The carpet, or ordinary knights, must not be confounded with knights of the Bath, though both classes were knights of peace. Knights of the Bath had always precedence of knights-bachelors, without any regard to dates of creation. The knights of the Bath were men of rank and station, or distinguished for military qualities. They were created by our sovereign at their coronations, or on other great occasions, from the time of Henry V., when I last adverted to the subject, to so late a period as the reign of Charles II., who before he was crowned created sixty-eight knights of the Bath. When queens were sovereigns a commission was granted to a nobleman to create knights; and the commission of Queen Elizabeth to the Earl of Arundel is so rich in thought, and dignified in style, that I cannot resist the pleasure of transcribing it. After the usual salutations, “To all men,” the Queen declares as follows: “Whereas, we, minding to proceed to the solemnity of our coronation in such and like honourable sort as in the coronation of our progenitors hath been accustomed, and as to our estate and dignity appertaineth, have, both for the more adornment of the feast of our said coronation, and for the nobility of blood, good service, and other good qualities, of many our servants and other subjects, resolved to call certain of them to the order of knighthood. We let you wete, that for the special trust and confidence which we have reposed in our right trusty and right well-beloved cousin and counsellor, Henry Earl of Arundel, Lord Steward of our household, we have appointed, and by these presents do appoint and authorise him for us, and in our name, and by our authority, not only to do and exercise every thing and things to be done and exercised in our behalf, for the full making of those knights of the Bath, whom we have caused to be specially called for that purpose, but also to make and ordain such and so many other persons knights, within the time of two days next ensuing the date hereof, as by us shall be named, or by himself shall be thought meet, so that he exceed not in the whole the number of thirty,” &c.[137]

The ceremonies of creating those knights furnishes us with such an accurate picture of the manners of our ancestors, that, though I have touched upon the subject before, I shall, without apology, describe its minutest features. When an esquire came to court to receive the order of knighthood, in time of peace, after the custom of England, he was worshipfully received by the officers of the court, the steward, or chamberlain, if they were at the palace, or else by the marshals and ushers. Two esquires, sage, and well nourished in courtesy, and expert in deeds of knighthood, were assigned as his teachers and governors. If he arrived in the morning, he was to serve the King with water at dinner, or else to place a dish of the first course upon the table; and this was his farewell to his personal duties of esquire. His governors then led him to his chamber, where he remained alone till the evening, when they sent a barber to him, who prepared his bath. Water was not yet put into it, but the esquire was, who sat, wrapped in white cloths and mantles, while his beard was shaved, and his head rounded. All this being done, the governors went to the King, and said to him, “Most mighty Prince, our Sovereign Lord, it waxeth nigh unto the even, and our master is ready in the bath.” The King then commanded his chamberlain to take into the chamber of him who was to be made knight the prowest and wisest knights about the court, in order that they might instruct and counsel the esquire, touching the order of knighthood.

The chamberlain, preceded by minstrels singing and dancing, and accompanied by the chosen cavaliers, went to the door of the esquire’s room. When the governors heard the sound of minstrelsy, they stripped their master, and left him naked in the bath. The music ceased, and the chamberlain and his knights entered the room. After paying much worship and courtesy to each other, he to whom precedence was allowed advanced to the bath, and, kneeling down, whispered these words in the ear of the esquire: “Right dear brother, may this order bring great honour and worship unto you; and I pray that Almighty God may give you the praise of all knighthood. Lo! this is the order: Be ye strong in the faith of Holy Church, relieve widows and oppressed maidens, give every one his own, and, above all things, love and dread God. Superior to all other earthly objects, love the King, thy sovereign lord; him and his right defend unto thy power, and put him in worship.”

When the esquire was thus advised, the knight-counsellor took in his hand water from the bath, and threw it gently on the shoulder of his young friend. The other knights counselled and bathed him in a similar manner, and then, with the first knight, left the chamber. The governors took the esquire out of the bath, and laid him on a bed “to dry.” When the process of drying was finished, he was taken out of bed, and clothed warmly; and there was thrown over him a cope of black russet, with long sleeves, and the hood, like that of a hermit, sewn on the cope. The barber had the bath for his fee, and the operation of shaving was paid for separately, agreeably to the estate of the esquire; and if there was any dispute about the sum, the King’s Majesty’s judgment was looked to.

A joyous company of knights, with squires dancing, and minstrels singing, entered the room, and with light pace and gay deportment led their friend into the chapel. There they were refreshed with wines, spices, and sweatmeats; and the knights-counsellors, being thanked by the esquire for their great labour and worship, departed. The governors, the officers of arms, and the waits, remained in the chapel with the esquire. It was his duty to pass the night in prayer to Almighty God that he might worthily receive the honour, and discharge all the offices of knighthood. A taper of wax was always burning before him.

