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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. 545-565.
CHAPTER L. — AFTER MANY ADJOURNMENTS AND DELAYS, THE CONSTABLE DE CLISSON IS, BY JUDGMENT OF THE COURT OF PARLIAMENT OF PARIS, BANISHED THE REALM OF FRANCE, CONDEMNED TO PAY A FINE OF ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND FRANCS, AND DECLARED INCAPABLE OF HOLDING THE OFFICE OF CONSTABLE OF FRANCE.
DURING the confinement of the two knights in prison, where they remained upwards of a year, uncertain what the conclusion would be, the lord de Clisson was attacked every way, to degrade his honour and deprive him of his office. They were more desirous to lay hold of him than any others of the late ministry, but he took good care to prevent it. He was wise in so doing; for if he had been arrested, every thing was prepared for his execution the moment he should be condemned, without the smallest hope of mercy, to please his adversary, the duke of Brittany, who had never done any good to France.
When the regents found he had escaped, they resolved to proceed in a different manner. It was ordered, that he should be summoned by the court of parliament of Paris to appear before it, and answer such charges as should be made against him, under pain of being dishonoured and banished from France. Commissioners were sent after him into Brittany, by the chamber of parliament, to summon and arrest him. They acquitted themselves well, so far as going into Brittany and demanding at all the towns and castles belonging to sir Oliver de Clisson where he was to be found, saying, — “We are sent by the king and council to speak with my lord the constable: tell us how we can see him, that we may perform our message.” the inhabitants of the towns or castles dependent on the lord de Clisson answered, as they had been tutored to do, — “Gentlemen, you are very welcome: if we wanted to speak with our lord the constable, we would go to such a place, where we should find him without fail.” Thus were the commissioners sent from town to town asking after sir Oliver de Clisson, but without ever finding him, or having any other answers. At length being tired of the pursuit, they returned to Paris, and related their ill success, and the tricks the constable’s vassal s had played them. Those who had accused him, and wished his condemnation, would not that he had acted otherwise, for now, they said, they would have instant judgment, and he should be tried according to his deserts.
They publicly summoned, by order of parliament, sir Oliver de Clisson in all legal form, allowing the usual interval between each summons, to prevent those attached to him from saying that hatred or malice had outstripped justice. After every adjournment was completed, without any intelligence received from him and after he had been summoned first at the door of the chamber of parliament, then publicly at the gates and on the steps of the palace, with every usual solemnity, without any answer being returned, a most cruel sentence was passed by the court. He was banished the kingdom of France for a false and wicked traitor to the crown, condemned to pay a fine of one hundred thousand marcs of silver, for the extortions which he had fraudulently and wickedly committed in former times, as well in the office of constable as in the exchequer and elsewhere, and to be deprived for ever of the office of constable of France. The duke of Orleans was invited by the court to be present when this sentence was passed, but he would not, and excused himself. The dukes of Berry and Burgundy were there, with a great many of the barons of France.
546Now observe the works of Fortune, how firm and steady they are, when such a valiant and good knight who had laboured so successfully for the honour of France was then maliciously degraded in honour and hurt in his fortune. He was lucky in not obeying any of the summonses, for, had he come, they would have disgracefully put him to death; nor could the duke of Orleans have saved him, for, if he had interceded for him, no attention would have been paid to it. You may suppose that the duke of Brittany and sir Peter de Craon, who were strongly connected with each other, were much rejoiced at this; but they were vexed the constable had not borne company with the lord de la Riviere and sir John le Mercier. This sentence made a great noise in France and elsewhere. Some pitied him, and said in secret that he had been unjustly treated: others opposed it, saying it was fortunate he had not been laid hold of and hanged, for he was deserving of it. “Our regents,” they added, “who are well acquainted with his manner of life, have not been to blame in suffering him to be thus treated. How the devil could he have laid by such a sum as a million and a half of florins? It could not have been by conquests in war, but from pillage and robbery, and from the pay of poor knights and squires, as is well known at the chancery and treasury, where it is all written down. In the expeditions to Flanders, he raised and received large sums of money, as well as in that which the king made into Germany. All the taxes for the war, and the payment of the men at arms, passed through his hands. He paid himself and others as he pleased, keeping the better part, without any one daring to say a word against it.” In such terms was sir Oliver de Clisson accused behind his back; and the proverb says truly, that “those whom necessity forces to sell have never a fair offer.”
The duke of Brittany caused it to be rumoured throughout his country, that whenever the dukes of Berry and Burgundy should please, he could easily reduce the lord de Clisson to the lowest state; but at the moment he left him undisturbed, to see what turn affairs would take, for he expected, from the measures then pursuing, the lord de Clisson must be deprived of the constableship. The duke of Brittany and sir Peter de Craon were thus suddenly relieved from all anxiety by the favour of dame Fortune, who, ever in motion, exalts those who least expect it, and tumbles others into the dirt from the top of her wheel.
Sir Oliver de Clisson, the lord de la Riviere, and sir John le Mercier, were principally accused of being the authors of the king’s illness; and it was commonly reported by those who hated them, and wished their death, that they had poisoned the king. Now consider how little there was in this charge, or how little probability of their attempting such an act, who were sure of being persecuted if any accident happened to the king, and of course would have been the most eager to have preserved him in health. But nothing was believed which they urged in their defence, as you already know. The lord de la Riviere and sir John le Mercier were for a long time imprisoned in the Bastille, and in great danger of being publicly beheaded. It would undoubtedly have been done, if the king had not very opportunely recovered his health, and had it not been for the strong and repeated intercessions the duchess of Berry made for the lord de la Riviere. The lord de Clisson resided in Brittany; and a severe warfare was kept up between him and the duke, which cost many lives, as will be related hereafter.
CHAPTER LI. — KING CHARLES RECOVERS HIS SENSES THROUGH THE MERCY OF GOD, AND THE DILIGENT ATTENTION OF HIS PHYSICIAN, MASTER WILLIAM DE HARSELEY.
THE disorder, which befel the king on his journey to Brittany, greatly affected all his subjects, and they naturally felt for their king, who, before this illness, was very popular with all ranks. Being the chief, every part of the government suffered; for, in like manner, when the head of a man is sick, his other members are not painless. No one ventured to talk openly of his indisposition, which was concealed as much as it could be, Indeed, it was perfectly unknown to the queen until she was recovered from her lying-in; and I believe this time she was brought to bed of a daughter. Master William de Harseley, who had the king under his care, resided quietly with him at Creil, and was very attentive to him, which gained him honour and profit, for by little and little he recovered for him his health. 547 He first got rid of the fever and great heat he complained of, and then restored to him his appetite, and his recollection of things about him. Until he was strong enough to bear removal for change of air, he allowed him to ride, hunt, and amuse himself with hawking.
On the news of the king’s recovery being spread abroad, the whole kingdom of France was rejoiced, and most heartily and sincerely were thanksgivings offered up to God for having restored the king to his senses and memory. During his residence at Creil, he demanded to see the queen and his son; she came thither, and brought the dauphin. The king received them very kindly; and thus by degrees, through the mercy of God, was he restored to health. Master William de Harseley, seeing him in so fair a way, was in high spirits, and not without reason, for he had performed an astonishing cure. He now gave him up to the care of his brother, the duke of Orleans and his uncles, the dukes of Berry, Burgundy, and Bourbon, saying to them, — “Thanks to God, the king is now well: I deliver him up to you; but henceforward, you must carefully avoid angering or vexing him for as yet hi nerves have not quite recovered their strength, though they will daily get better. Amusements and relaxations from the fatigues of business will be of service to him, and, above all, he must not weary himself too much with his ministers or council; for his head will continue some time weak and delicate, as he has been much pulled down and shattered by this indisposition.”
Having consulted together, they resolved to retain master William de Harseley at such an ample salary as should satisfy him; for it is the object of all medical men to gain large salaries, and as much profit as possible, from the lords and ladies who call for their aid. It was therefore proposed to him to remain with the king; but he excused himself, saying, “that he was old and weakly; that the manner of living at court would not agree with his years, and that he must immediately return to his nursling at home.” When they saw he was determined in his refusal, they pressed him no further. They gave him permission to depart, and, on his taking leave, presented him with one thousand crowns of gold, and an 548 order for four horses on the post-masters whenever he should please to come to court. I believe he never returned; for he continued in the city of Laon, where he died very rich, possessed of thirty thousand francs. He was the most niggardly man of his time: his whole pleasure was amassing money, and never spending a farthing at home, but eating and drinking abroad wherever he could. With such rods are physicians corrected.
CHAPTER LII. — THE TRUCE IS PROLONGED BETWEEN FRANCE AND ENGLAND. — THE VISCOUNT DE CHASTELBON DOES HOMAGE FOR THE COUNTY OF FOIX TO THE KING OF FRANCE.
