS THE PERSON FROM WHOM HE LEARNT THE ARREST OF THE CONSTABLE DE CLISSON; WHO LIKEWISE INFORMS HIM THAT SIR BERTRAND DU GUESCLIN OUGHT TO BE CALLED DU GLAY-AQUIN.

I MAY, perhaps, be asked, how I became acquainted with the events in this history, to speak so circumstantially about them. I reply to those who shall do so, that I have, with great attention and diligence, sought in divers kingdoms and countries for the facts which have been, or may hereafter be, mentioned in it: for God has given me grace and opportunities to see, and make acquaintance with the greater part of the principal lords of France and England. It should be known, that in the year 1390, I had laboured at this history thirty-seven years, and at that time I was fifty-seven years old: a man may, therefore, learn much in such a period, when he is in his vigour, and well received by all parties. During my youth, I was five years attached to the king and queen of England, and kindly entertained in the household of king John of France and king Charles his son. I was, in consequence, enabled to hear much during those times; and, for certain, the greatest pleasure I have ever had, was to make every possible inquiry, in regard to what was passing in the world, and then to write down all that I had heard.

I will now say from whence I heard of the arrest of the constable, and the consequences that followed. I was riding about the time this passed, or perhaps a year after, from Angers to Tours, and had slept at Beaufort on Vallée*. On the morrow I overtook a knight from Brittany, called sir William d’Ancenis, who was going to visit madame de Maille in Touraine, who was his cousin, as she had lately become a widow. I made acquaintance with the knight, for he was courteous and obliging in speech, and inquired the news from him; more particularly about the imprisonment of the constable, the truth of which I was eager to know. He gave me the information I wanted; for he said he had been at the parliament in Vannes, with his cousin the lord d’Ancenis, a powerful baron in Brittany. In the same manner as sir Espaign du Lyon told me all that passed in Foix, Béarn, and Gascony, and as don Juan Fernando Portelet the events in Castille and Portugal, did the gallant knight converse with me, and would have continued it longer, had I rode further in his company. We had advanced four long leagues between Montlihargne and Preuilly, riding at a gentle pace, when he told me may things on the road respecting Brittany, which I treasured up in my memory. As we were thus riding, we entered a meadow near to Preuilly, when he dismounted, and said, — “Ah, may God keep the soul of the good constable of France; for he had, on this spot, a most honourable combat, and greatly profitable to the country; but he was not then constable, and served under the banner of sir John de Bueil, on his return from the expedition into Spain.” “Pray have the goodness to relate it to me.” “I will,” said he; “but let us remount our horses.” We did so, and, continuing our journey, he thus began :

“In the time I am speaking of, this country was quite filled with English, and thieves from Gascony, Brittany, Germany: adventurers from all nations had fixed their quarters on both sides of the Loire, for the war between England and France was renewed. A party of them had fortified themselves in the castle of Beaufort en Vallée; which you have seen, and supported themselves by plundering the country all round it. But to come to the immediate object of my story: some English and Gascons had possessed themselves of Preuilly, and strengthened it so much, that none attempted to dislodge them: they had also some other smaller forts near; and when they made any excursions, they could assemble between eight hundred and a thousand combatants.