When the morning dawned a priest entered the chapel, and the more solemn duties of religion were proceeded with. Shriving, matins, the mass, and the communion, were performed, the esquire, during the principal ceremonies of the sacrament, holding the taper in his hand, with a penny stuck in the wax, near the light; and, finally, he offered them to the priest, the taper to the honour of God, and the penny to the honour of him that should make him a knight. His governors then took him from the chapel, and laid him in his bed, divesting him of his hermit’s weeds.

After some time for refreshment had been allowed him, the governors went to the King, and said, “Most victorious Prince, our master shall awake when it so pleaseth Your Majesty.” The King accordingly commanded the party of knights, esquires, and minstrels, to go into the chamber of the esquire, and awake him. They went, and said to him, “Sir, good day: it is time to arise.” The governors raised him in his bed: the most worthy and the most sage knight presented him his shirt, the next cavalier in consideration gave him his breeches, the third his doublet, the fourth his robe of red taffata, lined with white sarcenet; and, when he was thus partially clothed, two others lifted him out of bed. Two donned his hose, which were of black silk, or of black cloth, with soles of leather, two others buttoned his sleeves, another bound round him a girdle of plain white leather, an inch broad. The combing of the head, and putting on the coif, were each performed by a knight. Another gentle cavalier also gave him his mantle of red tartayn, crossed with white on the breast, and fastened with a lace of white silk, from which depended a pair of white gloves. How his white-feathered white hat got upon his head I know not; for the grave ceremonial is altogether silent about the matter.

The dressing being concluded, the esquire was placed on horseback, and led by the knights into the hall of the King, preceded by a young gentle esquire, also on horseback, and carrying by its point a sword, in a white scabbard, with gilt spurs hanging upon the cross hilt. The marshal of England assisted the candidate for knighthood to alight, and led him into the hall, where he sat at the head of the second table, surrounded by his counselling knights, his sword-bearer, and governors. The King, on entering the hall, demanded the sword and the spurs, and they were given to him by the chamberlain. The King gave the right spur to one of the noblest peers about him, commanding that lord to place it on the right heel of the esquire. The lord knelt on one knee, and, taking the esquire by the right leg, put the foot upon his knee, and not only affixed the spur to the heel, but made a cross upon the knee of the esquire, and kissed it. Another lord attached the left spur to the left foot with similar ceremonies. The King then, out of the meekness of his high might, girt the sword round the esquire. The esquire raised his arms, and the King, throwing his arms round the neck of the esquire, smote the esquire on the shoulder with his right hand, kissing him at the same time, and saying, “Be ye a good knight.”

The new-made knight was then conducted by his counselling knights into the chapel, upon whose high altar he laid his sword, offering it to God and Holy Church, most devoutly beseeching Heaven, that he might always worthily demean himself in the order. He then took a sup of wine and left the chapel, at whose door his spurs were taken off by the master-cook, who received them for his fee; and in the fine style of old English bluntness reminded him, that “if he ever acted unworthily of his knighthood, it would be his duty, with the knife with which he dressed the meats, to strike away his spurs, and that thus by the customs of chivalry he would lose his worship.” The new-made knight went into the hall, and sat at table with his compeers; but it did not deport with his modesty to eat in their presence, and his abashment kept him from turning his eyes hither and thither. He left the table after the King arose, and went to his chamber with a great multitude of knights, squires, and minstrels, rejoicing, singing, and dancing.

Alone in his chamber, and the door closed, the knight, wearied by this time with ceremony and fasting, ate and drank merrily. He then doffed much of his array, which was distributed among the officers of the household, and put on a robe of blue with the white lace of silk hanging on the shoulder, similar to that which was worn in the days of Henry V.; for however degenerated the world might have become, they could not for shame’s sake despise all the forms of chivalry. The ceremony, of inauguration concluded by expressions of thanks and courtesy. The knight went to the King, and kneeling before him, said, “Most dread and most mighty Prince, I gratefully salute you for the worship which you have so courteously given to me.” The governors thus addressed the knight: “Worshipful Sir, by the King’s command we have served you, and that command fulfilled to our power; and what we have done in our service against your reverence we pray you of your grace to pardon us. Furthermore, by the custom of the King’s court, we require of you robes and fees becoming the rank of King’s squires, who are fellows to the knights of other lands.”[138]

CHAP. IV.