TO continue this noble and pleasant history, undertaken at the request and pleasure of that liberal and potent prince, my very dear lord and patron, Guy de Chastillon, count de Blois, lord of Avesnes, Chimay, Beaumont, Schoenhoven and Turgow; I, John Froissart, priest and chaplain to my very dear lord before named, and at the time treasure and canon of Chimay and Lille in Flanders, set myself to work at my forge, to produce new and notable matter relative to the wars between France and England and their allies, as clearly appears from the various treaties which are of this date, and which excellent materials, through the grace of God, I shall work upon as long as I live; for the more I labour at it the more it delights me: just as a gallant knight or squire at arms, who loves his profession, the longer he continues it so much the more delectable it appears.
You have had it before related in these chronicles, that a truce had been agreed on for three years at Leulinghen, between France and England; that ambassadors from France, namely the count de Saint Pol and the lord de Châteaumorant, had brought the papers signed and sealed from England; and that, since then, the lord de Chateau-morant and sir Taupin de Cantemerle had accompanied the dukes of Lancaster and York from the conferences at Amiens to London, to learn the intentions of the king and parliament of England, in regard to the advances which had been made at Amiens towards a solid peace between the two nations, subject, however, to the consent of England, which had been reserved in the treaty by the dukes of Lancaster and York. The French knights had returned to France; for they were told nothing could be done in the matter until the meeting of the parliament, which was appointed to be holden at Westminster at Michaelmas: that then the affair would be discussed, and they should have an answer. When it was known in England how grievously the king of France was afflicted, the business was much retarded. Nevertheless, the king and the duke of Lancaster were desirous of peace between England and France, and, had it depended on them, it would have been concluded; but it was not so, for the commons of England preferred war to peace, saying, “that war with France was more beneficial to them than otherwise.” This was also the opinion of Thomas duke of Gloucester, constable of England, who was very popular throughout the country. He inclined for war, as did all the young men who were anxious to signalise themselves in arms; but his brother, the duke of Lancaster, as the oldest and most powerful, took the lead, and said, “the war has lasted long enough between France and England, and that a good peace, if properly attended to, would be very welcome to all parties who had suffered greatly from the long state of warfare.” The duke added, “that holy Christendom was in danger from Bajazet, who was in great force on the frontiers of Hungary, sorely oppressing that country; and that was the proper theatre for all young bachelors who wished to try their skill at arms.”
Let us weigh well these words of the duke of Lancaster, which were offered with the best intentions; for he had many times invaded France and overrun that country with small gain. He had undergone great bodily fatigue; and though he burnt and destroyed the flat country, it was almost as soon recovered again from the damages it had suffered. He said that this war led to no good end, but, if continued, must be pushed forward with vigour, and the slight reverse might be attended with the worst consequences. He likewise perceived the king was more desirous of peace than war. I, the author of this history, know not how to determine who was in the right, or who in the wrong; but it was said the reason 549 of the duke of Lancaster’s conduct was, that he had married his two daughters in Castille and Portugal, and therefore he was desirous of peace. His son-in-law, the king of Castille, was young, and to prevent any troubles from his grandees, and in order that he might reign quietly, it was necessary there should be such a peace wit France as the English could not infringe. Should they do so, the French would instantly fall on Castille, for they had free entrances thither, through the kingdom of Arragon, of which the lady Jolande de Bar, a French woman, was queen, and who governed that kingdom as well as Catalonia, or through the countries of Béarn and the Basques; for the viscount de Chateaubon, the heir to the late count de Foix, had sworn and sealed to grant this permission, when required by the king of France. The French had therefore several entrances to Castille, without danger of opposition from the king of Navarre, who would not willingly anger his cousin-german the king of France. His brother sir Peter de Navarre, was beside at the court of France, and would instantly soften any disputes that should arise between the king and France and his brother of Navarre; for he was a good Frenchman and never acted but for the mutual interest of the two kings. The duke of Lancaster was fully aware of all the consequences of war, and frequently remonstrated on the subject with his son, Henry early of Derby, who though young, had an understanding and prudence that seemed likely to produce perfection. This earl of Derby had four fine sons, Henry, John, Humphrey and Thomas, and two daughters, by Mary de Bohun, daughter to the earl of Hereford and Northampton, constable of England, and possessed in her right very large estates.
The conclusion of the matter respecting peace, which was long discussed in the parliament held at Westminster, of prelates, noblemen, and citizens from the cities and principal towns, was, that a truce should take place between England, France, and their respective allies, by sea and land, to last from Michaelmas to Saint John Baptist’s day, and one year longer. Those who had been sent by the king of France carried back the articles of the truce properly signed and sealed, and the agreement was well observed by all parties.
The health of the king of France had been so exceedingly weakened by his late illness, that his council knew not to whom to apply for advice; for the physician who had before attended, master William de Harseley, was dead. He had however, given the king, before he left him, several good recipes which he had used, and had returned to Paris in the winter with very good health, to the great joy of his family and the whole commonalty of France, with whom he was very popular. The queen accompanied him from Creil to Paris, where they resided at the hotel de Saint Pol. At times he went to the Louvre, but for the most part staid at the hotel de Saint Pol; and, during the long winter nights, there were carollings, dancings and other amusements, in the presence of the king, queen, duchess of Berry, duchess of Orleans and other ladies, who thus passed the winter nights.
At this season, the viscount de Châteaubon came to Paris, to do homage to the king for the county of Foix, which he inherited as legal heir to Gaston de Foix, and which was a fief dependent on France. Béarn is an independent state, and the lords of it owe service to none other lord but God, notwithstanding the claims the late prince of Wales, of happy memory, urged against Gaston de Foix, the late lord of Béarn. The prince pretended it was dependent on Aquitaine, but the count de Foix denied the fact. To say the truth, all these claims of the prince were instigated through the count John d’Armagnac, as has been already told, so that I shall now pass the matter over. When the viscount de Châteaubon whom henceforward I shall call the count de Foix, came to Paris, he brought a cousin with him, a bastard son of the late count, called Evan de Foix, a handsome and accomplished knight, whom his late father would have willingly made his heir, with his brother Gracien, that was now with the king of Navarre, but the barons of Béarn would not consent to it. The matter, therefore, remained unsettled, for the count, as you have seen, died suddenly. On sir Evan being introduced to the king, he took a great liking to him, for he was wonderfully handsome and well made; he was besides of the same age with the king; and the affairs of the viscount de Châteaubon were benefited by this friendship, as they were the more speedily concluded. The viscount returned home; but sir Evan remained at court, and was named by the king one of the knights of his bed-chamber, with twelve coursers at the charge of the crown.
CHAPTER LIII. — THE KING OF FRANCE IN GREAT DANGER OF HIS LIFE AT A MASKED DANCE OF MEN DRESSED LIKE SAVAGES. — POPE BONIFACE AND THE CARDINALS AT ROME SEND A LEARNED FRIAR TO THE KING.
NOT long after this, a marriage took placed between a young squire of Vermandois and a damsel of the queen, both of the royal household. The court was much pleased at it, and the king resolved to keep their wedding feast at his expense. It was held at the hôtel of Saint Pol, and great crowds of lords attended; among whom were the dukes of Orleans, Berry, Burgundy, and their duchesses. The wedding-day* was passed in dancing and joy. The king entertained at supper the queen in great state; and every one exerted himself to add to the gaiety, seeing how much delighted the king appeared.
There was in the king’s household, a Norma squire, called Hugonin de Gensay, a near relation of the bridegroom, who thought of the following piece of pleasantry to amuse the king and ladies. This marriage was on a Tuesday before Candlemas-day, and he had in the evening provided six coats of linen covered with fine flax, the colour of hair. He dressed the king in one of them, the count de Joigny, a young and gallant knight, in another, which became him well; sir Charles de Poitiers, son of the count de Valentinois, had the third; sir Evan de Foix the fourth; the son of the lord de Nantouillet, a young knight, had the fifth, and Hugonin dressed himself in the sixth.†. When they were all thus dressed, by having the coats sewed round them, they appeared like savages, for hey were covered with hair from head to foot. This masquerade pleased the king greatly, and he expressed his pleasure to his squire. It was so secretly contrived that no one knew anything of the matter but the servants who had attended on them. Sir Evan de Foix, who seemed to have more foresight of what was to happen, said to the king, — “Sire, command strictly that no one come near us with torches; for, if a spark fall on the coats we are dressed in, the lax will instantly take fire, and we must inevitably be burnt: take care, therefore, of what I say.” “Evan,” replied the king, “you speak well and wisely, and your advice shall be attended to.” He then forbade his servants to follow, and, sending for one of the serjeants at arms that waited at the doors of the apartments, said to him, — “Go to the room where the ladies are, and command, in the king’s name, that all the torches be placed on one side of it, and that no person come near six savage men who are about to enter.”
