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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. 524-545.
CHAPTER XL. — THE KING OF FRANCE SENDS HIS OWN PHYSICIANS AND SURGEONS TO VISIT THE CONSTABLE DURING THE NIGHT. — HE ORDERS THE PROVOST OF PARIS TO PURSUE SIR PETER DE CRAON, WHO HAD FLED FOR REFUGE TO THE DUKE OF BRITTANY. — SOME OF HIS MEN, HAVING REMAINED AT PARIS, ARE EXECUTED.
THUS was sir Oliver de Clisson left for dead at the baker’s who was much frightened when he learnt it was the constable. Sir Oliver’s attendants, who had been little hurt, for sir Peter de Craon’s men were only bent on killing their master, collected together as well as they could, and dismounting before the baker’s door, entered the shop, where they found their lord severely wounded on the head, and his face covered with blood. They were, as may be supposed, greatly affected, and with tears and groans bewailed his loss. For at the first moment they thought he was a dead man.
News of this was carried to the king at the hôtel de Saint Pol, just as he was going into bed. In much alarm, they said, “Ah, sire! we dare not conceal from you a shocking event that has just happened in Paris.” “What event?” asked the king. “Your constable, sir Oliver de Clisson, is murdered.” “Murdered!” repeated the king. “How? and who has done it?” “Sire, that we do not know; but this misfortune had befallen him hard by, in the great street of St. Catherine.” “Come, quickly light torches, for I will go and see him,” replied the king. The torches being ready, the varlets bore them before; and the king threw only a cloak over him, while the shoes were putting on his feet. The men at arms, and ushers of the guard of the palace escorted him. Those who were gone to bed, on hearing what had passed, instantly dressed themselves to follow the king, who had left the hôtel de Saint Pol in such haste that sir Walter Martel and sir John de Lignac, were the only chamberlains that attended him, for he would not wait for others, and thus he walked at a good pace with torches before and behind him. In this manner he arrived at the 525 baker’s shop, which he entered; but the chamberlains, with many torches, staid without. The king found his constable nearly in the state he had heard him to be in, except that he was not dead; for his servants had stripped him to see if he had received many wounds, and where they had been given. The first words the king said, were, “Constable how fares it with you?” “Dear sire,” replied he, “but so so, and very weak.” “And who has put you in this state?” “Sire, Peter de Craon and his accomplices have traitorously, and without the smallest suspicion, attacked me.” “Constable,” said the king, “nothing shall ever be more severely punished than this crime, nor can any sufferings make amends for it: run quickly,” added the king, “for doctors and surgeons.” These were before sent for; and they arrived from all quarters, particularly those attached to the king’s person. On their arrival, the king was well pleased, ad said, — “Attend well to my constable, and tell me what state he is in; for I am sorely grieved at his misfortune.” The doctors, having declared they would, examined him all over, the king being present, who was greatly angered at this event: he asked, “If there were any chance of death?” The doctors unanimously replied, — “Sire, certainly not; and, within fifteen days, we will restore him to you well enough to ride on horseback.” This answer pleased the king, who said, “God be praised, this is excellent news.” Then addressing himself to the constable, added: “Take care of yourself, and do not think of this or other business; no crime shall be more rigorously punished than that of these traitors: they shall pay for it as if it were done to myself.” The constable faintly answered, “May God repay you all, and for your kindness in this visit.”
On this, the king took leave and returned to his palace, and sent for the provost of Paris, who made no long delay before he arrived, for it was now quite day. When the provost entered, the king said, — “Take with you a body of armed men, and pursue that traitor, Peter de Craon, who has treacherously assassinated, and nearly murdered, our constable. You cannot do us a more agreeable service than to take him and bring him before us.” The provost replied,— “Sire, I will do every thing in my power; but what road do you suppose he may have taken?” “Inquire, and make good diligence,” said the king. At that time, the four principal gates of Paris were always open night and day: this regulation had been observed from the time the king returned from Flanders, after defeating the Flemings at the battle of Rosebecque, and when the Parisians, showing symptoms of rebellion, had their mallets taken from them. In order the more easily to chastise the Parisians, sir Oliver de Clisson had advised the chains to be taken from across the streets, and the gates off their hinges, which had been, for the last ten years, lying against the walls, so that any one might enter, or go out of Paris, at all hours. Now, observe how the seasons repay, sir Oliver reaped what he had sown himself: had the gates and changes remained, sir Peter de Craon would not have dared to commit this outrage, for he could never have got out of Paris, but knowing he could set off at any hour, he was encouraged thus to disgrace himself. When he left the constable, he concluded he was dead, or at least that he would never recover; but it was not so, as you have heard, to his great mortification. He quitted Paris by St. Anthony’s gate, about one o’clock in the morning, and, as some say, crossed the Seine at the bridge of Charenton, and continued his road to Chartres; but, according to others, after going out of Paris, he returned by the gate of St. Honoré, under Montmartre, and crossed the Seine at Ponçon. Whichever way he passed the river, he arrived at Chartres at eight o’clock in the morning, with some of the best mounted of his accomplices. All did not follow but took different routes, and in small companies, to avoid being taken in the pursuit. On his way to Paris he had ordered twenty horses to be in waiting for him, at the house of a canon, who was his friend and had served him; but it would have been better for him never to have known him, although the canon was ignorant of the crime he had committed. Sir Peter de Craon, on his arrival at Chartres, drank some wine and changed horses, and then instantly departed, taking the road for Maine. He continued his journey, until he came to a strong castle he still possessed, called Sablé, where he stopped and refreshed himself, and said he would not go further, but wait there until he heard some intelligence of the constable.
On the Friday, the day following this assassination, it was all the news of Paris, and every one greatly blamed sir Peter de Craon. The lord de Coucy was no sooner informed, than 526 he mounted his horse, attended by only seven persons, and rode to the constable’s hôtel behind the Temple, whither he had been carried; for they mutually loved each other, styling themselves brothers and companions in arms. This interview with the lord de Coucy was of service to the constable; and he was visited by all the other lords of the court. The duke of Touraine accompanied the king in his next visit: the two brothers were very wroth, and said sir Peter de Craon had committed this crime in spite of them; and that it was a plot formed by traitors to throw the kingdom into confusion. The duke of Berry, who was at the time in Paris, dissembled his sentiments, and seemed to make light of what had passed. I, the author of this history, was then informed, that if he had pleased, this accident would not have happened, for it was in his power to have prevented it, and I will tell you how.
The day of the feast of the holy sacrament, a clerk who was one of the familiars of sir Peter de Craon, came to the duke of Berry, and said: “My lord, I would willingly open my mind to you, respecting some improper conduct that is going forward, which is illegal, and may end unfortunately, for you are more able than any other to put a stop to it.” “What is it?” asked the duke. “My lord, I must first insist that you promise my name shall never be brought into question; for, to prevent great mischief being done, and the peril that may ensure in the matter, I am come to discover the whole to you.” “Speak out the, boldly,” replied the duke: “I will bear you through it.” “My lord,” said the clerk, “I very much suspect that sir Peter de Craon intends murdering the constable; for he has collected within his hôtel, in the church-yard of St. John, a number of companions, whom he has secretly kept there, ever since Whitsuntide. Should he accomplish his purpose, the king will be exceedingly vexed, and confusion ensue to the kingdom. It is for this I disclose it to you, my lord; for, although I am secretary to my lord of Craon, and have sworn fidelity to him, I cannot suffer such an outrage to be committed. If you do not take measures to prevent this, none other will, at this moment, and I beg you will remember what I have now told you, at a proper opportunity; for, since I find sir Peter de Craon is determined to persevere in this business, I must fly, and never again return to his service.” The duke of Berry well comprehended all the clerk had told. He said to him, “Remain with me to-day, and to-morrow morning I will inform my lord of this plot. It is now too late, and I wish not to trouble the king on such a day as this, but to-morrow, I will not fail doing it; and we will provide a remedy, since sir Peter de Craon is in the town, which I was ignorant of.” Thus, by the delay and negligence of the duke of Berry, did the mischief happen, as I have related.
The provost of Paris, with upwards of sixty horse, issued out at the gate of St. Honoré, on the traces of sir Peter de Craon. When he came to Ponçon, to cross the Seine, he asked the bridge-keeper, if any one had passed that morning? He answered, “Yes, my lord, a company of about twelve horsemen; but I did not see any knight or person whom I know.” “And what road did they take?” demanded the provost. “That leading to Vannes,” said the bridge-master. “Ah,” replied the provost, “it may very probably be they, who are making for Cherbourg.” He then quitted the road to Chartres, following that to Cherbourg, and thus lost all traces of them. When they had rode on the road to Vannes till it was dinner-time, they met a knight of that country hare-hunting; and, making inquiry from him, he said that he had seen in the morning about fifteen horsemen riding over the fields, and he thought they were going to Chartres. Upon this, the provost again changed his road, and, arriving in the evening at Chartres learnt that sir Peter de Craon had been at the canon’s house about eight o’clock, where he had disarmed himself and changed horses. He now saw that all further pursuit would be in vain, as sir Peter had got so much before him, and returned to Paris on the Saturday.