“The constable, sir Bertrand du Guesclin, sir John de Bueil, the lord de Mailly, and other knights, determined to deliver the country from these people, and collected about five hundred spears. They learnt that the English intended marching towards Saumer; that all the captains of the different forts were to unite their forces; and that the place of meeting was Preuilly, which you see before us. Our men, having crossed the river, placed themselves in ambuscade, in the wood below us, on the right hand. The enemy left Preuilly at sun-rise, to the amount of nine hundred fighting men: and when our party in ambush saw them advancing, they knew a combat to be inevitable. They held a council on what should be their cry, and were desirous it should be ‘Sir Bertrand!’ but he would not consent, and declared he would not display either banner or pennon, but be under that of sir John de Bueil. Our enemies entered the mead where we just now dismounted, and they had scarcely done so before our men sallied out of their ambush to meet them. On seeing us, being of good courage, they drew themselves up in handsome order. We did the same, and both parties advanced to the combat, which instantly commenced with such thrusting of lances, that many were thrown down on each side. It lasted a considerable time without either giving way; but, to say the truth, we were all picked men, and with the enemy were numbers badly armed and plunderers. They gave us, however, full employment; but sir Morice Trisequedy, sir Geoffry Ricon, sir Geoffry Kerimel, and Morfonace, joining sir Bertrand du Guesclin, full gallop, reinforced us with sixty good spears, whom they brought with them, and, attacking the English on horseback, threw them into a confusion they never could recover. The leaders of these pillagers, perceiving the event was likely to turn out unfavourable to them, mounted their horses, but not all; for seven lay dead on the field, with three hundred of their men. The pursuit lasted as far as St. Maur, where sir Robert Cheney, Robert Hervey, Richard Giles, and James Clerk, got into a boat, and saved themselves 260 by crossing the Loire. They made for four castles the English had on that side the river, wherein they did not long remain, but hastened for Auvergne and Limousin, as they fancied the constable was still at their heels.

“By this defeat, my good master, was all this country delivered from pillagers, and never since that time have any English or others established themselves here. I therefore say, that constable Bertrand was a gallant man, and of great honour and advantage to France, for he regained large tracts of territory from her enemies.” “By my faith, sir, you say truly: he was indeed a very valiant man, and so is sir Oliver du Guesclin.” On my naming him du Guesclin, the knight laughed; and I said, “Sir, what do you laugh at?” “Because you call him du Guesclin, which is not his proper name, nor ever was, although he is generally so called, even by us who come from Brittany. Sir Bertrand was during his lifetime desirous to alter this, but could not; for this word is more naturally pronounced than the one he wished to substitute for it.” “Pray, sir,” said I, “have the kindness to tell me if there be any great difference between them.” “No God help me: the only difference is Glay-aquin instead of Glesquin, or Guesclin. I will tell you whence this surname is derived, according to what I have heard the old people in Brittany say, and it is certainly true, for you may find it written in the old chronicles of Brittany.” This speech gave me great pleasure, and I replied, — “Sir, I shall think myself much obliged by your so doing; and what you say shall not be forgotten, for sir Bertrand du Guesclin was so renowned a knight, that his reputation ought to be augmented by every possible means.” “That is true,” said the knight, and thus began:

“In the reign of Charlemagne, that great conqueror, who added so much to Christendom and France; for he was emperor of Rome as well as king of France and Germany: and whose body lies now at Aix-la-Chapelle; — this king Charles, as is seen in the ancient chronicles (for you know that all the knowledge we possess in this world we owe to writing, and upon no other foundation can we depend for truth but on what is contained in approved books,) was several times in Spain, where he once remained for nine years without returning to France, but conquering all before him. At this time were was a pagan king, called Aquin, who reigned over Bugia and Barbary, that lie opposite to Spain. The kingdom of Spain was very considerable, if you follow its coasts from St. Jean du Pied des Ports, for it then contained all Arragon, Navarre, Biscay, Oporto, Coimbra, Lisbon, Seville, Cordova, Toledo, and Leon, and these formerly were conquered by this great king. During his long residence in Spain, Aquin, king of Bugia and Barbary, assembled an army and embarked for Brittany, where he landed at the port of Vannes. He brought his wife and children with him, and, having established himself and his army in the country, proceeded to make further conquests. King Charles was duly informed of what was passing in Brittany; but he would not let it interfere with his present undertaking, saying, — ‘Let him establish himself in Brittany: it will not be difficult for us to free the country, and submit it to the Christian faith. This king, Aquin, built a handsome tower on the sea-shore near to Vannes, called the Glay, wherein he took pleasure to reside. When Charlemagne had accomplished his expedition to Spain by the delivery of Galicia and other provinces from the Saracens, whose kings he had slain, and, by driving out the infidels, had brought the whole kingdom under the Christian faith; he sailed for Brittany, and gave battle to king Aquin and his adherents, with such success that the greater part of the infidels were killed, and king Aquin forced to fly, in a vessel that lay ready prepared for him at the foot of the tower of Glay. He was so hard pressed by the French, he could only embark himself, his wife, and some of his family, and in the hurry forgot a young child, of about a year old, that was asleep in the tower. The king having escaped, this child was brought to Charlemagne, who was much pleased with him, and had him baptised. Roland and Oliver were his godfathers at the font, and the emperor gave him handsome presents and the lands his father had won in Brittany. This child, when grown up, was a valiant knight, and called Oliver du Glay-aquin, because he had been found in the tower of Glay, and was the son of king Aquin.