The serjeant did as he had been ordered by the king, and the torch-bearers withdrew on one side and no one approached the dancers, so long as the savages staid in the room. The apartment was now clear of all but ladies, damsels, and knights and squires, who were dancing with them. Soon after, the duke of Orleans entered, attended by four knights, and six torches, ignorant of the orders that had been given, and of the entrance of the savages. He first looked at the dancing, and then took part himself, just as the king of France made his appearance, with five others dressed like savages, and covered with flax, to represent hair from head to foot. Not one person in the company knew them; and they were all fastened together, while the king led them dancing. On their entrance, every one was so occupied in examining them, that the orders about the torches were forgotten. The king, who was the leader, fortunately for him, quitted them to show himself to the ladies, as was natural to his youth, and passing by the queen, placed himself near the duchess of Berry, who though his aunt, was the youngest of the company. The duchess amused herself in talking with him, and endeavouring to find out who he was; but the king, rising up from his seat, would not discover himself. The duchess said, “You shall not escape thus, for I will know your name.”
At this moment, a most unfortunate accident befel the others, through the youthful gaiety of the duke of Orleans, who, if he had foreseen the mischief he was about to cause, it is to be presumed would not, for any consideration, have so acted. He was very inquisitive in examining them, to find out who they were; and, as the five were dancing, he took one of 551 the torches from his servants, and, holding it too near their dresses, set them on fire. Flax, you know, is instantly in a blaze, and the pitch, with which the cloth had been covered to fasten the flax, added to the impossibility of extinguishing it. They were likewise chained together, and their cries were dreadful; for, the fire was so strong, scarcely any dared approach. Some knights indeed did their utmost to disengage them, but their pitch burnt their hands very severely; and they suffered a long time afterwards from it.
One of the five, Nantouillet, recollected that the buttery was near, broke the chain, and flying thither, flung himself into a large tub of water which was there for washing dishes and plats. This save him, or he would have been burnt to death like the others: but he was withal some time very ill. When the queen heard the cause of the cries, she was alarmed lest the king should be hurt, for he had told her he would be one of the six, and in her fright fainted and fell down: her ladies and knights hastened to her assistance; and the confusion was so great, no one knew what to do. The duchess of Berry saved the king by throwing the train of her robe over him, and detaining him, for he wanted to quit her. “Where are you going.” said she: “do you not see your companions are in a blaze? who are you? for it is not now a time to keep it a secret.” He then named himself, saying, “I am the king.” “Ah, my lord,” replied the duchess, “put on quickly another dress, and show yourself to the queen, for she is very much distressed about you.”
The king on this left the room, and, having thrown aside his mummery, dressed himself as fast as he could, and returned to the queen, who had been much comforted by the duchess of Berry. When the king had quitted her, she went to the queen and said, “Madam, do not be alarmed for the king; you will shortly see him, for I have been talking to him.” As she said this, the king appeared, and the queen trembled for joy: she was carried by her knights to her chamber, where the king attended and comforted her. The bastard of Foix, when on fire, cried aloud, “Save the king, save the king!” who indeed was saved in the manner I have related. It was the providence of God that inspired him to leave his companions and converse with the ladies, for, had he remained with them, he must inevitably have been burnt to death.
This terrible accident happened about twelve o’clock at night, in the ball-room, at the hôtel de Saint Pol, and it was a most melancholy spectacle. Of the four that were on fire, 552 two died on the spot: the other two, the bastard of Foix and the count de Joigny, were carried to their hôtels, and died two days afterward in great agonies. Thus unfortunately did the wedding-feast end, although the married couple could no way be blamed. The duke of Orleans was alone in fault, who certainly intended not any harm when he held the torch so near them. His giddiness caused it; and, when he witnessed how unlucky he had been, he said aloud, — “Listen to me all that can hear me. Let no one be blamed for his unfortunate accident but myself; what has been done was through my fault: but woe is me that it has happened! and, had I foreseen the consequences, nothing on earth should have induced me to do it.” The duke then followed the king, and made his excuses, which were accepted. This melancholy event happened on the Tuesday before Candlemas-eve, in the year of grace 1392: it made a great noise in France and in other countries.
The dukes of Berry and Burgundy were not present when the maskers were set on fire, but were at their own hôtels, having taken leave of the king, queen, and ladies. When, on the morrow, it became public in Paris, the people wondered greatly, and said that God had a second time shown his kind providence to the king, and that he ought not to put aside these childish things, and occupy himself more seriously; for that he had too long played the boy, which was unbecoming a king of France. The commonalty murmured among themselves, and said, — “What a narrow escape the king has had! if he had been burnt like the others, which might easily have happened, what would have become of his uncles? They may be assured not one of them would have escaped death, nor any knight found in Paris.” The dukes of Berry and Burgundy, hearing of this language, were astonished and alarmed, and not without cause. They mounted their horses, and rode to the hôtel de Saint Pol to the king, and congratulated him on his escape. They found him still frightened, for he had not yet recovered from the sense of the peril he had been in the preceding night. He told them his fair aunt of Berry had saved him from being burnt, but that he was exceedingly grieved for the melancholy end of the count de Joigny, sir Evan de Foix, and sir Charles de Poitiers. His uncles consoled him, saying, — “My lord, what is done cannot be recovered: you must forget their deaths, and render thanks to god for the miraculous escape you yourself have had; for this event might have been nearly the death of the kingdom as well as your own. You may easily imagine what would have been the consequences, when the commons of Paris hold such language as has been reported to us; and God knows, that if you had perished, they would have murdered us all. Make yourself ready to go in royal state, suitable to your rank, and ride in pilgrimage to the church of Notre-Dame and show yourself to your people; we will accompany you, for the citizens of Paris are very desirous to see you.” The king replied, he would do as they advised, and then entered into conversation with his brother the duke of Orleans, whom he much loved. His uncles received the duke kindly, blaming him a little for the youthful trick he had played. It seemed he was not displeased at their lecture, and declared he never intended or suspected he was doing wrong.
On the point of nine o’clock, the king and his attendants mounted their horses, and rode through Paris from the hôtel de Saint Pol, to the church of Nôtre Dame, to appease the people, who were in great commotion, where he heard mass, and made his offerings. He then returned to the hôtel de Saint Pol with his lords, who dined there. This accident was by degrees forgotten, and obsequies, prayers, and alms were made for the dead. Ah, count Gaston de Foix! hadst thou been alive and heard of the cruel death of this thy favorite son, thou wouldst have been sadly grieved, for thou didst love him much, and I know not how thou wouldst have been consoled. All the lords and ladies in France, when they heard of this accident, were shocked and grieved.
But you must know, that pope Boniface and his cardinals at Rome were well pleased when they learnt the news, because the king was contrary to their interests. They said among themselves, in a consistory, that it was a second punishment sent by God, to make him take warning for having supported the anti-pope of Avignon, Robert de Geneve, who was false, proud, and presumptuous, and had never done one good act in his whole life, but had deceived the world. The pope and cardinals resolved to send in a secret manner and without pomp, a learned friar to the king of France, well instructed how to speak and 553 preach, to attempt to bring him and the French nation back to the way of salvation. They maintained, that he was now gone astray, and that being the greatest king in Christendom, the church ought to be enlightened and supported by him more than by any other. They selected a devout and sensible man, whom they ordered to go into France; but, before his departure, they fully instructed him what to say and how to act. This was not so quickly done, nor did the envoy soon arrive, for the distance was great, and he had many different states to pass through. It was beside necessary that the friar, who was a Franciscan monk, should know if the king of France were willing to see him before he set out.
* The 29th of January 1392 old style, 1393 new style. — ED.
† In the history of France by Villaret, these masquers were, — the king, — Hugues de Guissal, — le comte de Joigni, — Aymard de Poitiers, son of the count de Valentinois, — le bâtard de Foix, — Jean de Nantouillet.
CHAPTER LIV. — THE DUCHESS OF BERRY SUPPORTS THE LORD DE LA RIVIERE IN OPPOSITION TO THE DUCHESS OF BURGUNDY.