The king of France and the duke of Touraine were very anxious to lay hands on sir Peter de Craon; and, as it was uncertain what road he had taken, they ordered sir John le Barrois, with sixty horse, after him by the gate of St. Anthony. Sir John crossed the Seine and Marne at the bridge of Charenton, and scoured the whole country as far as Estampes. On Saturday he arrived to dinner at Chartres, where he heard the truth of his escape, and concluded it would be fruitless to follow him, as he must be at too great a distance. He returned to Paris on the Sunday, and related to the king the country he had been over, with the same ill success as the provost had before complained of.
527On the Saturday morning, the officers of justice, who had been searching all the villages round Paris, discovered in a hamlet seven leagues from Paris, two men at arms, squires to sir Peter de Craon, and his page, who had stopped in this village from inability or unwillingness to proceed further. They were arrested by the officers, brought back to Paris, and executed on the Monday following. They were, however, first led to the place where the crime had been committed, and each had his hand cut off at the wrist: they were then beheaded in the market-place, and their bodies hung on a gibbet. On the Wednesday following, sir Peter’s house-steward was executed; but many said this was unjustly done, while others replied, that he suffered for not having revealed the arrival of sir Peter de Craon at Paris. The canon of Chartres, at whose house sir Peter had stopped to refresh himself and change horses, was arrested and confined in the bishop’s prison. Everything he possessed was confiscated, and himself condemned to perpetual imprisonment on bread and water: no excuses he could plead for his innocence in this matter were of the smallest avail, though he bore in Chartres the character of an honest prudent man*.
Sir Peter de Craon was exceedingly vexed, when he heard for certain, at his castle of Sablé, whither he had retired, that the constable was not dead, and had not received any wounds that, in six weeks’ time, could prevent him mounting his horse. He considered that he would not be safe in this castle when it should be known where he was, and that he would be too closely surrounded to quit it when he pleased. He, in consequence, gave the charge of it to some of his people, and left it secretly, taking the road towards Brittany, where he arrived without stopping and found the duke at Susmet†. The duke, who had already heard the issue of the assassination, and that the constable was not dead, said, on receiving sir Peter de Craon, “You are a poor creature, who cannot slay a man when you have him in your power.” “My lord,” replied sir Peter, “it was a damnable business. I believe all the devils in hell, to whom he belongs, defended him and preserved him from mine and my men’s blows. There were upwards of sixty thrusts and cuts made at him with swords and cutlasses; and when he was knocked off his horse, in good truth, I thought he was dead; but his good fortune made him fall against the hatch of a baker’s shop that was half open, by which means he rolled into the shop. Had he fallen in the street, we would have killed him and trampled him under our horses’ feet.” “Well,” said the duke, “it cannot be otherwise at present. I am sure it will not be long before I hear from the king of France, and shall incur as much hatred as yourself. Keep quiet near me; for I am convinced things will not remain as they now are, but that the king and constable will wage a serious war against me. However, since I promised you protection, I will keep my word.”
* A process was instituted against Peter de Craon, who was condemned for contumacy, All his goods were confiscated, his houses taken possession of, his furniture seized by the king and his lands given to the duke of Orleans and other courtiers. The monk of St. Denis relates that Jean de Vienne, the admiral of France, who was charged with taking possession of the estate of Ferté-Bernard, disgraced himself by infamously outraging the modesty of Jeanne de Chastillon the wife of Peter de Craon, and her daughter, a celebrated beauty of the time, and afterwards turning them out of doors in their chemises. — ED.
† “Au Susmet.” Q. Succinio, which was a residence of the duke of Brittany.
CHAPTER XLI. — THE KING OF FRANCE SUMMONS THE DUKE OF BRITTANY TO DELIVER UP SIR PETER DE CRAON. — HIS ANSWER NOT BEING SATISFACTORY, THE KING DECLARES WAR AGAINST HIM. — THE KING’S UNCLES MURMUR AT THE GREAT RICHES OF THE CONSTABLE, WHICH WERE DISCLOSED BY HIS WILL.
INTELLIGENCE was brought to the king of France, some days after the assassination of the constable, that the duke of Brittany had received sir Peter de Craon. His most confidential counsellors advised him to send instantly to the duke of Brittany, and summon him, on his faith and homage, should that false traitor to the crown of France, sir Peter de Craon, be in any parts of Brittany, to arrest him and send him without delay to France. When these letters were written and sealed, they were given to one of the king’s messengers, who set out for Brittany, and found the duke at this castle of Ermine, near Vannes. The duke, 528 having received and read the letters, told the messenger, he would write an answer to the king. The substance of it was, that he excused himself from knowing anything of sir Peter de Craon, or where he was; nor did he wish to know anything, for it was no concern of his; and that, as to sir Peter’s hatred and quarrel with sir Oliver de Clisson, it no way touched or regarded him, and he entreated the king to hold him excused. When this answer had been properly drawn up and sealed, it was given to the messenger, who returned with it to Paris. The king and his council were impatient to receive the duke’s answer; and, when the letters were delivered to the king, he attentively read them, and turning to his brother the duke of Touraine, and the council, said — “This is not satisfactory.” Others replied, that the duke of Brittany was at the bottom of the whole mischief. The king and the duke of Touraine declared that such an outrage was too great to be lightly passed over, and was a direct attack on the royal majesty of France.
The duke of Berry was at this time in Paris, and, in his frequent visits to the palace, the king talked much to him concerning the crime of sir Peter de Craon. the duke replied: “My lord, he had certainly committed a great outrage; and if it were known where he was, I would advise that he be arrested and punished for it.” “Good uncle,” said the king, “he is now with the duke in Brittany, and nowhere else: we are determined to march thither, and you shall accompany us.” The duke of Berry assented, though he was dissembling his real sentiments, and added, “My lord, we must have our good brother of Burgundy also with us.” “We will have him,” replied the king, “for we will not go without him; and our army shall be of strength sufficient to conquer all our enemies. We now clearly see, that this duke of Brittany neither loves nor esteems us. Good uncle, he is very proud and presumptuous; and we will not attend to any other affair until we have brought him to reason.” Thus did the king and the duke of Berry converse together: the duke assented to everything his nephew proposed, though determined, in his own mind, to act in opposition to it. The king of France was too earnest in his desire to revenge the insult offered his constable, and was daily pressing forward the preparations for his expedition to Brittany. He was to march first into Anjou, to destroy all the castles and possessions held there by sir Peter de Craon, notwithstanding the duke of Brittany claimed them for his own by purchase. The king and his council answered, that he had never had possession given him of them; and that from having supported and protected sir Peter de Craon, he had incurred personally the indignation of the crown of France, although a marriage had this season been formed between the son of the duke and a princess of France.
While these preparations were going forward, and the rumour of the king’s expedition against Brittany was every where talked of in France, the bishop of Noyon and the lord de la /Riviere returned to Paris, having fulfilled their mission to Béarn and Foix. They related to the king and council what they had done, but the affairs of Brittany occupied so entirely the time of the council, that they could not attend to anything else; and the king was impatient for the constable to be sufficiently recovered to mount his horse.
Before the king left Paris, he commanded the very handsome hôtel sir Peter de Craon had, near the church-yard of Saint John, to be razed to the ground, and the spot given for an addition to the church-yard. The king ordered large provision of stores to be made on the roads to Anjou, Maine, Touraine, Brittany, and long the banks of the Loire, ready for his intended expedition; for no one dared to make any opposition to it. It was well known in Paris, and likewise in different parts of the country, that sir Oliver de Clisson, constable of France, had made his will, in order that, in case of death from his wounds, his heirs might know where to seek for his wealth. He had but two children, both females, one married to John of Brittany, count de Penthievre, whom he had ransomed from England for six score thousand francs paid to the duke of Ireland, as has been related. His other daughter was, or would be viscountess de Rohan, in right of her husband. The whole of his money and moveable property, without including any part of his heritage, amounted to seventeen hundred thousand francs, to the great astonishment of all who heard it, as to the means by which he had been able to amass so large a sum. The dukes of Berry and Burgundy, in particular, were much surprised, as well as their councils, for the constable was not any way 529 in favour with them: so that, when among themselves they thus spoke very freely on the subject: “How the devil can this constable have collected such an immense sum of florins, and such splendid furniture? The king of France has nothing like it. We must suppose that it has not been lawfully acquired.” This passed off; but those who hated him did not think the less of it.
The king was still at Paris, though his preparations were ready; and all who had been summoned to accompany the expedition to Brittany were assembling accordingly. The duke of Burgundy was, however, much vexed at this war, saying it was made without reason, and would end badly; for neither France nor Brittany, nor their knights and squires, were anyway concerned in the quarrel between sir Oliver de Clisson and sir Peter de Craon; nor had they any business to make war on their account, but should let them fight it out themselves, without thus destroying and harassing the poor of both countries. The duke of Berry was of the same opinion; but they could not be heard, for the king had other counsellors to whom he listened in preference. They knew not, therefore, how to prevent the war from taking place, and when they saw the king was obstinately bent upon it, they obeyed, but as slowly as they could. I heard, and believe it true, that, through the intervention of the duke of Burgundy, the count d’Ostrevant was summoned by the king of France to attend him with three hundred lances: the count, who loved arms, made his preparations, and summoned his vassals, but, when he had completed everything, at a great expense, he received counter-orders, not to stir.