“Such was the foundation of the family of sir Bertrand du Guesclin, which, as you see, ought to be called du Glay-aquin. Sir Bertrand used to say, that when he should have 261 expelled don Pedro from Spain and crowned don Henry de Transtamare, he would go to Bugia, as he should have only the sea to cross, and demand his inheritance; and would undoubtedly have executed it; for don Henry would gladly have supplied him with men and ships; but the prince of Wales, by bringing back and replacing don Pedro on the throne of Castille, put an end to it. Sir Bertrand was made prisoner by sir John Chandos, at the famous battle of Najarra, and ransomed for one hundred thousand francs. He had been before ransomed by the same knight, and for the like sum, at the battle of Auray. The renewal of the war between England and France put an effectual stop to this African expedition, and gave him so much employment that he could not attend to anything else. He was, nevertheless, the direct issue from king Aquin, who reigned over Bugia and Barbary. Thus have I traced to you the descent of sir Bertrand du Guesclin.” “That is true,” replied I, “and I am very thankful to you for it, which I will not forget.” As I said this, we arrived at Preuilly.†

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*  Beaufort en Vallée, — or Beaufort la Ville, a town of Anjou, on the river Authion, six leagues from Angers, sixteen from Tours.

†  The high reputation of Bertrand du Guesclin gave rise to many false reports of his origin: the above is one. To detect this, it is only necessary to state, 1st, There never was a prince in Brittany of the name of Aquin. — 2dly, Charlemagne conquered that province by his lieutenants, and was never there in person. — 3rdly, That the original name of the house of du Guesclin was not Glay-aquin, but Guarplic, a compound of two Breton words, Gwar and Plic, which signifies a creek, and describes the situation of the old castle du Guarplic, that was built on a creek, or gulf, in Concale bay, in the parish of Saint Coulomb, diocese of Dôl.

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CHAPTER LXXVII. — AMBASSADORS FROM THE KING OF FRANCE WAIT ON THE DUKE OF BRITTANY RESPECTING THE ARREST OF HIS CONSTABLE. — THE DUKE, HAVING HEARD THEM, GIVES THEM HIS ANSWER.

IF I could have been as long with sir William d’Ancenis as I was with sir Espaign du Lyon, when we travelled together from Pamiers to Orthès in Béarn, or with sir Juan Fernando Portelet, he would have told me many interesting things: but it could not be; for, soon after dinner, we came to two roads; one leading to Tours, whither I was bound, and the other to Mailly, which he was to follow. Here then we took leave of each other, and separated; but on our road from Preuilly, before our separation, he told me many things about the bishop of Langres, who had succeeded the bishop of Beauvais in the embassy to the duke of Brittany with sir John de Beuil, and the answer they received from the duke. Upon the authority of what the knight said, I have written as follows:

The ambassadors, having taken leave of the king and council, continued their journey until they came to Nantes, where they inquired the residence of the duke. They were told, that he chiefly resided at or near Vannes in preference to any other place. They left Nantes, and did not stop until they arrived at Vannes, as it is only twenty leagues distant, and dismounted in the town, for the duke lived in the castle called La Motte. When they had equipped themselves in a manner becoming their rank, they waited on him, who received them outwardly with much affection. The bishop of Langres, being a prelate, was the spokesman, had harangued in a handsome manner, in the presence of hsi two companions, sir John de Vienne and sir John de Beuil, saying, — “Lord duke, we are sent here by the king our sovereign, and by my lords his uncles, the dukes of Berry and Burgundy, to say they are wondrously surprised you should have prevented the invasion of England form taking place, when on the point of sailing, and have ransomed the constable of France for such an immense sum, besides seizing three of his castles in Brittany and the town of Jugon*,. Which, should they turn against the country, may seriously injure it. We are therefore charged to order you, on the part of our sovereign lord the king, and of our lords his uncles, to restore to sir Oliver de Clisson, constable of France, those parts of his inheritance you now withhold from him, and give him peaceable possession thereof, according to justice, in the same condition they were in before they were surrendered up to you through constraint, and not according to any just claim you had upon them, and also the sum of money you have received, wholly and fully, wherever he shall be pleased to have it paid. The king 262 and his council likewise summon you to appear at Paris, or wherever else they may direct, to excuse yourself for what you have done. The king is so good-tempered and forbearing, that, from ties of blood, he will readily listen to your excuses. Should they not be quite satisfactory, our lords, the dukes of Berry and Burgundy, will so fashion them to the utmost of their abilities, and by entreaties or otherwise manage the matter so that you shall remain friend and cousin to the king, as it is reasonable you should be.”

The bishop, turning to sir John de Vienne, said, — “Do you agree in my sentiments?” “Yes, sir,” he replied. Sir John de Beuil made a similar answer: when this passed, there were but these four in the apartment, the duke, heaving heard the bishop, was very thoughtful, and not without reason, for the words were so clear they required no expounding. At length he said, — “Sir, I have well heard what you had to say: it was proper I should do so, as you come from my sovereign lord the king of France, and my lords his uncles. I am therefore bounden to pay you, as coming from them, every honour and respect, and am willing to do so. What you have said, however, demands consideration; and I shall take the advice of my council, that I may give you such an answer as may please you, for I would not act otherwise.” “You say well,” replied the ambassadors, “and we are satisfied.” They then took leave, and returned to their hôtel. Towards evening, they received an invitation from the duke to dine with him on the morrow, which they accepted. The next day they went to the castle, where they found the duke and his knights, who received them magnificently. Shortly after their arrival, basins and ewers were brought, for them to wash before they sat down to table. The bishop of Langres, in respect to his prelacy, was seated above all the company: next to him was the duke, then sir John de Vienne and sir John de Beuil. The dinner was very splendid, sumptuous, and well served: when it was over, they retired into the presence-chamber, where they conversed on different subjects, and amused themselves in hearing the minstrels.

The lords from France thought they should have then received their answer, but were disappointed. Wine and spices were brought, which having partaken of, the retired to their hôtels, and remained the whole evening comfortably at home. On the ensuing morning, it was signified to them that the duke wished to see them at the castle, whither they went; and being introduced to the apartment where the duke was, he received them kindly, and thus spoke: “My fair sirs, I know you are anxious for an answer to what you have been charged to tell me form my sovereign and other lords, that you may report it to them: I therefore declare, that I have done nothing to sir Oliver de Clisson that I repent of, except that he has escaped too cheaply and with his life: this I spared solely on account of his office, and not in any manner out of personal regard; for he has behaved so very ill to me, in several instances, that I hate him mortally; and, begging my sovereign’s and their graces’ pardon, I have not prevented the expedition to England taking place by the arrest of the constable. Of this I am able and willing to exculpate myself; for the day I had him arrested, I was thinking no harm against it†: it is proper to take advantage of an enemy wherever it may be found. If he had been slain, I believe the kingdom of France would not have been the worse governed for having lost the supposed benefit of his council. With regard to the castles he surrendered to me, and of which I am in possession, I shall keep them until the king by force dispossesses me of them. As to the money, I reply, that from the hatred of sir Oliver de Clisson, I have incurred debts in this and other countries, and have from this sum repaid those to whom I was indebted.” Such was the answer the duke of Brittany gave to the ambassadors from the king of France. Many debates ensued, to induce the duke to send a more moderate answer; but his replies were always to the same effect as what he had before spoken. When they found they could not obtain anything more, they desired to take their leave, which being granted, they prepared for their departure, and journeyed until they arrived at Paris; thence they went to the castle of Beauté, near Vincennes, where the king and queen resided. The dukes of Berry and Burgundy soon followed them, as they were impatient to hear the duke of Brittany’s answer, which as you have heard I will not repeat. But as those sent into Brittany had not succeeded in any one point, the king and council were greatly displeased with the duke, and said he was the 263 proudest and most presumptuous man alive, and that matters should not remain as they were; for the consequences would be to prejudicial and disgraceful to the crown of France. It was fully the intention of the king and his council to make war on the duke of Brittany.