WE will return to the affairs of France, and say how they were going on. Notwithstanding the king’s recovery, the dukes of Berry and Burgundy did not desist from their attempts to ruin that valiant and prudent knight, the lord de la Riviere. He and sir John le Mercier were still confined in the Bastille of Saint Anthony, under the care of the viscount d’Achy: and it was current through Paris, that they would be put to death, insomuch that it was daily expected they would be delivered over to the provost of the Châtelet, and when once this was done, nothing could prevent them from being publicly beheaded as traitors to the crown of France. From the information I then had, I am convinced their execution would have taken place, had not the grace of God been shown them, and the duchess of Berry exerted herself so much. This good lady was incessant in her entreaties for la Riviere, — who had carried her to France and concluded her marriage, — but not without great difficulty, with the duke of Berry. Sir John le Mercier was therefore fortunate in his situation to share the benefits of her exertions. She frequently, with tears, addressed her lord, saying, “that he was instigated by the malicious and envious insinuations of the enemies of la Riviere to keep him so long in prison, and confiscate his inheritance. Ah, my lord, you make him a very ungrateful return for all the pains he took in bringing about our marriage, when you thus consent to his destruction. At least, if you take his property, spare his life; for, if he be executed for the charges that are so unjustly made against him, I shall never again enjoy happiness. My lord, I do not say this from any feigned motive, but I really feel that it will weigh most heavily on my mind. I therefore pray God you will take proper measures for his deliverance.” The duke perceiving she was in earnest, and that her arguments were good, abated greatly his hatred to the lord de la Riviere, who would sooner have obtained his liberty; but they were desirous of putting to death sir John le Mercier, and they could not punish one without the other. This sir John le Mercier had wept so long in prison, that he had almost lost his eye-sight.
Had the duchess of Burgundy been listened to, they would have suffered a disgraceful and public death, without hopes of mercy; for she hated them because they had, with sir Oliver de Clisson, advised the king of France to make the expedition into Brittany, to destroy her cousin the duke. She said, that Clisson, le Mercier, and la Riviere were the cause of the king’s illness, which would never had happened, had they not persuaded him to undertake the war against Brittany. You must know, that although the king was now in a tolerably good state of mental and bodily health, the dukes of Berry and Burgundy did not resign the government of the kingdom; and, as they had all the weight, they determined to have the profit also. To this end, they placed only their creatures about the king’s person, who was but a king in name, for the two dukes took on themselves to manage whatever concerned the realm. The duchess of Orleans was not pleased that the duchess of Burgundy should have rank second to the queen. She loved honours, and said to those in her confidence, — “The duchess of Burgundy has no right to take precedence of me: I am nearer the crown of France than she is, for my lord is brother to the king. It may so happen that he shall be king; and, as I then must be queen, I know no more why she is thus eager of honours that are not belonging to her, and to place me behind her.”
We will for a while leave these ladies, and speak of some changes in France, and of sir Oliver de Clisson, and of the manner in which he was treated.
CHAPTER LV. — THE LORD DE COUCY REFUSES TO ACCEPT THE SWORD OF CONSTABLE IN THE ROOM OF CLISSON. — THE DUKES OF BERRY AND BURGUNDY INVEST THE LORD PHILIP D’ARTOIS, COUNT D’EU, WITH IT, IN CONSIDERATION OF HIS MARRIAGE WITH THE LADY MARY OF BERRY, WIDOW OF THE LORD LOUIS DE BLOIS.
YOU have before heard that the constable was summoned publicly by the parliament of Paris, after an adjournment of fifteen days between each summons, and how commissioners were sent in pursuit of him to Brittany, but in vain, for he concealed himself from them. Had they been able to have spoken to him they would have served him personally with the orders of the court, and laid hands on him, according to the instructions they had received. When, on their return, they had given an account of their mission to the parliament, it was determined by the court and lords of parliament, that sir Oliver de Clisson, constable of France, had forfeited the protection of the court, and should be banished France, and deprived of all offices and possessions he held within that kingdom; for that he had contumaciously refused obedience to the summons of the great chamber, though sealed with their seal, and also had refused to send back his sword of office. The dukes of Berry and Burgundy, with their councils, who all hated the constable, and wished his ruin, said they would provide a remedy, for the office of constable was so noble, and of such weight, it could not long remain vacant, for fear of accidents that might happen.
The lord de Coucy was thought the most proper person to fill it; but he excused himself, and refused positively to accept of it, though he should be forced to leave France. When they saw he was determined, they looked elsewhere. At this time a treaty of marriage was in agitation between the lord Philip d’Artois and the young countess du Dunois, the widow of the lord Louis de Blois, and the king of France was well inclined that this marriage with his cousin should take place, but the duke of Berry refused his consent; for the county of Eu is but of small value, in comparison of what she was entitled to from her first union, and he looked to marry her more nobly. To say the truth, the countess was for beauty and goodness, and everything belonging to a noble lady, worthy of the highest rank. The duke of Berry, however, was unwilling to anger the king of France, who knew well that he was solicited by many persons for the hand of his daughter: among whom were the young duke of Lorraine, the count d’Armagnac, and the eldest son of the count de Foix and de Béarn. The king was averse to all these proposals, and said to the duke of Berry, — “Fair uncle of Berry, we are not willing that our cousin your daughter should be settled at a distance from the fleurs-de-lis. We will provide a marriage for her, that shall be suitable in all respects. We see her with pleasure near us; and it becometh her not to leave her mother-in-law, as they are nearly of the same age.” These words and others cooled the duke’s intentions of marrying his daughter otherwise than as it pleased the king, who leant to his cousin the lord Philip d’Artois. He was a young and gallant knight, and had acquired great renown in arms, in the different expeditions he had made, as well near home as beyond sea, and was also much in the favour of the knights and squires of France.
The dukes of Berry and Burgundy agreed, that if the king would give to their cousin of Artois the office of constable of France which was now vacant, from the sentence against sir Oliver de Clisson, the marriage with the lady Mary should take place; for, in case he were constable, he would be wealthy enough to keep a becoming state. They resolved to speak to the king on this subject, which they did, as follows: — “My lord, your council recommends that our cousin, the lord Philip d’Artois, count d’Eu, be invested with the office of constable of France; for Clisson, by the sentence of your judges in parliament, has forfeited it, and the office cannot longer be vacant without great prejudice to the realm. You are bounden, as well as ourselves, to assist our cousin of Artois, for he is very nearly related to us by blood; and, since such office is vacant, we cannot better fill it than by sir Philip d’Artois, for he will ably and loyally execute it, and is much beloved by every knight and squire, being without envy or avarice.” This speech was very agreeable to the king, who gaily replied, that he would think of it, and, if the office was to be disposed of, he would rather the count d’Eu had it than any other. Things remained some time in this state; but 555 the king was continually solicited by his uncles, who were desirous of advancing sir Philip d’Artois, and degrading sir Oliver de Clisson; for the duke of Berry hated him for the death of Bethisac, and the duke of Burgundy for his opposition to the duke of Brittany; but the duchess of Burgundy was yet more inveterate against him than her lord. The king at length gave his assent, on condition the duke of Berry gave him his daughter.
But, before matters had proceeded thus far, in order to avoid disgusting the king, and to satisfy the duke of Orleans, who strongly supported the lord de Clisson, sir William des Bordes, sir William Martel, both knights of the king’s chamber, and sir Philip de Savoisis, knight to the duke of Berry, were again sent to Brittany, to speak with sir Oliver de Clisson in the king’s name. These knights, having made their preparations, took their road through Angers, where they met the queen of Jerusalem and John of Brittany, who handsomely entertained them, in honour of the king. The remained at Angers two days, and inquired where they could find the lord de Clisson, for they had a very courteous message to deliver to him from the king alone, who had ordered them to speak with him. They replied, that they had not any positive intelligence where he was; but they supposed he must be in one of his castles in Brittany: that he did not constantly remain in any one, but moved from one to another. At their departure, the knights took leave of the queen, her son Charles, prince of Tarentum, and John of Brittany, count de Penthievre, and continued their journey to Rennes. The duke of Brittany had shut himself up with his duchess in Vannes, without making any excursions abroad for fear of ambuscades, and meeting his adversary Clisson, as they were carrying on a murderous war against each other. When their parties met, mercy was shown by neither, and the field was gained by the death of their opponents: if, therefore, he felt alarmed, he had cause for it; for, although the duke was sovereign of the country, there was not a knight or squire that would bear arms against the lord de Clisson. They dissembled with the duke, saying, the quarrel did not any way concern them, and staid at home without interfering. This the duke was forced to put up with.
When the knights arrived at Rennes, they asked where they could for certain find sir Oliver de Clisson, but no one could positively answer them. They resolved to ride to château-Josselin, and were well received by the vassals of sir Oliver, out of respect to the 556 king of France. They inquired after their lord, and where they could see him, for they were sent by the king and the duke of Orleans to speak with him. They either would not, or could not, give them any satisfactory account; but said, in excuse for themselves and sir Oliver, — “Certainly, my lords, not one of u knows where to find him: to-day he is at one place, to-morrow at another. You may safely ride all over Brittany, since you come from the king; and all the castles and houses of our lord will be thrown open to you.”