CHAPTER XLII. — THE DUKE OF TOURAINE IS CREATED DUKE OF ORLEANS. — THE CONSTABLE OF FRANCE BEING RECOVERED, THE KING OF FRANCE ADVANCES TO MANS, WITH THE INTENTION OF CONTINUING HIS MARCH, TO MAKE WAR ON THE DUKE OF BRITTANY.
WHEN all things were ready for the king’s departure from Paris, an exchange of lands was made between the king and he duke of Touraine, but this exchange was greatly in favour of the duke; for he surrendered to his brother the duchy of Touraine and its dependencies, receiving in return the duchy of Orleans, which was of four times the value, on the same terms and conditions that Philip duke of Orleans had formerly held it We shall henceforward call him duke of Orleans*. The king was so pleased when sir Oliver de Clisson had recovered from his wounds sufficiently to ride, that he said he would now set out from Paris to Brittany, to show he made the quarrel his own. In consequence, he and the duke of Orleans took leave of the queen, the duchess, and the other ladies and damsels who were at the hôtel de Saint Pol, and went that night to the house of his minister, Montagu, where they supped and lay. The duke of Bourbon, the count de Namur, and the lord de Coucy, went with them. I know not if they all lay there, but the king did so and dined there on the morrow. In the afternoon he departed in handsome array, and supped and lay at St. Germain-en-Laye, where he remained several days. At this period, according to the report of his physicians, the king’s health was not good; but, he was so impatient to carry on the war, he declared his health was better than theirs. This he said to push forward the business; for his two uncles of Berry and Burgundy were still behind, and showed clearly the expedition was contrary to their opinion, and that willingly they would avoid going with him. The had, however, issued summons to their vassals, for they were bound in honour to accompany the king.
When the king ha sojourned at St. Germain for fifteen days, and the different lords were arrived, or on the road, he was advised to depart. He did so, crossed the Seine, and marching for Chartres, arrived at Auneau, a good town and handsome castle, that belonged to the lord de la Riviere in right of his wife. In company with him were the dukes of Orleans and Bourbon. The lord de la Riviere received the king and these lords very magnificently, as he was well able to do, and they remained his guest for three days. On the fourth day they 530 departed, and went to Chartres, of which place the brother of Montagu was bishop. The king, the duke of Orleans, and the duke of Bourbon, were lodged in the episcopal palace. On the second day, the duke of Berry, and the count de la Marche, came there; but the duke of Burgundy was still behind. He had begun his journey, and on the fourth day arrived, to the great joy of the king. Men at arms were pouring in from all quarters; and the king said he would never return to Paris until he had made this duke of Brittany listen to reason, who had so often given him plague and vexation. There were too many about the king, who urged him on; so that the dukes of Berry and Burgundy, who wished for more moderate counsels, were not attended to. This created a disgust in them and their advisers; and they said among themselves, that public affairs could not long remain in their present hazardous and unsettled circumstances, and that the king was cutting out for himself and kingdom work enough, when he rejected the advice of his uncles and listened to others of little weight. After staying about seven days in Chartres, he departed for Mans. He was followed by men at arms from Artois, Beauvais, Vermandois and Picardy, and other distant countries. They said when together, — “How comes this duke of Brittany to give us so much trouble. He is full of pride, and has never been truly affectionate to the crown of France. If it had not been for his cousin, the late earl of Flanders, who supported him, and the duchess of Burgundy, who does so at this moment, he would long ago have been destroyed. He never could bear the lord de Clisson from the moment he quitted the English party, and is greatly to blame now in assisting sir Peter de Craon against the king and the constable.” Others replied, — “Let the king alone; for he has taken this business so much to heart he will make the duke repent of it before he returns.” “That he will,’ said others, “if there be no treachery in his way. Do you suppose that all who now accompany him are enemies to the duke of Brittany? Certainly not; for whatever they may dare say, they show their intentions too openly by their actions. They are plotting night and day how they may prevent this expedition, and they harass the king so much, it will be well if he keep his health.”
Such were the conversations of the men at arms on their march, following the king to Maine. The king, on his arrival at Mans was lodged in the castle, and his lords in the town as well as the state of its accommodations would allow. The army spread themselves abroad in the plains, which were rich and good lodging for men at arms. The king and his court remained in the city of Mans upwards of three weeks, for the king was in a very feverish state and unfit to ride. The physicians told the duke of Orleans and his uncles, that the king was oppressed with too much business, and was not in a situation to go through it; that rest and quiet were absolutely necessary, for that ever since he had left Amiens after the conferences, his health had not been so good as it was formerly. The king’s uncles remonstrated on all this with the council, for the king would not pay any attention to what the physicians said; and he was so impatient to carry the war into Brittany, he told his uncles, that he was always better when on horseback, than when doing nothing; and added, “Whoever advises me to the contrary will highly displease me, and show he has not any love for me.” This was all the answer he would give. Every day there was a council holden, which lasted until noon, or beyond it; and the king would always be present, to check any delays being made to the expedition into Brittany.
* He was created Duke of Orleans on the 4th of June 1393. — ED.
CHAPTER XLIII. — THE KING OF FRANCE, DURING HIS STAY AT MANS, AGAIN SENDS SOME NOBLE PERSONAGES TO THE DUKE OF BRITTANY, WITH ORDERS TO DISMISS SIR PETER DE CRAON. — THE KING IF INFORMED THAT SIR PETER IS ARRESTED AT BARCELONA BY COMMAND OF THE QUEEN OF ARRAGON.
THE king was advised, during his stay at Mans, to which he assented, out of affection for his uncles, to send four knights to Brittany. They were to remonstrate strongly with the duke, on the part of the king and council, how greatly he had misbehaved by affording an asylum to an enemy of the king and realm; and that, if he were desirous to acknowledge his fault, and make amends for it, he must send sir Peter Craon to Mans, when they 531 would endeavour to make his peace with the king, and prevent this expedition from doing harm to him or to his country. According to what I heard, sir Reginald de Roye, the lord de Garencieres, the lord de Château-morant, and sir Taupin de Cantemelle, governor of Gisors, were ordered on this mission. They left the city of Mans with forty lances, and, having passed through Angers, journeyed on to Nantes, when, having entered the town, they found there the duke. He gave them a good welcome, and entertained them with a splendid dinner; but, before this, they had fulfilled their commission, and had ably explained to him the object of their coming, and what the king and council had ordered them to say. The duke answered prudently and nobly, “that he would be most happy to arrest and give up to the king sir Peter de Craon, but, as God might help him, he neither knew where he was, nor what he was about: he therefore entreated these lords to make his peace, for he had assured them of the truth;” adding, “he had heard, upwards of a year ago, sir Peter de Craon declare, that sir Oliver de Clisson hated him so mortally, he would attack him the first favourable opportunity, with all the force he could muster, let the event be what it would. When he told me this, I asked if he had notified this to sir Oliver: he said he had, and had sent him his defiance; adding, that he would put him to death, by day or night, the very first time he met him. I know nothing further of the matter, and am surprised that my lord should think of making war on me for this cause. Begging his pardon, I do not feel that I am any way so blameable, either towards him or the kingdom of France, that war should be declared against me; for never will I infringe, if it please God, the alliances that have been entered into between us, as well in regard to the marriage of our children, as respecting other matters.” This was the answer the French knights received from the duke of Brittany; and, when they had dined with him, and remained one day more at Nantes, they took leave, and set out on their return the way they had come.
The king and council were impatient for their arrival, to hear the duke’s answer. What you have just heard, the knights repeated to the king, and to those interested, from the duke of Brittany. The dukes of Berry and Burgundy were well satisfied with it, and would have persuaded others to be so likewise, saying the answer was proper and reasonable. But the king declared that, from the information he had received, he was of a contrary opinion, and since he was come so far, he would never return to Paris until he had humbled the duke of Brittany. The dukes of Berry and Burgundy would willingly have altered this declaration, had they known how, but they were not attended to; and the king had taken such a hatred to sir Peter de Craon, whom he said the duke of Brittany secreted in his country, that no excuses were of avail.
There was a report at Mans, and in many other places of France, that the lady Jolande de Bar, queen of Arragon, and cousin-german to the king of France, had thrown into the prisons of Barcelona, a knight who was unknown to her or to her people; and, from his refusal to tell his name, he was thought to be sir Peter de Craon. The queen of Arragon, wishing to please the king, wrote to him in the most friendly terms, to say, — “that on the fifth day of July a knight, with a handsome array, had come to Barcelona, with intent to cross the sea; that he had hired, at a very dear rate, a vessel to carry him, as he said, to Naples. Having had all our ports well guarded, so that no stranger could leave there without permission, and this knight refusing to say who he was, we have detained him in prison. We suppose, from the great anxiety he shows for his liberty, that he is the knight you are seeking for, and on whose account you have written to us. Have the goodness, therefore, to send hither, as speedily as may be, some persons who are acquainted with sir Peter de Craon; for he whom we hold in prison shall not be set at liberty until we have heard from you. We shall learn with pleasure that the intelligence we have sent has been agreeable to you and to your council. May the Holy Spirit have you in his keeping! Written at Perpignan the ninth day of July,” and signed, “Jolande de Bar, queen of Arragon and Majorca, lady of Sardinia.” The superscription was, “To our very redoubted lord the king of France.”