The duke expected nothing less; for he knew he had angered the king of France, as well as those of his council: but his hatred against the constable was so deep, it deprived him of the use of his reason; and he sorely repented that, when in his power, he had not put him to death. Things remained in this state a considerable time. The duke resided at Vannes, but seldom went abroad for fear of ambuscades: he paid great court to the principal cities and towns in the duchy, and made secret treaties with the English: he also garrisoned his strong places the same as in times of war. His opinion continually varied, as to what had passed: sometimes he said, he wished he had not arrested the constable; at others, to excuse himself, he declared that Clisson had so grievously insulted him, he had good reason for what he had done. This conduct had caused him to be feared in the country: for the lord hath small authority who is not feared by his subjects‡; for whenever he pleases he may be at peace with them.

We will now leave the duke of Brittany, and return to the affairs of England, which, at this moment, were in a troubled and dangerous state.

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*  Jugon must have been a place of considerable consequence, for I believe there is an old proverb,

“Qui a Bretagne sans Jugon
A un chappe sans chaperon.”

†  The original runs, “Nul mal je n’y pensoye.”

‡  Car c’est petite seigneurie de seigneur qui n’est craint et doubté de ses gens.

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CHAPTER LXXVIII. — THE DUKES OF YORK AND GLOUCESTER, UNCLES TO THE KING, CONFEDERATE, WITH OTHER BARONS, AGAINST HIM AND HIS COUNCIL. — THE PEOPLE ARE DISCONTENTED WITH THE DUKE OF IRELAND. — THE LONDONER, THOUGH THE MEANS OF THE DUKE OF GLOUCESTER AND HIS FRIENDS, OBTAIN FROM THE KING, THAT A DAY SHOULD BE FIXED FOR THOS WHO HAD MANAGED THE FINANCES TO RENDER AN ACCOUNT OF THEM.