Perceiving they could not obtain any further information, they left château-Josselin, and rode to all the castles, both great and small, of the lord de Clisson, but without learning anything more. They then waited on the duke and duchess at Vannes, who gave them a hearty welcome; but they only staid half a day with them, without discovering the object of their secret mission, nor was the duke very inquisitive about their coming. They did not see sir Peter de Craon. On taking leave of the duke and duchess, they set out on their return to Paris to the king and lords, who were expecting them. They gave an account to the king and the duke of Orleans, of having visited all the towns and castles of the lord de Clisson without seeing or gaining any certain intelligence of him. The duke of Berry and Burgundy were pleased at hearing this, and would not have wished it otherwise.
Shortly afterward, the marriage was consummated between the lord Philip d’Artois and the lady Mary of Berry. He was appointed constable of France, to enjoy all the privileges and emoluments of that office, although sir Oliver de Clisson had not resigned it, nor sent back his sword of office. He persisted that he was still constable, for that he had never done anything against the king or crown of France that could have deprived him of it. Things, therefore, remained in this state.
CHAPTER LVI. — THE CONSTABLE DE CLISSON, DURING HIS ABSENCE FROM FRANCE, WAGES WAR ON THE DUKE OF BRITTANY.
SIR Oliver de Clisson was soon informed that the count d’Eu was nominated constable of France, and was to do the duty and receive the profits from the date of his appointment, with the consent of the king of France, and that he had married the daughter of the duke of Berry, widow of lord Louis of Blois. To all this he was perfectly indifferent, for he felt that his loyalty and honor were as firm as ever, and that he had never done anything to forfeit either against the king or crown of France, but that all these proceedings originated in the hatred and malice of the dukes of Berry and Burgundy, which were so great that they could not conceal them. This determined the lord de Clisson to continue his war with prudence and vigour against the duke of Brittany. It was severe and bloody, for neither party, when they met, made a sham of fighting, but killed each other without mercy. The lord de Clisson rode frequently from one of his castles to another, and laid more ambuscades than the duke, finding himself superior in numbers to oppose him. None of the Breton chivalry would interfere by bearing arms on either side; but, when the duke sent for them, they came to know what he wanted. He demanded from them aid and advice to correct his vassal, sir Oliver de Clisson, who had greatly misbehaved himself towards him. The barons of Brittany, such as the viscount de Rohan, the lord de Dinant, sir Hermen de Lyon, and many more, excused themselves, saying, they were uninterested in this quarrel, and would not therefore bear arms against the lord de Clisson; but that they would heartily labour to mediate between the duke and him, if they knew how, or saw any probability of establishing peace between them.
The duke seeing he could no way prevail on them to join him, and that in this warfare he was losing more men than the lord de Clisson, consented to send the above-named barons to treat with him, and bring him, under safe passports, to Vannes, that they might confer together. They were to add, that he would find him courteous and well-inclined to listen to any reasonable terms; and, if he had treated him with contempt, he would make such reparations as those he addressed should think proper. The knights willingly undertook the mission, for the sake of doing good, and set out in search of sir Oliver de Clisson, whom I believe they found at château-Josselin. They told him the message they were charged with 557 from the duke, and urged him strongly to accept of peace; for war between them was very unbecoming, displeasing to the nobles, and highly oppressive to the lower orders in Brittany. “Sir Oliver,” said they, “we are thus pressing, in the hope that you will be pleased to wait on our lord; and, for your safety and secure return, we pledge ourselves to remain in your castle of Josselin, without ever stirring beyond the gates. We imagine, that when our lord and you shall confer together, you will very speedily settle your differences, for we left him with the best intentions towards you.”
To this speech, sir Oliver replied, — “My good sirs, what advantage can my death be to you? Do you think I know not the duke of Brittany? Most certainly I do; and he is too haughty and revengeful, whatever he may have assured you relative to my security and safe return, not to resolve the moment I shall be in his presence to have me put to death, in spite of his promises to you; and, if I be killed, your fate will be the same, for my people will of course retaliate on you. It is, therefore, much better we run not such risks. I will guard myself well against him; and let him, it he please, do the same.” “Fair cousin,” replied sir Charles de Dinant, “you may say what you please; we have not seen him show any wish to have you killed, if he could converse with you in the manner we have proposed, but, on the contrary, the strongest desire to accommodate all matters of dispute. We therefore, for him and for ourselves, beg you will consent to it.” Sir Oliver answered, — “I believe firmly, that you wish me every good; but, on the security he offers through you, I will not advance one step. However, since you are all so earnest in the business, for which it behoves me to thank you, I will mention on what terms I will come to him; and you shall, if they be agreeable to you, carry them back as my final answer. On your return, you will tell the duke, that I will not accept other pledge for my safety than his only son, who is betrothed to a princess of France. Let him send him hither to remain under the guard of my men, in château-Josselin, until I be returned, and I will then set out to wait on him. This mode is more agreeable to me than any other, and also more reasonable; for were you to remain here as hostages, as you offer, who would there be to negotiate the treaty? or who would be the mediators between us? and how, without your interference, shall we ever come to an agreement?” When the three barons saw he was determined, they took leave of the lord de Clisson, and returned to Vannes, to relate to the duke what sir Oliver had said. In regard to sending his son to château-Josselin, the duke absolutely refused, and the war continued on the same footing as before, so that no merchants or others dared to travel through the country. All commerce was at a stand in Brittany, which was severely felt in the cities and large towns: even the labourers in husbandry were also in a state of idleness.
The duchess of Burgundy assisted her cousin as much as she could with men at arms from Burgundy and elsewhere, for the duke could not prevail on is subjects to take part in the war, and the knights and squires, excepting those of his household, dissembled their opinions. On the other hand, the duke of Orleans, who was attached to the constable, supported him underhand, and sent him men at arms and good coursers to re-mount his men. Sir Oliver made more frequent excursions than the duke, and it happened the met with two of the duke’s squires who were going on his business: one of them was called Bernard, and the other Yvonnet: they could neither fly nor avoid falling into sir Oliver’s hands, who was rejoiced at it, for he was well acquainted with them. One had in former times done him a service, the other the contrary, which he then recollected. They were much frightened at being thus caught, and sir Oliver addressed them, — “Dost thou remember, Yvonnet, how cruelly thou behavedst to me in the castle of Ermine, near Vannes, when thou didst shut me up in a dungeon? Thou, Bernard, thou hadst pity on me, and pulling off thy coat, because it was only in my doublet and lying on the pavement, gavest it to me, to cover me from the cold. I will now return that friendship, by sparing thy life; but as for this wicked traitor, Yvonnet, who might have avoided, if he pleased, the cruelty of his conduct, he shall suffer.” At these words, he drew his dagger, and slew him on the spot. He then continued his course, without touching the servants.
Another time, sir Oliver de Clisson, with about three hundred lances, was riding before the castle of Auray, in which were the duke and duchess. He met about forty of the duke’s 558 varlets, who had tied their horses to trees, for it was near midsummer, and, having cut some hay, were trussing it up to carry, like foragers, to their lodgings. Sir Oliver galloped among them, without other harm than the fright he put them to, and said, — “How dare you take the field, and carry away the harvest of the farmers. You have not sown this, and are cutting it before it is ripe: you have begun your harvest too soon. Come, take up your scythes, and mount your horses: for this time I will do you no harm; but go and tell the duke of Brittany, who I know is in Auray, to come hither, or send his men to receive me; and that Clisson informs him he will remain here until sun-set.” The varlets were happy in their escape, for they thought they should all be killed; therefore they picked up their scythes, mounted their horses, and returned to the duke in Auray. I doubt not they punctually delivered the message, but the duke neither sallied out himself, nor sent any of his men to meet sir Oliver de Clisson. Such skirmishes passed often between them, but the principal inhabitants never interfered.
We will now leave the affairs of Brittany, and return to those of France and England.
CHAPTER LVII. — A TREATY OF PEACE IS CONCLUDED BETWEEN THE KING OF FRANCE AND ENGLAND, THROUGH THE MEDIATION OF THEIR UNCLES.
YOU have before heard of the conferences that were held at Amiens on a peace between France and England, and on what terms the duke of Lancaster had gone back. The English were unwilling to consent to a peace, notwithstanding the king, the dukes of Lancaster and York, and all the commissioner who had been at Amiens, strongly urged it; for the majority of the commons were desirous of war; and two thirds of the young knights and squires knew not how to employ themselves; they had learnt idleness, and looked to war as the means of support. However, they were forced to submit to the opinions of the king, his uncles, and the more intelligent part of the nation. The duke of Lancaster, considering the matter, as well in regard to the welfare of his two daughters, the queens of Castille and Portugal, as in respect to his nephew, the king of England, who was greatly inclined to peace, took much pains to bring it about, because he thought it would likewise be for the honour and advantage of England.