This intelligence softened the hearts of many, and the expedition was on the point of being broken off; but the friends of the constable thought this was an invented story, to prevent the king from advancing further; and that sir Peter de Craon was in danger of no other 532 prison than what the duke of Brittany pleased, for he was safely in refuge within his duchy. The king paid no attention to this letter, saying it was all deceit; but the duke of Burgundy replied, — “At least, my lord, to satisfy my niece of Arragon, who has written to you, and to deliver this knight, if he be guiltless, condescend to send some one thither, that our cousin may not be displeased with you and with us.” “We are very willing to do so, good uncle,” said the king, “for I wish not to vex you. Let some persons be sent to Barcelona; but I am firmly persuaded that the traitor, Peter de Craon, is not there, nor in any prison but the duke of Brittany’s palace; and I swear, by the faith I owe St. Denis, that one day he shall severely pay for it.” Nothing could alter the king’s opinion that sir Peter de Craon was in Brittany. The duke of Brittany received regular information of what was passing, and, as the king was so much enraged against him, was not well satisfied of his security; for he saw that the dukes of Berry and Burgundy had no weight in the council, and that the party of his adversary, Clisson, led the king just as they pleased. He had his castles and towns most strictly guarded; but, unfortunately for him, there were no towns or castles he dared trust his person to, excepting Vannes, Campel, Dol, Quimperlé, Ermine, Quimper-Corentin, and Suseniot. He had written to the knights and barons of Brittany, from whom he looked for support and advice, but they all dissembled with him, seeing the king, their lord paramount, so wroth against him, and from his so openly taking the part of sir Peter de Craon against the king and the constable, which was very indecent. He almost repented what he had done; but, his spirit was so lofty, he disdained to own it, and he said to himself, — “If the king, as he seems now inclined, enter Brittany with his army, I will not, at the beginning make any opposition, that I may see who are my friends and enemies, nor will I hurry myself to retaliate; but, when he shall think himself in full security, I will fall upon him, since there is no other way of obtaining peace.”
Thus did the duke counsel with himself, and at times with his ministers; for he concluded that a war with France was now inevitable. It was not so, however, for matters turned out otherwise than he expected, to his great advantage. The old proverb says, “He is not poor who is lucky.” The duke of Brittany was wondrous fortunate at this season, from an astonishing and pitiable accident that befel the king of France. Nothing less could have withdrawn from him the dangers he was surrounded by, and permitted him the enjoyment of peace.
CHAPTER XLIV. — THE KING, HAVING LEFT MANS TO CARRY ON HIS WAR AGAINST BRITTANY, IS ORDERED TO RETURN, BY AN UNKNOWN PERSON. — THIS SAME DAY, HIS MIND IS DERANGED, AND HE IS BROUGHT BACK TO MANS.
WHEN the king of France had resided about three weeks in the city of mans, during which time councils were daily held, and when the knights were returned with the duke of Brittany’s answer, as you have heard; the king said, that since he knew what to depend on, he would not longer stay at Mans, for it was displeasing and hurtful to him, but advance to the frontiers of Brittany, nearer this duke, who was supporting the traitor, sir Peter de Craon. The intention of the king was to deprive the duke of Brittany of his duchy, and nominate a governor of it, until his children should be of age to have it restored to them, but the present duke was to be driven thence; and this determination was so firmly rooted in his mind, nothing could make him change it. He set out from Mans between nine and ten o’clock in the morning; and the lords and others who had been quartered there prepared to follow him, after they had heard mass and drank a cup. He had, the evening before, sent for the marshals of his army to his chamber, an ordered them to have the men at arms ready by early morn to march to Angers; “for,” he added, “we have determined never to return from Brittany, until we shall have destroyed the traitors who give us so much trouble.” The marshals gave their orders for the army to march on the morrow, and assured the captains that it was now determined upon to pursue the road to Brittan. The day the king left Mans was excessively hot, as was to be expected, for it was the middle of August, when the sun is in its greatest force.
533You must know, in order perhaps to account truly for what followed, that the king, during his stay at Mans laboured hard and assiduously in the council where he had but little assistance, and was beside not perfectly recovered in health. He had been the whole summer feeble in body and mind, scarcely eating or drinking any thing, and almost daily attacked with fever, to which he was naturally inclined, and this was increased by any contradiction or fatigue. He suffered much from the insult offered his constable, so that his physicians and uncles noticed that at times his intellects were deranged; but they could not do any thing, for he would not listen to what they proposed, nor would he consent, on any account, to defer the expedition to Brittany.
I was told that a strange accident happened to him as he was riding through the forest of Mans, for which he ought to have assembled his council instead of pursing his march farther. A man, bareheaded, with naked feet, clothed in a jerkin of white russet*, that showed he was more mad than otherwise, rushed out from among the trees, and boldly seized the reins of the king’s horse. Having thus stopped him, he said, “King, ride no further, but return, for thou art betrayed.” This speech made such an impression on the king’s mind, which was weak, that his understanding was shaken. As the man finished his speech, the men at arms advanced and beat him soundly on his hand, which made him drop the reins. They suffered him to run off, without paying attention to what he had said, thinking he was some madman, for which they were by many afterwards greatly blamed and disgraced: they ought at least to have arrested him, to have examined if he were really mad, and to learn why he had uttered such words, and whence he had come. Nothing, however, was done, and he made off by their rear, and was never after seen by any who had the least knowledge of him. Those who were near the king’s person heard very plainly the words he had spoken.
The king and his army passed on; and it might be about twelve o’clock when they were clear of the forest. They now entered an extensive sandy plain; and the sun was so resplendent, and in such force, that scarcely any could endure the heat: the horses, consequently suffered much. There were none so used to arms as not to complain of the oppressive heat; and the lords took different routes, apart from each other. The king rode by himself, to have less dust; and the dukes of Berry and Burgundy, conversing together, kept on his left hand, at about two acres’ distance from him. The other lords, such as the count de la Marche, sir James de Bourbon, sir Charles d’Albret, sir Philip d’Artois, sir Henry and sir Philip de Bar, sir Peter de Navarre, rode in different paths. The duke of Bourbon, the lord de Coucy, sir Charles d’Angers, the baron d’Ivry, were following at a gentle pace, talking together, and some distance from the king, not suspecting the misfortune which was on the point of befalling him It was manifestly the work of God, whose punishments are severe, to make his creatures tremble. Have we not seen many similar examples, both in the Old and the New Testament, especially in the instance of Nebuchadnezzar, king of the Assyrians? He reigned over them with such power, that nothing was spoken of but his magnificence and glory; when suddenly, in the midst of his pomp, the Lord of kings, GOD, the Master of heaven and earth, and Creator of all things, struck him in such wise that he lost his senses and his kingdom. He continued for seven years in this deplorable state, living on acorns and wild fruits, having the taste of a wild boar or hog. After this period of penitence, God restored to him his senses and memory; upon which he declared to Daniel, the servant of the Lord, that there was none other god but the God of Israel. To speak truly, GOD the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, three in name, but one in substance, was, is, and ever will be, of as sufficient power to declare his works as from the beginning, and one ought not, therefore, to be surprised at whatever wonderful things happen.
The reason why I thus speak is, that a great influence from heaven this day fell on the king of France, and, as some say, from his own fault. The physicians of his body, who ought to have known well his constitution, declared, that considering the weak state of his health, he should not have exposed himself to the heat of the day, but have rode in the cool of the mornings or evenings. Those who had advised otherwise were disgraced; but he had been long led by his ministers to act just as they pleased. The king rode over this 534 sandy plain, that reflected the heat, which was much greater than had been ever before known or felt in that season: he was besides dressed in a jacket of black velvet that added to the warmth, and had only a single hood of crimson, ornamented with a chaplet of large beautiful pearls the queen had presented to him on his leaving her. He was followed by one of his pages, who had a Montauban cap of polished steel on his head that glittered in the sun, and behind him another page rode on horseback, carrying a vermilion-covered lance, enveloped with silk for the king, the head of which lance was broad, sharp and bright. The lord de la Riviere had brought a dozen such when he last came from Toulouse, and this was one; for he had presented the whole to the king, who had given three to the duke of Orleans, and the same number to the duke of Burgundy.