YOU have before heard, that the dukes of York and Gloucester had confederated with the earl of Salisbury, the earl of Arundel, the earl of Northumberland, the earl of Nottingham, and the archbishop of Canterbury, against the king and his council, with whom they were very much dissatisfied. They said, — “This duke of Ireland doth with the king and the realm as he pleases: the king has only base knaves about his person, without any regard to noblemen; and as long as he attends to no other advice than that of those now near him, things cannot go on well; for no kingdom can prosper when governed by wicked men. It is well known, that when a poor person is exalted and supported by his lord, he corrupts the people, and destroys the country; for what can a base-born man feel of honour? his sole wish is to enrich himself; just like the otter, who, on entering a pond, devours all the fish therein. Whence comes it that this duke of Ireland hath such power over the king, (we know his origin) and governeth all England at his pleasure, while the king’s uncles are disregarded? Such conduct is not longer to be suffered. We are not ignorant who the earl of Oxford was, and that in this country he had not one good quality, either of sense, honour or gentility allowed him.” “Sir John Chandos,” added a knight, “made him feel this very sharply once, at the palace of the prince of Wales, at St. Andrews, in Bordeaux.” “How so?” demanded another, who wished to know the particulars. “I will tell you,” replied the knight, “for I was present. Wine was serving round to the prince of Wales and a large party of English lords, in an apartment of his palace; and, when the prince had drunk, the cup was carried to sir John Chandos, as constable of Aquitaine, who took it and drank, without paying any attention to the earl of Oxford, father to this duke of Ireland, or desiring him to drink first. After sir Jon Chandos had drunk, one of his squires presented the wine to the earl of Oxford; but, indignant that Chandos had drunk before him, he refused it, and said, by way of mockery, to the squire, who was holding the cup, ‘Go, carry it to thy master, Chandos: let him drink.’ ‘Why should I go to him? for he has drunk. Drink yourself, since it is offered you; for, by St. George, if you do not, I will throw it in your face.’ The earl, afraid lest the squire should execute what he had said, for we was bold enough to do so, took the cup and put it to his mouth and drank, or at least pretended 264 to drink. Sir John Chandos was not far off, and heard and saw the whole, and his squire, whilst the prince was in conversation with others, came and told him what had passed. Sir John Chandos took no notice of it until the prince had retired, when, stepping up to the earl of Oxford, he said, — ‘what, sir Aubrey*, are you displeased that I drank first, whom am the constable of the country? I may well drink and take precedence before you, since my most renowned sovereign, the king of England, and my lords, the princes, assent to it. True it is, that you were at the battle of Poitiers; but all now present do not know the cause of it so well as I do: I will declare it, that they may remember it. When my lord, the prince, had finished his journey to Languedoc, Carcassonne and Narbonne, and was returned to this city of Bordeaux, you took it into your head that you would return to England; but what did the king say to you? I know it well, though I was not present. He asked if you had accomplished your service; and, afterward, what you had done with his son. You replied, “Sir, I left him in good health at Bordeaux.” “What?’ said the king, “and you have been bold enough to return hither without him? Did I not strictly enjoin you, and the others who accompanied him, never to return without him, under the forfeiture of your lands? and yet you have disobeyed my commands. I now positively order you to quit my kingdom within four days and return to the prince; for if you be found on the fifth day, you shall lose your life and estates.” You were afraid to hazard disobedience, as was natural, and left England. You were so fortunate, that you joined the prince four days before the battle of Poitiers, and had, that day, the command of forty lances, while I had sixty. Now, consider if I, who am constable of Aquitaine, have not the right to take precedence, and drink before you do.’ ‘The earl of Oxford was much ashamed, and would willingly have been anywhere but there. He was forced, however, to bear with what sir John Chandos said, who spoke aloud that all might hear him.” “After this,” said another knight, “we ought not to be surprised that the duke of Ireland, who is the son of this earl of Oxford, is not more considerate, and does not keep in his memory what may be told him of his father, instead of ruling the whole kingdom of England, and setting himself above the king’s uncles.” “And why should he not do so,” replied others, “since the king wills it?”

There were great murmurings throughout England against the duke of Ireland; but what injured him the most was his conduct to his duchess, the lady Philippa, daughter of the lord de Coucy earl of Bedford, who was a handsome and noble lady, and of the highest extraction. He fell in love with a German lady, one of the attendants of the present queen; and, by his solicitations at the court of Rome, pope Urban VI. granted him a divorce from the lady Philippa, without any title of justice, but through presumption and indifference. When he married his lady, king Richard consented thereto; for he was so blinded by the duke of Ireland that, if he had declared that black was white, the king would not have said to the contrary. The mother of the duke was mightily enraged with him for this conduct, and took the lord de Coucy’s daughter to her home and made her her own companion. The duke certainly acted ill, and evil befel him for it, as this was one of the principal causes of the hatred all England bore him†. It is but just that what is conceived in evil should have an unfortunate end; and this duke confided so much in the affection of the king, he thought no one would dare to injure him.