On the part of France, the duke of Burgundy greatly exerted himself, for he found the whole weight of the government rested on him; since his nephews, the king and the duke of Orleans, were weak in body and mind. He was of great power by his marriage with the heiress of Flanders, and daily expecting to inherit Brabant also. If, therefore, in times to come, these countries should quarrel with France, and unite themselves, as they had formerly done, with England, they would be an overmatch for her. The duke of Burgundy was a long-sighted politician, as I was told by those who ought to know; and he and the duke of Lancaster effected that the conferences should be renewed at Leulinghen, where they had before been held, and that the commissioners should have full powers to conclude a peace. The conferences were to be holden in the ensuing month of May, at Leulinghen, in the year of grace 1393. It had been thus agreed to by both parties, and commissioners were appointed by each king.
On the part of the king of England, were his two uncles the dukes of Lancaster and Gloucester: this last was very popular with the commons of England, and all others who preferred war to peace. From among the prelates were selected the archbishop of York, the bishop of London, and other clerks learned in the laws, to expound the Latin letters.
These lords* repaired to Calais soon after St. George’s day, which is always celebrated at Windsor with great feastings by the knights of the blue garter. The dukes of Berry and Burgundy made preparations for coming to Boulogne, that they might be near at hand to the place of conference. The king of France showed great impatience for peace, as the wars had lasted too long; and he said to his uncles, that he would fix his residence near to 559 Leulinghen, to prove how eager he was in the matter, and to be ready to hand if necessary. It was proposed that he should be at Saint Omer, on the frontiers of Calais, or at Therouenne, Montreuil, or Abbeville; but the last place was determined on for his residence, as it was large and convenient, and the court could be easily be lodged on the banks of the beautiful river Somme.
When this was fixed, great preparations were made for the reception of the king in Abbeville; and the abbey of Saint Peter, as being a large and handsome edifice of the Benedictine monks, was chosen for his lodgings. Thither came the king of France, accompanied by his brother, the duke of Orleans, and sir Reginald de Corbie† chancellor of France. The dukes of Berry and Burgundy, with the other commissioners, were at Boulogne, and the duke of Lancaster and his company at Calais. It was a handsome show to see the state and array of the French and English commissioners, when they opened the conferences at Leulinghen, between Boulogne and Calais. There were tents and pavilions erected for them to take refreshments, or sleep in on occasion; and two or three days in the week the commissioners met, and were frequently nine hours discussing the preliminaries for a peace, in a large and handsome pavilion that had been pitched for their assembling in.
It was told me (for I, John Froissart, the writer of this history was at Abbeville, that I might learn the truth of what was passing,) by those who were well informed, that after the procurations from the two kings had been verified as to the commissioners’ powers of concluding a peace, the French proposed that Calais should be so demolished, as that it could never again be made habitable. The dukes of Lancaster and Gloucester instantly answered that they needed not have made this proposition, for that Calais would be they very last town the crown of England would part with; and that if they intended this as a basis for treating, here was an end to the business, for they would not hear further on the subject. The dukes of Berry and Burgundy, perceiving their cousins of England so determined, dropped the matter, for they found it would be in vain to press it, and discourses on other topics. The English, for a long time, demanded restitution of every thing that had been yielded to the late king Edward, and, in addition to these territories, the balance of the ransom that he been due when the war was renewed between France and England. This was resisted strenuously by the French dukes who argued themselves, and by their learned clerks, on the unreasonableness of the demand. The two dukes and the chancellor of France replied with temper, — “that with regard to the first demand, that the whole of the territory that had been yielded to king Edward should be restored, it was impossible; for the inhabitants of the towns, castles, and lands, which had been assigned to England by the treaty of Bretigny, and afterwards confirmed at Calais, in the year 1360, were too adverse to such restoration; and the king of France, to whom they had voluntarily surrendered themselves, had, in consequence, accepted their homage, granted them protection, and such other privileges, on his royal word, as could not be broken; and that, if they wished for peace, they must offer other preliminaries.”
It was then resolved, between the four dukes, on whom it solely depended whether there should be peace or war, that each party should reduce to writing their different grounds of treating, and mutually deliver them to each other, to consider of them at their leisure, with their clerks, learned in the laws, who had accompanied them, and determine on what parts they could agree to, and what would not be accepted. This was assented to by all; for the dukes were before much fatigue in hearing the various papers read and discussed; more especially the English commissioners; for, as it was carried on in French, they were not so well used to the finesse and double meanings of that language as the natives, who turned and twisted it to their own advantage at pleasure. The English opposed this, for they wished every thing to be made clear and intelligible to every one. The French accused the English of having, at various times, infringed the articles of the peace, and offered to prove it by written documents, and the word of their king, as well as by the judgment of the pope. This made the English more diligent to have every thing made out plain; and, whenever 560 they found anything obscure in the proposals that had been given them from the French commissioners, which they examined carefully and at leisure, they made their clerks demand from the dukes of Berry and Burgundy how they understood such expressions; for the English dukes would not pass over an article that had the least tendency to a double meaning; and whatever they did not clearly understand they had erased in their presence, declaring they would not allow of any thing that could bear a misconstruction for that the French, who had been from their youth trained to such things, were more subtle than the English.
So many difficulties greatly lengthened the conferences; and the English held themselves obliged to demand restitution of all the lands dependent on Aquitaine, and their profits since the commencement of the war, as they had been charged to do by the parliament of England. This the French would not agree to: they were willing, indeed, to yield the countries of Tarbes, Bigorre, Agen, and the Agenois, with Perigord, but declared they would never restore Cahors, Rouergue, Quercy, and Limousin, nor give up any part of Ponthieu or Guines more than the English possessed at the present moment. On these grounds things remained: they stood out for upwards of fifteen days, and only came to the conclusion that it should be laid before the two kings: to forward the business, the dukes of Berry and Burgundy offered to set out for Abbeville; to inform the king of France of all that had passed; and, if he would acquiesce in the English proposals, they would not oppose them. They entreated, on the other hand, their cousins to write to king Richard, and amicably let him know what they had done; for he had, for two years past, shown the most anxious desire for peace between England, France, and all their allies. The two dukes promised compliance; but you must know, as I was well informed, the duke of Gloucester was more difficult to persuade than his brother, and he had been purposely chosen his colleague, by those who preferred war to peace, because they knew he would not assent to any thing that was in the least dishonourable to his country. The four dukes then separated in a most friendly manner, having been nine days in conference. The English commissioners returned to Calais, and the French to Boulogne, whence they set out for Abbeville. They found there the king of France, who was amusing himself, he having taken a liking to the place. There is scarcely any city in France more pleasantly situated; and within it is a handsome inclosed garden, partly surrounded by the river Somme, in which the king spent much of his time, and often supped there, telling his brother and council that the air of Abbeville had done his health great good.
At this time, Leon king of Armenia was with the king of France; he was just come from Greece and the frontiers of his own kingdom, into which he dared not venture; for the Turks had conquered, and kept possession of it as well as other places, in defiance of the world, excepting the strong town of Conich‡, situated on the sea-shore, which the Genoese had strongly garrisoned and guarded against he Turks; for, if they had possession of this place, they would grievously harass by sea the Cyprotes, and other Christians of Rhodes and Candia. The king of Armenia would gladly have seen a peace concluded between France and England, that such knights ands squires as wished for deeds of arms might travel to Greece, and assist him in the recovery of his kingdom.
The king received kindly his two uncles at Abbeville, and made them good cheer. He asked how the treaty was going on, and how they were themselves. They having related to him the true state of affairs, and how all has passed, he was well contented, and testified his joy and wishes for peace. In like manner, the two English dukes, on their arrival at Calais, had written to the king of England the demands and answers made to them, which, being sealed, were forwarded to him. In reply to which, the king had desired they would proceed in the treaty, for the war had lasted long enough, to the ruin of the country, and the slaughter of chivalry, and the great weakening of Christendom. “This might,” he added, “have serious consequences; for Bajazet with his Turks were advancing towards the kingdom of Hungary, and were now in Wallachia, as letters to France and England had brought information.”