As they were thus riding, the pages, who were but children, grew negligent of themselves and their horses; and the one who bore the lance fell asleep, and, forgetful of what he had in his hand, let it fall on the casque of the page before him, which made both the lance and the casque ring loudly. The king, being so near, (the pages rode almost on the heels of the horse,) was startled and shuddered; for he had in his mind the words the wise man or fool had spoken when he seized his horse’s reins in the forest of Mans, and fancied a host of enemies were come to slay him. In this distraction of mind, he drew his sword, and advanced on the pages, for his senses were quite gone, and imagined himself surrounded by enemies, giving blows of his sword, indifferent on whom they fell, and bawled out, “Advance! advance on these traitors.” The pages, seeing the king thus wroth, took care of themselves, for they imagined they had angered him by their negligence, and spurred their horses different ways. The duke of Orleans was not far distant from the king, who made up to him with his drawn sword, for at that moment his frenzy had deprived him of the means of knowing either his brother or his uncles. The duke of Orleans, seeing him approach with his naked sword, grew alarmed, and, spurring his horse, made off and the king after him. The duke of Burgundy, hearing the cries of the pages, cast his eyes to that quarter, and seeing the king pursuing his brother with his drawn sword, was thunderstruck, and not without reason: he cried out for help, saying, — “My lord has lost his senses: for God’s sake lay hands on him:” and then added, “Fly, fair nephew of Orleans; fly, or my lord will murder you.” The duke of Orleans was much frightened, and galloped as fast as his horse could go, followed by knights and squires. There were now great shoutings, insomuch that those at a distance thought they were hunting a wolf or hare, until they learnt it was the king, who was not himself.
The duke of Orleans, however, escaped by making several turns, and was aided by knights, and squires, and men at arms, who surrounded the king, and allowed him to waste his strength on them; for, of course, the more he exerted himself, the weaker he grew. When he made a blow at any one knight or squire, they fell before the stroke, and I never heard that in this fit of madness any one was killed†. Several were struck down by his blows, because no one made any defence. At last, when he was quite jaded and running down with sweat, and his horse in a lather from fatigue, a Norman knight, who was one of his chamberlains, and much beloved by him, called sir William Martel, came behind, and caught him in is arms, though he had his sword still in his hand. When he was thus held all the other lords came up, and took the sword from him: he was dismounted, and gently laid on the ground, that his jacket might be stripped from him, to give him more air and cool him. His three uncles and brothers approached; but he had lost all knowledge of them, showing no symptoms of acquaintance or affection, but rolled his eyes round in his head without speaking to any one. The princes of the blood were in amazement, and knew not what to say nor how to act. The dukes of Berry and Burgundy at length said, “We must return to Mans, for the expedition is at an end for this season.” They did not then say all they thought; but they made their intentions very apparent to those who were not in their good graces, on their return to Paris, as I shall relate in the course of this history. It must be owned, that when all things are considered, it was a great pity for a king of France, who is the most noble and powerful princes in the world, to be thus suddenly deprived of his senses. 535 There could not be any remedy applied, nor any amendment expected, since God willed it should be so.
Having undressed and cooled him as gently as they could they laid him on a litter, and carried him slowly to Mans. The marshals instantly sent orders for the van to return, and the whole army was informed there was an end to the expedition. To some, the reasons were told why it was thus put an end to, to others not. The evening the king was brought back to Mans, his physicians were much occupied with him, and the princes of his blood in the utmost trouble. The event was spoken of very differently: some said that the king, to ruin the kingdom of France, had been poisoned, or bewitched, the morning before he left Mans. These words were so often repeated, that they came to the ears of the duke of Orleans and others of the blood-royal. In conversation together, they said, — “Do you hear, (for you must, unless you shut your ears) what murmurings there are against the king’s ministers? It is reported, and commonly believed, that he ahs been poisoned or bewitched now, how can we know whether this has been done or not?” Some made answer, “From his physicians, for they must know his habit and constitution.” The physicians were sent for, and most strictly examined by the duke of Burgundy. To this examination they replied, “that the king had, for a long time, been suffering under this disorder; and, knowing that this weakness of intellect oppressed him grievously, it would make its appearance.” The duke of Burgundy told the physicians, “that in the whole of the matter they had honestly acquitted themselves, but that the king, from his great anxiety to undertake this war, would not listen to any advice on the subject of his health. Cursed be this expedition, and unhappy is it that ever it was proposed, for it has been his destruction; and it would have been better that Clisson and his whole race had been murdered, than that the king had been afflicted with such a disorder. News of it will be carried everywhere, and, as he is now but a young man, we who are his uncles, and of his blood, who should have advised him, shall be much blamed, though we have been no way in fault. Now tell us,” said the duke, addressing himself to the physicians, “were you present yesterday morning at his dinner before he mounted his horse?’ “Yes, in God’s name were we,” said they. “and what did he eat and drink?” “So very little, that it is scarcely worth mentioning; for he sat musing the whole time.” And who was the person that last served him with liquor?” asked the duke. “That we know not,” said the physicians,; “for as soon as the table was removed, we went away to make ourselves ready for riding, but you will learn it from his butlers or chamberlains.” Robert Tulles, a squire from Normandy, and head butler, was called. On his coming, he was questioned who had served the king with wine. “He replied, “My lords, sir Robert de Lignac.” The knight was then sent for, and asked where he had taken the wine to serve the king the morning before he mounted his horse. “My lords,” said he, “here is Robert Tulles who gave it me, and tasted it, as well as myself, in the king’s presence.” “That is true,” added Robert Tulles; “and in this respect there shall not be the smallest ground for suspicions; for there is now some of the very same in bottles to what he king drank, which we shall open and drink before you.”
The duke of Berry then said, — “We are debating here about nothing: the king is only poisoned or bewitched by bad advisors, but it is not time at present to talk of these matters. Let us bear the misfortune as well as we can for the moment.”
* Burel blanc.
† “Les Grandes Chroniques de France” say, that he killed four men, and the anonymous MSS. of St. Denys add a fifth, a knight of Guyenne, called the Bastard of Polignac. — ED.
CHAPTER XLV. — KING CHARLES VI. OF FRANCE, CONTINUING DERANGED IN MIND, IS REMOVED FROM MANS TO CREIL, ON THE OISE — THE REGENCY OF THE KINGDOM IS GIVEN TO THE DUKES OF BERRY AND BURGUNDY BY THE THREE ESTATES.
ON the conclusion of the duke of Berry’s speech, the lords retired to their lodgings for the night; and the king’s uncles ordered four knights of honour to sit up with the king, to attend him quietly, and administer to his wants. They were sir Reginald de Roye, sir Reginald de Trie, the lord de Garencieres, and sir William Martel. The lord de la Riviere, sir John le Mercier, Montagu, the bègue de Villaines, sir William des Borders, and sir Helion de Lignac, were ordered not to interfere in any manner of business until the king should 536 be perfectly recovered. On receiving this order, they departed, and others took charge of the government. On the morrow morning, the king’s uncles visited him; they found him very weak, and asked how he had slept. His chamberlain replied, — “Very little: he cannot rest.” “This is sad news,” said the duke of Burgundy. All three then approached him; and by this time the duke of Orleans arrived, and asked him how he was? He made no answer, but stared at them without recollecting who they were. These lords were most shocked, and, conversing together, said, — “We need not stay longer, for he is extremely ill, and we do him more harm than good by our presence. We have ordered his chamberlains and physicians to take every care of him, which of course they will do. Let us consider how the kingdom is to be governed, for a government must speedily be provided, or all things will go ill.” “Good brother,” said the duke of Burgundy to the duke of Berry “It will be necessary for us to go to Paris, and order the king to be brought hence gently; for we can have him better attended when nearer to us than here. We will assemble the whole council at Paris, and discuss how the kingdom shall be governed, and whether our fair nephew of Orleans be regent or we.” “It is well spoken,” replied the duke of Berry; “let us consider of the best place for the king to be removed to for the recovery of his health.” After some consultation, it was determined he should be carried, with every precaution to the castle of Creil, which has a good air, and is in a rich country on the river Oise.
When this was settled, the men at arms were disbanded, and orders given by the marshals for them to retire peaceably to their homes, without committing any ravages on the country; and that, if such excesses were indulged in, the leaders would be called upon to make reparation. The king’s uncles and the chancellor of France sent off varlets to the different cities and principal towns in Picardy, to order the inhabitants to be very attentive to the guard of them, for the reason that the king was indisposed. These orders were obeyed. The French nation was dismayed and concerned when it was publicly known that the king laboured under a frenzy. They spoke much against those who had advised him to this expedition to Brittany, and said he had been betrayed by those who had urged him on against the duke and sir Peter de Craon. People’s tongues could not be stopped, for it was so serious a misfortune, it was necessary vent should be somehow given to the vexation it caused.
The king was carried to Creil, and put under the care of the before-named knights and physicians. The men at arms were disbanded, and marched home. It was strictly forbidden the queen’s household and all others, under pain of being severely punished, to mention this misfortune to the queen, who was far gone with child. It was concealed from her for some time, during which the king was under the care of the knights at Creil, and his physicians, who were giving him various medicines, which, however, did him little good. At this time, there was a most learned physician in France, who had not his equal anywhere, a friend of the lord de Coucy, and born on his lands. His name was Master Harseley: he had fixed his residence in the city of Laon, which he preferred to any other. On first hearing of the king’s illness and the cause of it, knowing, as he thought, the king’s constitution, he said, — “This disorder of the king proceeds from the alarm in the forest, and by inheriting too much of his mother’s weak nerves.” These words were carried to the lord de Coucy, at that time in Paris with the duke of Orleans and the king’s uncles. The whole of the council, and the principal barons and prelates of the realm, were there assembled, to consult on the government of the kingdom during the king’s illness, and until he should be perfectly restored; and whether the duke of Orleans, or his uncles or all three, should have the regency. They were upwards of fifteen days before they could agree: at last, it was thought advisable, from the youth of the duke of Orleans, which made him unfit to bear so great a weight, that the two uncles of the king should govern the kingdom; but that the duke of Burgundy should be the principal; and that the duchess of Burgundy should remain with the queen, and be respected as second to her in rank.