The high rank of France among the civilised states of Europe in the middle ages decides the country to which our attention should be next directed in tracing the history of chivalry. Every French baron graced his nobility by the honour of knighthood, and was surrounded by a band of cavaliers. Kings, and even queens, had a certain number of knights who composed their court and accepted their pay; and the conferring of royal honours upon other men than possessors of mere wealth or rank had a powerful effect in promoting the virtues, whatever they might be, of the times. Merit was not considered, as a landed estate, to be altogether hereditary, and the personal nature of chivalry became a check upon the exclusiveness of aristocratical pride.[139]

The moral influence of the chivalric code in supporting justice and diffusing gentleness of manners is not very perceptible in the early ages of France; for the chroniclers of those times chiefly mark the general political circumstances of the decline of the house of Charlemagne, the establishing of a feudal aristocracy, and the rise of a new monarchy by the spirit and ambition of Hugh Capet.

In the eleventh century chivalry became a distinguishing feature in the national character of France, for the crusades began at that time; and France, above all other countries of the west, was influenced by their spirit. As every knight vowed to support the church, he readily enough became a soldier in those wars which the clergy declared were essential to the well-being of religion. The Holy Land presented a noble field for the display of his virtue: his love of adventures might be gratified by his long and toilsome journey thither; and if the shores of Palestine drank his blood, he gained a crown of martyrdom instead of a victor’s laurel.

The sword of the cavalier was too often drawn by the church; and in the persecution of the Albigenses the knighthood of France forgot all the generous liberality and mercy of their order. But although the crusades against ferocious Turks and erring Christians took from chivalry much of its gracefulness and beauty, yet a restoring power was found in that love for poetry and romance which for some ages had been spreading itself over the world. Human nature, in Europe, appears to have been sunk to the lowest possible degree of depression at the time when the Roman empire was in its last days of decay. We corrupt our admiration of classical ages into a superstitious idolatry, when we affirm that the revival of the energies of the human intellect took place in consequence of the discovery of a few Greek and Latin manuscripts. The storm from the north in earlier times was the greatest moral blessing which mankind had ever known. It swept away those institutions which were no longer sustained by virtue and genius; and the settlement of the Gothic kingdoms was the commencement of the new glories of the world. The successors of the Romans were not entirely occupied in the fierce struggles of ambition. A new intellect was impressed upon Europe, wild as nature before it is tamed into artificial society, but rich, vigorous, and beautiful. As the new states of the West took a firm and enduring shape, as the tendency of human nature to improvement gradually became visible, intellectual talent was more and more esteemed. If in the twelfth century the plains of Europe were covered with armed knights, the castles were filled with poets who sang the joys both of war and love; and although the brave gestes of Charlemagne and his paladins against the Saracens were the theme of many a minstrel’s lay, and tended to promote religious wars, yet the same romantic rhymers described the other duties of the chivalric character, and set knightly gentleness and gallantry at the highest pitch of chivalric virtue. That from their own viciousness, or in base compliance with their lords’ passions, they were often gross in their descriptions and depraved in their morality, are circumstances sufficiently true; but still the general tendency of the poetry and romance of the chivalric ages was to improve the manners of the time. To right the oppressed, to succour woman in distress, formed the burden of many an ancient song; and when chaunted to the minstrel’s harp in a baronial hall, it won the mind of the feudal noble from those deeds of blood which the superstitious declared were the only duties of a knight.

The amusements of chivalry aided romance in sleeking o’er the rugged looks of war; for tournaments became more and more the national amusement as the world escaped from the darkness of barbarism. The crusades closed with the thirteenth century; and in the succeeding age that fine spirit of chivalry, which the expeditions to Palestine had checked, shone with unclouded brilliancy. When the plains of France were one vast tilting ground for the French and English knights, stern fanaticism did not draw the sword. In the crusades, romantic aspirations after woman’s smiles seldom inspired the hero’s chivalry, but in the wars of Edward III. in France, every cavalier fought for the honour of his lady-mistress as well as for the ambition of his King. In those days that great principle of chivalry, the companionship of knights, was fully felt as an influential motive to action. Therefore the cavalier was courteous to his foe: he waited the leisure, and saluted the other, before he placed his spear in its rest: he did not demand of his captive a ransom more heavy than his estate could well furnish; and in no case did he inflict cruelties beyond the necessary pains of war. The display of chivalry was as brilliant as its spirit was noble; and it was a great beauty to behold banners and standards waving in the wind, horses barded, and knights and squires richly armed. But as I collected in a former chapter the most striking circumstances regarding the chivalry of those times, I shall pass on to the next interesting page in knightly story.