The time was now come for the return of the four dukes and commissioners to the renewal of the conferences at Leulinghen. With the French lords came the king of Armenia, to 561 remonstrate with the English on his distressing situation: he was well known to the duke of Gloucester, when he had visited England during the threatened invasion from France, who had shown him many civilities, and carried him to a beautiful castle he had in Essex, called Pleshy. The dukes of Lancaster and Gloucester received him well, particularly the last, on account of former acquaintance. They patiently listened to all his grievances, and replied so graciously that he was well contented with them. At these conferences many different proposals were made, and the cardinal de Luna§, in hopes of being heard by the commissioner, had made a long stay at Abbeville, whither he had been sent as legate by pope Clement for the affairs of the church. He was lodged at the convent of the Cordeliers, on the river Somme. The French wanted to insert in their preliminaries some articles relative to the church and to the support of this Robert de Geneve, who styled himself pope: but when the English dukes observed this, they stepped forward with courage, saying to their cousins of France, — “Take away this legate: we want not to hear his speeches: it has not been without fully weighing their merits that we have determined which of the popes to obey. We desire, therefore, not to hear anything on this subject; and, should he again come forward under your protection, we will break up the conference and return home.” From this time, nothing more was said of the cardinal, who remained quiet in Abbeville. The lords now pushed forward the treaty with such success that it was brought to a happy conclusion, and to the satisfaction of all parties.
The four dukes saw their respective kings were anxious for peace, more especially the king of France, who, when the duke of Lancaster had taken leave of him at Amiens during the former conferences, had said, — “Fair cousin, I beg you to exert yourself that there may be a solid peace between my brother of England and me, that we may assist our cousin the king of Hungary against Bajazet, who is so powerful in Turkey.” The duke of Lancaster had promised the king to do his utmost; and indeed it was through his remonstrances with his nephew, king Richard, his brothers, and the parliament, that the conferences were renewed at Leulinghen, to establish a peace, if possible, to the honour of England. The duke of Gloucester was much colder in the matter, and carefully noticed all the contentious speeches of the French, saying, the French always wished to fight with both hands. He made so strong an opposition, that the adverse party perceiving it, sent a squire of honour, and of the bed-chamber and council of the king of France, to the duke: his name was Robert l’Hermite; and this is what he said, for the duke related to me the words at his castle of Pleshy. “My lord, for the love of God do not longer oppose a peace. You see how diligent our lords of Franc are in promoting it, and it will be charity in you to join them, for the war has lasted too long; and, when kings wish for peace, their relations and subjects ought to obey.” “Robert, Robert,” replied the duke of Gloucester, “I wish not to prevent a peace; but you Frenchmen use such specious words, beyond our understanding, that, when you will, you may urge them as signifying war or peace as you shall choose. In this manner has the business hitherto been conducted, dissembling always until you have gained your end. If my lord the king had believed me, and the majority of those who are bound to serve him, there never would have been peace with France, until you had restored to us all you have taken through treacherous causes, as is known to God, and to all who will search into the business. But, since my lord inclines to peace, you are in the right to press it forward: it is just that we should also approve of it, and since peace is so much wished for are we here assembled; let it, however, be well kept on your sides, as it shall be on ours.” On saying this, the duke of Gloucester went away. Robert l’Hermite, at the same time, took his leave, and returned to his countrymen. I will not protract the subject longer, but come to the conclusion, as the matter requires it.
The four dukes, having full powers from their respective monarchs, to conclude a truce or peace, continued their conferences with such success, that the report in Abbeville was current of a peace having been made between France, England, and their allies. But I, the author of this history, who at the time resided in Abbeville, to learn more, could never understand that a peace had been concluded: only the truce had been prolonged for four years, on sea 562 and land, between all the parties. It was imagined that, before the expiration of this term, all the territories and lordships in Languedoc, that were to revert to the kings of England and their heirs for ever, would be surrendered to king Richard, or to his commissioners. In return for the giving up so many towns, castles, and lordships, which had been agreed to by the commissioners for peace, the dukes of Lancaster and Gloucester engaged that their captains of whatever nation they might be, who held possession of different forts in France, that were to revert to the king of France, should evacuate them, and cease from carrying on any war under the name and pretext of the king of England or the English. All the articles of the truce were fairly written out, signed and sealed by the different lords, and copies of them sent to the two kings, before they parted, at Leulinghen.
The king of England was very impatient to hear of peace being concluded, and his uncles, knowing this, determined to send him an express with the news: they called to them a herald, named Marche, who was king at arms in England, and wrote to the king by him the whole detail of what had been agreed on, and signed by both parties. The herald was rejoiced to receive these letters from the dukes, and, leaving the English tents, rode to Calais, where he hired a fishing-boat, and, by the grace of God, a favourable wind, and the exertions of the fishermen, was speedily landed at Dover. He then continued his journey until he came to London, where he found the king. On his arrival, he was introduced into the king’s chamber, because he was come from Calais, where the king’s uncles were negotiating a peace. He presented his letters; and the king, having perused them, was so well pleased with their contents, and the good news he had brought, that he gave him very rich gifts, and a handsome annuity, as the herald told me afterwards when riding with him through part of England.
* In the Fœdera the commissioners are, — the duke of Lancaster, — the duke of Gloucester, — Walter bishop of Durham, — Thomas earl Marshal, governor of Calais, — sir Thomas Percy, — sir Lewis Clifford, — Edward Rouhall, doctor of laws.
† I imagine this must be a mistake, though the MSS. are the same; for Pierre de Giac was chancellor after sir Miles des Dormans, and died 1407. Arnaud de Corbie succeeded him, and died 1413. — HENAULT. (Pierre de Giac died the 17th Aug., 1387, and Arnaud de Corbie succeeded him in that year, and not in 1407. — ED.
‡ “Conich.” The MSS. have Gourch.
§ The cardinal de Luna, an Arragonian, was anti-pope after the death of Clement, under the name of Benedict XIII. See more of his turbulent life in Muratori, &c.
CHAPTER LVIII. — THE TREATY OF PEACE IS NEARLY BROKEN OFF BY POPE BONIFACE, AND BY THE KING OF FRANCE RELAPSING INTO HIS FORMER ILLNESS.
LET us now return to the commissioners from France and England at Leulinghen. When they pleased they lived in tents, which were prepared for the in great numbers and magnificence. The English were very attentive to the verification of the different papers, that nothing obscure or doubtful might remain. They examined every paper, and had every expression made clear before they signed them. From an event that happened, the negotiations which had taken up so much time were near being broken off. I will say what it was; for in matters of history everything should be detailed, that the truth may be more apparent. You have heard that the king of France had made a long stay at Abbeville: he took pleasure in the place, but his stay was prolonged on account of the treaty that was going forward at Leulinghen.
Just at the conclusion of the treaty, the dukes of Lancaster and Gloucester declared it was the intention of king Richard and the parliament, hat pope Boniface, who was acknowledged for the true pope by the Romans, Germans, Hungarians, Lombards, Venetians, English, and by all Christendom except France, should be received as such, and the person who styled himself pope Clement be degraded and condemned. This proposal, the two dukes said, they had been specifically ordered to make by the three estates of England. When the dukes of Berry and Burgundy heard this, to please their cousins of England, and to prevent the treaty from being interrupted, they desired, in a friendly way, to have a little time to consider what they had proposed. It being granted, they consulted together; and the duke of burgundy eloquently and prudently answered as follows, to soften the matter to the English dukes: — “it does not seem to us any way proper that we should intermix without our negotiations the dispute between the two popes. My brother of Berry and myself are somewhat surprised how you could have proposed it, for at the beginning of the conferences you objected to the presence of the cardinal de Luna, who is now at Abbeville, as legate from the pope, and refused to hear anything he had to say. We had before determined that when the cardinals elected Urban for pope, and on his death Boniface, the elections were null, for no one either from your country or ours was summoned to them; and the election of him who calls himself 563 Clement and resides at Avignon is, from the same cause, in the like predicament. We do not deny that it would be great charity in those who could attend to it, to appease and put an end to this schism in the church. But, in regard to ourselves, we must refer the matter to the university of Paris; and, when all our business here shall be concluded by a solid peace, we will, in conjunction with the council of our cousin the king of Germany, willingly attend to this matter, as you may do on your side.”
This reply of the duke of Burgundy was agreeable to the English dukes, for it seemed reasonable, and they answered, “You have well spoken: let the matter now rest, and be as you say.” The negotiations were going on as well as before; but there fell out, just at the conclusion, a great hindrance by the king of France relapsing into the same frenzy by which he was afflicted in the preceding year. He had remained at Abbeville until near Midsummer, at the abbey of Saint Peter, passing his time in a variety of amusements. The first that noticed his relapse was a Norman knight, called sir William Martel, who was employed the most about the king’s person. The dukes of Berry and Burgundy were at the time at Leulinghen or Boulogne, bringing the conference to a close, or at least finishing all that could be done this year. The moment the duke of Orleans perceived the state o the king’s health, he sent information to his uncles by a favourite squire of his own, called Boniface, an agreeable man. The two dukes, on hearing this unfortunate intelligence, set out as speedily as they could; for they had already taken leave of their cousins of England, who were returned to Calais to wait for information from the king of Navarre and the duke of Brittany.