CHAPTER XLVI. — THE LORD DE COUCY INTRODUCES THE GREAT PHYSICIAN, MASTER WILLIAM DE HARSELEY, TO CURE THE KING OF FRANCE. — VARIOUS CAUSES ASSIGNED FOR THIS DISORDER.
THE lord de Coucy was not unmindful of what he had heard of master William de Harseley. He spoke of him to the king’s uncles, and mentioned his learning and success, and that it would be proper he should try his skill to recover the king. The dukes of Berry and Burgundy listened to it, and sent for him. On his arrival at Paris, he first waited on the lord de Coucy, with whom he was very intimate, and he introduced him to the king’s uncles, saying, — “Here is master William de Harseley, of whom I spoke to you.” The two dukes received him kindly, and made him welcome. They then ordered him to visit the king at Creil, and remain with him until he should have restored him to health. Master William, in consequence of these orders from the dukes, set out from Paris in good array, as was becoming him, and arrived at Creil, where he established himself near the king’s person, and took the lead over the other physicians, undertaking to make a cure; for he saw it was to be done, since the disorder was caused by a weakness of nerves, from the sudden alarm of the appearance of the madman, and then by the noise from the blow on the page’s helmet; and he was very anxious to restore the king to health.
News of the king of France’s illness was carried far and near, and, however others may have been grieved at it, you may supposed that the duke of Brittany and sir Peter de Craon were not much affected: they soon dried their tears, for he was pursuing them with bitter hatred. Pope Boniface and his cardinals at Rome were rejoiced on hearing it. They assembled in full consistory, and said the worst of their enemies, meaning the king of France, was severely chastised, when God had thus deprived him of his senses; and that this punishment had been inflicted by Heaven, for having so strenuously supported the anti-pope of Avignon; that this chastisement should make him attend more to his own kingdom, and that their cause would now be better.
The pope and cardinals at Avignon, considering the great support the king had given them, had cause for alarm; but they showed none for the honour of the king and the realm. They said among themselves, that the king was young and wilful, and had, by his own fault, brought on him this disorder; that those about his person allowed him to act too much as he pleased; and that he had exerted himself in difference exercises, and by riding post night and day, and had laboured unreasonably, in mind and body, on matters that should have been done by his ministers and not by himself; and that, if he had been properly and soberly educated by the advice of his uncles this unfortunate illness would never have happened. They added, that, “when he was on his journey to Languedoc, he had promised, on the word of a king, and swore likewise on his faith, that he would raise a sufficient force to destroy the anti-pope and his cardinals at Rome, and put an end to the schism and troubles of the church; but he had done nothing, and thus forfeited his oath and promise, by which he has angered God, who, to correct him, punishes him with this rod of frenzy. It therefore behoves us, when he shall have recovered his health, which may soon happen, to send properly instructed legates to remonstrate with him on the breach of promise, in order that, through our neglect, the may not be forgetful of it.” — Such was the language at Avignon between the pope and cardinals, who agreed that this disorder had been incurred by his own negligence and fault; but they greatly blamed those of his council and household for not having better attended to him. Many others, in France, did the same.
In a church at Haspres, in Hainault, dependent on the abbey of Saint Vast at Arras, lies the canonized body of Saint Aquaire, in a rich shrine of silver. This saint is celebrated for the cures he has performed on those afflicted with madness, and on that account is much visited from all parts. To pay due respect to the saint, there was made of wax resembling the king, which was sent thither with a large wax taper, and offered, with much devotion, to the shrine of the saint, that he might pray to God to alleviate this cruel affliction 538 of the king. A similar offering was made to Saint Hermier in Rouais, who has the reputation of curing madness, and wherever there were saints that were supposed to have efficacy, by their prayers to God, in such disorders, thither were sent offerings from the king, with much ceremony and devotion.
When this event was known in England, the king and lords were greatly concerned thereat. The duke of Lancaster especially testified his sorrow, and said to the knights near his person, — “On my faith, it is a great pity, for he showed himself a man of courage, with strong inclinations to do good. When I took leave of him at Amiens, he said, — ‘Fair cousin of Lancaster, I earnestly entreat you will exert yourself to the utmost of your power that there may be a solid peace between the king of England your nephew and myself, and between our kingdoms: we may then march a powerful army against this Amurat, who has conquered the kingdom of Armenia from its lawful monarch, and who intends to destroy all Christendom, that we may exalt our faith, as we are bounden so to do.’ Now,” added the duke, “there is an end to this, for he will never again have that confidence he before enjoyed put in him.” “That is true enough,” said those who heard him, “and the kingdom of France seems likely to fall into much trouble.”
CHAPTER XLVII. — THE DUKES OF BERRY AND BURGUNDY RUIN THOSE WHO HAD BEEN THE CONFIDENTIAL SERVANTS OF THE KING. — THE DUKE OF BURGUNDY TREATS RUDELY THE CONSTABLE DE CLISSON.
SUCH were the conversations of lords in different countries on hearing of the king of France’s illness, who remained confined in the castle of Creil, under the care of the four knights, and master William de Harseley, who had the sole management of him: none were allowed to speak with the king, nor even entered the castle, but such as had his permission, or were acting under his orders. At times, the duke of Orleans and Bourbon came to visit the king, and see how he was going n, but the dukes of Perry and Burgundy never left Paris. They had not as yet made any changes in the government, but they shortly intended doing so in regard to many who were not in their good graces, from their behaviour when in power, which was, as they thought, contradictory and presumptuous.
The duke of Berry said, that Clisson, la Riviere, le Mercier, and le bègue de Villaines, had, during their attendance on the king in Languedoc, caused his treasurer and faithful servant Bethisac to be disgracefully punished with death, through envy and wickedness; and that, in spite of anything he could say or do, he could never get him out of heir hands. “Let them now beware of me, for the time shall come when I will repay them with the same coin, and struck from the same mint.” The duke of Burgundy and those attached to him loved no better the above-named persons, who had governed the king; for, whenever they wanted anything at court, they were repulsed sharply enough, and very little done for them, of which they murmured and talked loudly behind their backs.
The duchess of Burgundy, who was a very unforgiving and haughty lady, resided at Paris with the queen, and had the supreme government of her and her household, so that no one was permitted to speak with the queen but through her permission. This lady hated with her whole heart sir Oliver de Clisson, on account of the duke of Brittany, who was nearly related to her. She frequently remonstrated with the duke of Burgundy, saying, that those who had supported sir Oliver de Clisson against so potent a prince as his cousin the duke of Brittany, were very blame-worthy. The duke of Burgundy was cool and prudent and saw far into the state of affairs and their consequences: he wished not to encourage any troubles in France, but to keep every one in good humour as long as it should be possible, and on this account had never opposed any measures of his late brother, Charles V. nor of his nephew, the present king. He therefore replied thus gently to his wife: “Lady, it is good at all times to dissemble. The duke of Brittany, it is true, is a great prince, and an overmatch for the lord de Clisson. If I join the duke, and make myself openly one of his partisans, the kingdom would be dissatisfied, and not without reason; for the lord de Clisson would declare and prove, that the whole hatred our cousin the duke bears him is for having supported the interests of France, in which we have so large a share, and it is so believed throughout the realm. Hitherto, I have had no cause whatever to incline me to the duke against the lord de Clisson. It therefore behoves me to dissemble my real sentiments, if I wish to preserve the favour of the king and country to whom I am bounden by every tie, which is not my case with regard to the duke of Brittany. It has happened that my lord the king is indisposed, and in an alarming state, as you know: this is very much against the lord de Clisson and will be hurtful to all who advised him to undertake this expedition, and on which he was so obstinately bent, in spite of everything my brother and myself could urge against it. The rod is already prepared with which they shall be punished, as you shall shortly witness or hear of; but have the goodness, at this moment, to have a little patience. Lady, lady, there is no season but what makes some return, nor any fortune stable, nor afflicted heart but is at times rejoiced, nor angered minds but have their revenge. Clisson, la Riviere, Montagu, le Mercier, de Villaines, and others who have acted improperly, will shortly be made to suffer for it.” With such conversations did the duke and duchess of Burgundy amuse themselves; and not many days after this last, the dukes of Berry and Burgundy had a private conference. They said, “It was now time to punish those who had dishonoured their nephew, the king, 540 and who had led him to act according to their pleasure. We will begin, first, with the constable, or he is of the highest rank and greatest wealth: when he made his will a short time ago, on being wounded, he proved he had seventeen hundred thousand francs in money and moveables. How the devil could he have amassed such a sum? for the marriage of his daughter, with our cousin, John of Brittany, whom he ransomed from England, must have cost him, in the whole, two hundred thousand francs! But how shall we manage to begin on him, with any reasonable pretext? for he is strongly supported by our nephew, the duke of Orleans, and by many of the great barons of France. However, if we can but once lay hands on him, we will attack him by law, and the parliament at present is of our party.” “That is true,” replied the duke of Burgundy; “and the first time he comes to me, which he must do to-morrow on business, I will convince him by the reception I give him, that he is not in my favour, and do you, brother of Berry, do the same when he comes to you.” “That I will,” answered the duke of Berry; and with these words the conference ended.