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 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 265 there must remain great sums in the treasury, the people ought to insist on having an account to 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-stable; 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, an especially in London, which is the chief key of the realms, so that the people rose in rebellion, to inquire into the government of the country, for that there had not for some time been anything 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 recommends itself to your care; and its citizens, as well as all England, entreat you would take upon you the government of the realms, and learn from those who have possessed themselves of the kingdom how it has been hither to governed; for the common people make bitter complaints, that taxes upon taxes are continually imposed, and that the kingdom, since the coronation 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 discontents 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 confederacy 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 affairs of your kingdom, from the mean and weak counsellors you have chosen. This has caused the mismanagement of affairs, as you must have seen; and if God, out of his mercy, had not stretched forth his hand, the country must inevitably have been ruined. For which, most redoubted lord, we supplicate 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 every 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 266 nothing should we not be present; for we are the principal personages in England, and will second you in hour remonstrance, 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 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 tend days, and the king will then be at Windsor; you may be 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 festival, 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 will.

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 archbishop of Canterbury, 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 form what the duke of Gloucester had said to them; and, as you have heart that, I need not take more notice of it. The 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 therefore 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, rests, or feet, or any way to punish; but justice consists in the maintaining 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 commissioners 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 nothing 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 267 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 untied, 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 country. 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 Northumberland, sir Reginald Cobham, sir Guy de Bryan, sir Thomas Felton, sir Mathew Gournay, and said there should be from two to four of the principal persons from each city or large towns, who would represent the commons of England. All this was assented to, and the time for heir 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, concerned 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, wither were summoned all collecters and receivers, from the different counties, with their receipts and acquittances, under pain of corporal punishment and confiscation of goods.

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*  This earl of Oxford’s name was Thomas. Sir Alberie de Vere was his brother. He was employed in different negotiations by Richard II.

Robert was the son and heir of Thomas, the last earl of Oxford, and created duke of Ireland.

See Dugdale’s Baronage.

†  Walsingham, speaking of this transaction, says, — “Accidit his diebus, ut Robertus Vere, elatus de honoribus quos rex impendebat eidem jugiter, suam repudiaret uxorem juvenculam, nobilem, atque pulchram, genitam de illustris Edwardi regis filia Isabella, et aliam duceret, quæ cum regina Anna venerat de Boemia (ut fertur) cujusdam Cellarii filiam, ignobilem prorsus atque fœdam: ob quam causam magna surrepsit occasio scandalorum (cujus nomen erat in vulgaria idiomate Lancecrona). Favebat sibi in his omnibus ipse rex, nolens ipsum in aliquo contristare, vel potius (prout dicitur) non valens suis votis aliqualiter obviare, qui maleficiis cujusdam fratris (qui cum dicto Roberto fuit) rex impeditus nequaquam quod bonum est et honestum cernere, vel sectari valebat.”

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CHAPTER LXXIX. — THE COMMISSIONERS OF ACCOUNTS CONDEMN SIR SIMON BURLEY TO BE IMPRISONED IN THE TOWER OF LONDON. — SIR THOMAS TRIVET IS KILLED BY A FALL FROM HIS HORSE. — SIR WILLIAM ELMHAM IS ACQUITTED OF HAVING TAKEN MONEY FOR THE SURRENDER OF BOURBOURG AND GRAVELINES.

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, notwithstanding 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 conjunction 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 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 Bois, and this sum he will shortly pay: I will offer the amount to the commissioners, 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, \ 268 and equally implicated? You must ask time for repayment. I know well that you can 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 thing: 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 common Londoners, and put an end to all this discontent they have raised against us and our friends.”

Sir Simon Burley pt 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 country, 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 negociating 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 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 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 nights, of taking money for the surrender of Bourbourg and Gravelines, prevented them doing the same: and some in England wanted to have their conduct (which has been before 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 he whole management was well know 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.

When the composition-money of the late sir Thomas Trivet, who was killed as you have heard, was paid, the blame cast on sir William Elmham was much lightened. His former deeds 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. But 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 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 269 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 honourably 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 to 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 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 went he was followed by the queen, and all the ladies and damsels of her court.

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*  Richmond.

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