It had been proposed at the conferences, that as the castle of Cherbourg in Normandy, had been mortgaged to the king of England for sixty thousand nobles, who in consequence had possession, it should be restored to the king of Navarre, on the king of France repaying the sixty thousand nobles; and in like manner was the castle of Brest to be surrendered to the duke of Brittany. The dukes of Berry and Burgundy did not wait for the conclusion of these two articles, but hastened to Abbeville, where, to their sorrow, they found the king in a very poor state of health. The king’s disorder was kept secret as long as possible, but in such cases it is very soon publicly known. The court at Abbeville was shortly dispersed, an every one retired to his home. Councils were holden as to the proper place the king should be conveyed to, and in respect to his management. The castle of Creil was again fixed on for his residence, whither he was carried in a litter. The weather was now so hot, that they rested the day and only travelled the night season; the king was attended to Creil by his brother and the duke of Berry. The duke of Burgundy went to Artois, and thence visited Flanders, having met his duchess at the castle of Hêdin.
The lord de la Riviere and sir John le Mercier seemed entirely forgotten: no one spoke of them, nor interfered in their delivery from prison. This relapse of the king had, however, greatly exculpated them for the accusations of having been the cause of his first illness in the eyes of the public. The wisest in France had now learnt, that from the weakness of his nerves, he was naturally inclined to this disorder, which had been brought forward with greater force from the excesses he had indulged in. It was much regretted by those who wished his recovery that master William de Harseley was no more, for his relatives knew not where to seek a prudent physician that was acquainted with this disorder. It was, however, a matter of necessity to make the best use of such as they had.
CHAPTER LIX. — THE DEATH OF POPE CLEMENT AT AVIGNON. — THE ELECTION OF POPE BENEDICT. — A LEARNED CLERK, IN THE ARCHBISHOPRIC OF RHEIMS, SUPPORTS THE RIGHT OF THE SEE OF AVIGNON, BY HIS SPEECHES AND PREACHINGS.
IN the month of September, of this year, Robert de Geneve, whom we have called pope in our history, died at his palace in Avignon.*. It happened to him just as he had wished, that he might die pope. He died indeed with the honour and state I have mentioned, but whether he enjoyed these wrongfully or not, I shall not pretend to determine, for such 563 matters do not belong to me. The cardinals at Avignon were much surprised at this event, and resolved to form a conclave in haste, and elect one from among themselves as his successor.
The health of the king of France was again beginning to return, to the great joy of all who loved him, and his good queen, who had been in great affliction. She was a valiant lady, whom God corrected and loved: she had made many processions, and given great alms, in hopes of his recovery, in several parts of France, but especially in Paris.
The college of cardinals at Avignon, as I was then informed, elected pope the cardinal legate de Luna. To say the truth, he was a devout man, and of a contemplative life; but they had chosen him subject to the approbation of the king of France and his council, otherwise they would not have been able to maintain their elections. Consider how much the church must have been degraded by this schism, when those who were, or ought to have been free, thus subjected themselves to the will of others, whom they should have commanded. All the solemnities required at the coronation of a pope were paid to the cardinal de Luna, who took the name of Benedict†. He offered a general pardon to all clergy who should come to Avignon; and, by the advice of his cardinals, wrote letters to the king of France, to announce his elevation to the papacy. I heard that the king paid little attention to his letter; for he was not yet determined whether to acknowledge him for pope or no; and, to have the best advice on the occasion, he summoned before him the most learned and prudent clerks of the university of Paris.
Master John Gigencourt and master Peter Playons‡, who were esteemed the most learned and acute in the university, told the king, as did others, that the schism in the church corrupted the Christian faith; that the church ought not longer to be kept in this state, for that all Christendom suffered from it, but more particularly churchmen; and that it was unbecoming the university to send to pope Benedict at Avignon, lists of those priest who had need of briefs. The king, on hearing their opinions, thought them reasonable, and consented that there should be a cessation of such lists as were usually sent to the pope, until the disputes between the two popes were settled: things therefore remained in this state. The duke of Berry, however, strenuously supported the new pope; and all the clergy dependent on him acknowledged him for the true one; and many of his people were provided with pardons from this Benedict. The duke and duchess of Burgundy, the duke of Orleans, with many other great lords of France, dissembled their real opinions on the subject to the king. Some through favour acknowledged Benedict, who was prodigal of his pardons, in order that the court of Avignon might thrive the more.
The duke of Brittany readily enough followed the opinion of the king of France; for he had been in former times so scandalised by the information the earl of Flanders, his cousin, had given him of the rebellion in the church, that he would never allow of Clement being the true pope, although his clergy paid him obedience and acknowledged him. When any of the churches in France became vacant, the king disposed of them to clergymen, without ever speaking of it to pope Benedict, who, as well as his cardinals, was greatly surprised at such conduct, and began to fear the king would deprive them of the benefices they held in his realm. They resolved, therefore, to send a well-instructed legate to France, to remonstrate with the king and council on the state of the church, and to learn their intentions, and likewise to assure them that the pope they had elected was only conditionally chosen, in case of his proving agreeable to the king, but that otherwise they would dethrone him, and exalt another more to his pleasure.
About this period, the friar, whom I before mentioned to have been sent by pope Boniface§ to the king of France, but without the pomp or state of a legate, arrived at Paris, with the consent of the king, who listened to his arguments and sermons with pleasure. The legate from Avignon, a subtle and eloquent clerk, was heard also by the 565 king and his court: those attached to the pope at Avignon took good care to push him forward, and contrived that he should have audiences often. It was the opinion of the council, but it was not without great difficulty the university of Paris subscribed to this opinion, that it would be a wise and prudent measure, if means could be found to make the rival popes resign their dignities, as well as all the cardinals, and then select the most learned and prudent among the clergy, from the empires of Germany, France, and other countries, who should form a general council, and then, without favour or affection to any party, restore the church to its former unity, discipline, and stability. They declared they saw no other way of destroying the schism; for the hearts of different lords were so swollen with pride, each would support his own party.
This idea, which was proposed in the presence of the king, and the dukes of Orleans and Burgundy, in council, was approved of; and the king, having agreed to it, said he would cheerfully write on the subject to the kings of Germany, Bohemia, Hungary, and England; that he thought he could depend on the kings of Castille, Navarre, Arragon, Sicily, Naples, and Scotland, obeying whatever pope he should acknowledge. In consequence of this proposition being adopted, the king of France sent off special messengers with letters to the kings above mentioned, but answers were not returned to them as soon as expected. During this interval, that learned clerk, master John de Gigencourt, died at the Sorbonne. The king of France, his court, and the university were very sorry for the loss, as his equal was not at Paris, and he would have been of singular service in reforming the church, and bringing about a union.
At this time, there was at Avignon a clerk well skilled in science, doctor of laws, and auditor of the palace: he aw a native of the archbishopric of Rheims, and called sir John de Varennes. He was much advanced in the church for the services he had rendered pope Clement and others, and was on the point of being a bishop or cardinal. He had also been chaplain to a cardinal, called, at Avignon, Saint Peter of Luxembourg. This John de Varennes, beneficed and advanced as he was, resigned all, retaining only, for his subsistence, the canonry of our Lady at Rheims, which is worth, by residence, one hundred francs; otherwise not more than thirty. He quitted Avignon, returned to his native country, and fixed his abode at the village of Saint Lye, near Rheims, where he led a devout life, preaching the faith and works of our Lord, and praising the pope of Avignon. He declared he was the true pope, condemning, by his speeches, that of Rome. He was much attended to, and followed by the people, who came to see him from all countries, for the sober and holy life he led, fasting daily, and for the fine sermons he preached. Some, however, said that the cardinals at Avignon had sent him thither to support their cause, and to exhibit the holiness of his life, which was devout enough to have entitled him to be raised to the papacy. Master John de Varennes would not allow himself to be called the holy man of Saint Lye, but simply the Auditor. He lived with his mother, and every day said mass very devoutly. All that was given him, for he asked for nothing, he distributed in alms to the glory of God.
We will now leave him, and speak of other matters.
* He died on the 16th September, 1394. — ED.
† Peter of Luna, born of an illustrious family of Spain, was elected Pope on the 28th September, 1394, and took the name of Benedict XIII. Before his election, he subscribed an act by which all the cardinals promised on oath to use every effort for the reunion of the church, and even to resign the pontificate if necessary for that purpose. He, however, afterwards showed very little respect to this oath. — ED.
‡ In the Museum MS. it is Gignicourt and Pierre de Lyons: in mine, the first as D. Sauvage, and the other Pierre de Palions.
§ Boniface IX. elected Pope the 2nd Nov. 1389. — ED.
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