The lord de Clisson, who thought not but that he was moderately well in favour with the lords of Berry and Burgundy, waited on the last, for business of his office. He had been much teased by many knights and squires, who were of the late expedition, and wanted money, for they had never received anything; the chancellor of France and the treasurer had sent them to the constable to be paid. He came therefore one afternoon to the hôtel d’Artois, to remonstrate with the duke of Burgundy on this business, and nothing else, for he had already been dismissed from any share in the government. When he arrived at the hôtel d’Artois he entered the court with his attendants, who were not numerous, and dismounted. The constable ascended the stairs attended by only one squire, the others waiting for him in the court. He found two of the duke’s knights in the hall, and demanded from them if the duke was disengaged, and if he could speak with him. “Sir, we know not,” replied they; “but will soon inform you if you will wait here.” They entered the duke’s apartment, and found him unoccupied, chatting with a herald, returned from a grand feast in Germany. The knights interrupted the conversation, by saying, “My lord, sir Oliver de Clisson is in the hall, and wishes to speak with you, if it be your pleasure.” “In God’s name,” replied the duke, “let him come forward: we have at present leisure to speak with him, and hear what he has to say.” One of the knights left the apartment, and called the constable, saying, — “Sir, come on: my lord sends for you.” The constable no sooner entered the room, than the duke changed colour, and repented having sent for him, although he was anxious to tell him his mind.
The constable took off his hood, and, bowing to the duke, said, — “I am come, my lord, to know how to act respecting the payment of the knights and squires who were of the late expedition, for my office is perpetually besieged by them; and, as you and my lord of Berry at present govern the kingdom, have the goodness to inform me.” The duke of Burgundy angrily replied, — “Clisson, Clisson, you need not trouble yourself about the state of France, for, without your office, it will be perfectly well governed. In an evil hour have you interfered in it. How the devil can you have amassed such a sum as seventeen hundred thousand francs, which you declared yourself to be possessed of by your will? Neither y lord the king, y brother of Berry, nor myself, with all our power, have ever been able to collect such a sum. Quit my presence, and leave my house, and let me never see you again; for, if it were not from regard to my own honour, I would have your other eye put out.” At these words, the duke of Burgundy went away, leaving the lord de Clisson astonished. He quitted the apartment, with his head sunk down, and quite melancholy, without being attended by any one. Having crossed the hall, he descended the court, mounted his horse, and departed with his people, taking a private way to his own hôtel, without saying a word.
CHAPTER XLVIII. — SIR OLIVER DE CLISSON, AFTER THE HARSH ANSWER OF THE DUKE OF BURGUNDY, RETIRES TO MONTLHERY. — BEING PUSHED THITHER, HE HAS TIME TO MAKE HIS RETREAT TO CHASTEAU-JOSSELIN.
WHEN the lord de Clisson had entered his hôtel, he formed various plans in his own mind as to his future conduct: he foresaw that very shortly public affairs would be badly managed, and had no one to open his mind to on the subject, for the duke of Orleans was at Creil: indeed, had he been at Paris, he had no power to save or defend him. Suspecting, after what had passed, that the duke of Burgundy would arrest him, and force his hôtel, he determined not to wait the event, but ordered his most confidential servants to pack up all he should want, and, in the evening, set off from Paris, attended by only two persons. He passed the gate of St. Anthony, and rode to Charenton, where, crossing the Seine by the bride, he continued his journey to his castle of Montlhery, seven* leagues from Paris, where he remained until he heard other news.
The same day the duke of Burgundy had rebuffed the constable, he met the duke of Berry at the Louvre, on the affairs of the nation. He told his brother of Berry how he had spoken to sir Oliver de Clisson, who answered, — “You have well done. We must, by some means or other, lay hold of him; for in truth, Clisson, Le Mercier, la Riviere, and Montagu have plundered the kingdom; but the time is now come when they must make ample restitution, and their heads ought to pay forfeit also.” I know not the particular reasons, but it is a fact, that the day the constable left Paris, Montagu did the same, and also by the gate of St,. Anthony. He took the road for Troyes in Champagne, but said he would not stop anywhere until he was arrived at Avignon, whither he had already sent the greater part of his wealth. He had left a sufficiency with his wife to maintain her state handsomely; for he foresaw, since the king was deprived of his senses, public affairs would go ill under the government of the dukes of Berry and Burgundy, who never spoke to him.
Sir John le Mercier would have been glad to have done the same, had he been able; but he had been put under an arrest, and nothing could come in or go out of his house without the knowledge of his guards. What he had before laid by in a place of security was of the greatest service to him at a proper opportunity, for all that was known to be his was claimed and seized by the two regents. He was afterwards committed a prisoner to the castle of the Louvre, as was in like manner le bègue de Villaines, count de Ribadeo in Spain. They sent to the hôtel of Montagu, but found no one, nor could they learn whither he was gone, and with this they were forced to be satisfied. Inquiries were made if sir Oliver de Clisson were in Paris, and orders were sent to his hôtel for him to surrender himself a prisoner in the Louvre: but no person was at his hôtel except the house-steward, who could not give any intelligence concerning him. Two days passed before it was known that he was in his castle of Montlhery. The two dukes, impatient to lay hold on him, ordered instantly Barrois des Barres, sir John de Châteaumorant, the lord de Coucy, and sir William de la Tremouille to collect three hundred lances; and said to them, — March with this force without delay to Montlhery, invest the town and castle, and do not leave it until you shall bring us Clisson, dead or alive.”
The knights obeyed, as was their duty, for the government of the kingdom was now in the hands of these two dukes, and they left Paris with their three hundred lances, not all at once, but in five separate bodies, that their departure might be the less noticed. God, however, assisted the constable; and he had such good friends among this armament, that he was punctually informed of its departure, and the hour it would arrive, so that he had full leisure to take proper measures not to suffer from it. He and his people left Montlhery, and by travelling through by-roads, over heaths, and avoiding all inclosed towns or cites, arrived safely in Brittany, and entered his castle called château-Josselin, which was well provided with all things, where he remained to wait other intelligence.
Barrois de Barres and the other knights put their orders into execution, took possession of 542 the town of Montlhery, and surrounded the castle. They remained thus one night, imagining the constable was within, but he was not, as you have heard. On the morrow, while they were preparing for the assault, the servants in the castle came out to know what they were about. The knights said they wanted sir Oliver de Clisson, and that was the object of their coming. The servants in guard of the castle replied, that the lord de Clisson had left it four days ago; and offered to open every part of it for them to search. The knights and squires entered the castle armed from head to foot, as if for instant combat, for fear of being surprised by treachery or an ambuscade. They, however, found that the servants had told them the truth; for they minutely searched every part of it, without discovering any traces of the lord de Clisson. After this, they marched away on their return to Paris, when they related to those who had sent them all they had done.
* Montlhery is only six leagues from Paris. — ED.
CHAPTER XLIX. — THE LORD DE LA RIVIERE, THE PRINCIPAL MINISTER OF THE KING OF FRANCE BEFORE HIS ILLNESS, IS MADE PRISONER BY ORDERS OF THE DUKES OF BERRY AND BURGUNDY. — THE DUCHESS OF BERRY INTERCEDES FOR HIM WITH HER LORD.
THE dukes of Berry and Burgundy, finding that the constable had escaped, were much vexed; while, on the contrary, the dukes of Orleans and Bourbon rejoiced at it. “Now,” said the duke of Burgundy, “he shows by his flight that he suspects us; but, though he has fled, he is not yet acquitted. We will force him hastily to return, or he shall lose every thing we can lay our hands on. Even this shall not free him from some heavy charges which only wait for trial, to prove him guilty and deserving punishment. If the great, the powerful, and the wicked be not chastised, justice will not be equally dealt, and the lower ranks and the poor will with truth be discontented. Justice ought to be dealt out without discrimination to all, that every one may take example.” Such was the discourse of the duke of Burgundy; but the lord de Clisson was safe in his castle of Josselin, in Brittany, well provided with every thing to defend it, and to hold out a long siege.
The day that Barrois des Barres returned to Paris, to tell his lords that sir Oliver de Clisson was not at Montlhery, the two dukes said, — “Barrois, set out to-morrow very early, and ride to Auneau. We have heard the lord de la Riviere is there. Demand to see him from us and from the council, and manage so that you give a good account of him when we shall require it from you.” Sir Barrois, having promised obedience, rode the next morning with his men at arms to Auneau, near to Chartres. It has a handsome castle, which the lord de la Riviere received in marriage with his wife the lady of Auneau, and he had greatly improved both the castle and lands. He was much beloved by his vassals, whom he treated with affectionate care. The commissioners sent by the dukes on their arrival at Auneau, executed their orders on the lord de la Riviere, whom they found with his lady and children. He was expecting such a message, for he had already learnt that sir John le Mercier and the count de Ribadeo were in prison, and that the constable had fled from Montlhery to a more distant and secure castle. Those who had brought him this intelligence said, — “Sir, save yourself; for the envious, who at this present time govern, are against you, and fortune has turned with them.” To this he had replied, — “Here and every where else I am in the power of God: if I fly or hide, I should accuse myself as guilty of crimes of which I feel myself incapable and innocent. God has given me all I possessed, and he may take it from me whenever he pleases: to his will I submit. I have faithfully and loyally served the late king, of happy memory, as well as the present king. My services have been well known to both, and they have royally rewarded them. I feel bold enough, from what by their command I have done for the good of the kingdom, to stand the judgment of the parliament of Paris; and, if they shall find in my whole conduct any thing worthy of blame, let me be punished.”
Such was the declaration of the lord de la Riviere to his wife and his friends, before the commissioners from the regents came to Auneau. On their arrival, his servants said, — “My lord, here are such and such persons, with a large force, who want to enter the castle: 543 what do you say? Shall we open the gates?” “Why not?” he replied: “they are very welcome.” On saying this, he went to meet them, and received every one most graciously, and in conversing together they all entered the hall of the castle of Auneau. After a short pause, sir Barrois des Barres, a gallant and courteous knight, with much vexation, arrested the lord de la Riviere, according to the ores that he had received, which he was bound to execute. The lord de la Riviere held him excused, and immediately obeyed his summons; for he neither could nor would otherwise act by disputing it; and he remained a prisoner in his castle of Auneau. You may imagine his lady was in great anguish when she saw fortune thus adverse to her lord, and she still more dreaded the conclusion.
The lord de la Riviere was not long a prisoner in is own castle, before he was sent for by those who ruled the temporality and spirituality of France (for the person who signed himself pope Clement held all his power in that country through the good-will of those dukes) to Paris, where he was confined in the prisons of the Louvre. Many in France were afflicted at this, but they dared only speak of it in private. They were indifferent as to sir John le Mercier, but the lord de la Riviere had been courteous, debonair, and patient in hearing poor people, and such as were not of rank to attend his public audiences. It was reported in Paris that they were to be beheaded; and it was whispered slanderously to ruin their popularity, that they had been traitors to the crown, and plundered the treasury of great wealth, with which they had kept up their state, and built houses and castles, while poor knights and squires, who had exposed their lives in arms for the service of the realm, and sold their inheritances for subsistence, could not obtain any payments, for a long time past, from sir Oliver de Clisson, the lord de la Riviere, sir Jon le Mercier, or from Montagu, who had fled. Their numerous enemies, who were in great strength, declared they deserved to die, which put them in great risk. They urged, as a crime against them, that they had advised the king to go to Mans, and thence to Brittany, and had, by poisoned liquors which they gave him to drink, brought on this frenzy; and it was currently reported, that the king’s physicians, who had the care of his health, were not, in any way, permitted to have their will, nor was their advice followed.
So much was said against these two, that the lord de la Riviere and sir John le Mercier were removed from the Louvre and delivered over to the provost of the Châtelet, and confined in the castle of St. Anthony, under the guard of the viscount d’Achy at that time the governor. On this removal, though the common report ran that they were to be put to death, in truth they were never condemned; nor could those by whom they had been examined, ever in their consciences find them guilty of death. They were, however, daily attacked by some, who said, “Take heed to your souls, for you bodies are already disposed of: you are both condemned to have your heads cut off.” In this distressing state they were kept for some time; but the bègue de Villaines, a great knight and valiant man at arms, from the country of Beauce, inculpated in the same accusations, had many friends, who pleaded effectually in his favour, and he was freed from prison with a full acquittal. On his leaving the prison, he was told by his relations, sir Barrois des Barres and others, to set out for Castille, where in future he must reside, on the handsome inheritance he gained by his marriage with the countess de Ribadeo. He followed the advice that had been given him, and speedily packed up all he wanted, and set out for Castille, leaving his two friends in prison, and in daily peril of losing their lives. All the property, moveable and immoveable, of sir John le Mercier, that was in France, and could be laid hold of, was confiscated and given to others. His fine house at Pont à Louvion*, in the diocese of Laon, that had cost him such immense sums, was seized and given to the lord de Coucy, with all its estates, manors and dependencies. I am ignorant if this was done at his request, but he possessed it, and his heirs afterwards.
The regents treated the lord de la Riviere very cruelly. They confiscated all his estates, as well what had descended to him as those he had purchased, and all his moveables wherever they could be found. The lady, his wife, had, however, reserved to her use all the domain of Auneau, and whatever else she had inherited from her family, by father or mother. She 544 had a young and genteel daughter, of ten years old, who had been betrothed to James de Chastillon, son and heir to sir Hugh de Chastillon, who had formerly been master of the cross-bows of France; he was already in possession of large estates, and in the expectation of more. He had made several excursions with his intended father-in-law, the lord de la Riviere; but, notwithstanding this, the regents would break off the intended marriage in spite of the young man. This connexion was put an end to, and he married elsewhere, according to the pleasure of the dukes of Berry and Burgundy, and the lord de la Tremouille, who took the management of the business.
The lord de la Riviere had likewise a son, a squire, who was his heir, married to the only daughter of the lord de Dampmartin, who was not likely to have more children, and the daughter was his heiress. The regents wanted likewise to break off this marriage, and unite her more nobly; but the count de Dampmartin, like an honourable man, stepped forward, and said, — “That as long as the son of the lord de la Riviere lived, his daughter should have no other husband; and, if violence were used to shorten his days, his daughter should remain a widow, and he would so strongly settle his property, that those who might wish to gain it by fraud or otherwise would find themselves disappointed.” When they saw the firmness of the count de Dampmartin, and that he would not give p his son-in-law, they left him quiet, and the marriage remained good; but the first I mentioned was set aside by an absolution from pope Clement, who was forced to give it whether he would or not; for he had no power over the realm of France but what the two dukes were pleased to allow him, so greatly was the church lowered and hurt by the disgraceful schism, and by the conduct of those who ought to have ruled it better.
Many in France, and I other countries, acquitted the lord de la Riviere from all blame, but their excusing him was of no avail; for although his innocence was as clear as the day, no one dared to speak in his behalf, but that courageous young lady the duchess of Berry. Too often had that good lady cast herself at her lord’s feet, saying with uplifted hands, — “Ah, my lord, you allow yourself to be swayed wrongly and sinfully, by the envious and disappointed, who poison your mind with tales against this valiant knight, and virtuous man, the lord de la Riviere. They accuse him unjustly, and no one dares to say a word in his defence. I wish you therefore to know, that, if he be put to death, I shall never again taste happiness, but remain all my days in sorrow and affliction. He is, whoever may say the contrary, a most loyal and prudent knight. Ah, my lord, you little remember the handsome services he has done you, nor the pains and difficulty he had to encounter when he accomplished our marriage. I do not say this as pretending to have been worth the trouble, for I am but a poor lady in comparison to you. But you, who were so anxious to have me, had to deal with a hard and cunning lord, the late count de Foix, in whose wardship I then was; and, if it had not been for the persuasive manners of the lord de la Riviere, I should have never been your duchess, but settled in England; for the duke of Lancaster solicited me for the earl of Derby, and the count de Foix inclined more to him than to you. Most dear sir, you ought not to be forgetful of these tings, for you know what I say is true. I therefore most humbly entreat that you would have compassion on the gallant knight who so courteously conducted your business, in regard to me, that he suffer neither in life nor limb.”
The duke of Berry, thus attacked by his young and handsome wife, whom he doted upon, and feeling that all s he had said was true, was much softened in his hatred to the lord de la Riviere; and to appease his lady, who he saw was in earnest, replied, — “Lady, as God may save my soul, I would rather have paid twenty thousand francs, than that la Riviere should have misconducted himself towards the crown of France. Before this indisposition of the king, I loved him well, and considered him as a prudent and valiant knight. Since, however, you thus anxiously interest yourself for him, I will abate my anger; and from your entreaties and solicitations he shall fare the better. I will exert my power to the utmost, and do more for your prayers than if all France united had petitioned me in his behalf.” “My lord,” answered the lady, “please God, I shall see the effects of it. You will do a good and charitable act; for I believe there is not one, beside myself, that has spoken in sis favour.” “You say truly,” replied the duke; “but when you so warmly take up the 545 matter, it is fully sufficient.” Thus was the duchess contented with the answers of the duke; and when he and the duke of Burgundy, with their councils, met on the business, there was much altercation. There is not a doubt, but, if this virtuous lady had not interfered, he would have been put to death. From affection to her, it was otherwise; and sir John le Mercier was fortunate in being the companion of the lord de la Riviere, and implicated in the same charges, for they could not in conscience have executed one without the other.
Notwithstanding this delay, they did not feel perfectly secure in prison, for they knew they had many enemies, who were now in power and angry (though they were forced to abide by it) that they had not sooner been punished. Sir John le Mercier, during his confinement in the Bastille, was in such continual grief, and tears that he nearly lost his sight. It was melancholy indeed to hear the bitterness of his lamentations.
* “Pont à Louvion.” — It is in the MSS. Pont-Aubumen, and Pont à Lonnion. Q. if not Pont à Nouvion. There are three villages of that name in the election of Laon.
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