It contains the life of a hero, whose chivalric courage materially influenced the fortunes of the French monarchy. He sprung, too, from a country that was full of romantic associations. When the Saxons had achieved the conquest of England, many of the subjugated people crossed the sea to France, and settled in Britanny: so numerous, indeed, was the colony, that the historians of that province people it entirely from England.[140] The ancient language of this island was certainly spoken in Armorica; and all our history and romance were known and cherished there as well and as fondly as in Wales and Cornwall, the other receptacles of oppressed Britons. In after ages both the French and English chevaliers turned their eyes to Brittany with respect and veneration, as the preserver of the fame of Arthur, and of the knights of the Round Table, whose history was a chief source of romantic fiction.

And now, in the fourteenth century, a cavalier appeared who was worthy to have broken a lance with

“Uther’s son,
Begirt with British and Armorick knights!”

Bertrand du Guesclin, a Breton, of gentle rather than noble family, was a knight in whom the love of military glory burnt with a pure and bright flame. He was born at the chateau of De la Motte de Broen, near Rennes, in Brittany, in the year 1320. Nature had so little graced his personal exterior, that even to the partial eye of a mother he seemed rather a clown than a gentleman. Some tinge of melancholy in his nature was mistaken for ill-tempered gloom, and his disposition to taciturnity was fostered by neglect and contempt. He grew rude, violent, and morose; and his parents would not entertain the notion of educating him for knighthood, the wonted distinction of the eldest son of a gentleman. But the disposition of Bertrand’s mind was invincible; and he encouraged it by practising with energy and perseverance all the boyish exercises which were the faithful mirrors of war; he practised them, too, in opposition to the will of his father, who never failed to chastise him when he witnessed any display of his nature’s bent. He appeared as an unknown knight at a tournament at Rennes, and won the palm of victory from a regularly educated cavalier. The path of military glory now lay before him. Soon afterwards he entered the service of Charles of Blois, who knighted him; and he speedily distinguished himself by several chivalric circumstances.

The town of Rennes was blockaded by the Duke of Lancaster with such ability, that a surrender at discretion was looked for by the English. In full confidence of success, Lancaster vowed that he would not quit the place until he was its master. In this embarrassing conjuncture, one of the citizens offered to pass through the camp of the enemy, to deceive the Duke by false intelligence, and, finally, to apprize Charles of Blois of the danger which hung over the place. With great skill and firmness he performed his promise. He repaired to the camp of the Duke, and painted with affected naïveté the distress of the besieged, who founded, he said, their only hope of safety on the succour of a French troop that was expected in two days. The tale was credited; and while the duke, hastily collecting his choicest knights, rode at speed to meet the rescue, the townsman of Rennes, from his simple unwarlike appearance, was allowed at his free will to pass through the camp. At some distance from the English station he encountered Bertrand du Guesclin, and described the position of affairs. In a moment, the valiant Breton knight formed and executed his resolve: he waved his pennon, and many hardy soldiers pressed around him. They dashed into the English camp; and, after displaying the power of their chivalry, they seized large stores of provisions, and proudly marched with them into the famished town of Rennes.

Soon afterwards, the wearied and mortified English returned to their camp. Surprised at the destruction which had been committed in his absence, the Duke enquired the cause; and was told that the name of the knight who had executed so bold a measure was Du Guesclin. Lancaster, like a gallant cavalier, could admire boldness even in a foeman, and he sent a herald into the town requesting that he might behold the man who had so singularly distinguished himself.

Accordingly, on the next morning, Du Guesclin went to the enemy’s camp, his personal safety being secure under the word of English chivalry. He was conducted into the tent of the Duke, who received him with perfect courtesy, which the knight answered, by assuring him, that he was at his command in all things that did not militate against the service of his own chief.

The Duke then demanded the name of his lord, and Du Guesclin replied, Charles of Blois, to whom by right appertained the duchy of Brittany.

An English knight observed, “Messire Bertrand, avant que ce vous dites se termine arrive, il en couterâ cent mille têtes.”

“Eh bien,” answered Du Guesclin, “qu’on en tue tant qu’on voudra, ceux qui demeureront auront la robe des autres.”

This repartee amused the Duke, who, pleased at the martial frankness of Du Guesclin, wished to engage him in his service. But he declined all his offers; and after jousting with a knight who thought little of his valiancy, he returned to Rennes.

The winter approached; a season more terrible to those without than to those within the walls. Du Guesclin repulsed every assault; and Lancaster would have retired, if his honour had not been pledged to take the town. Du Guesclin’s ingenuity assisted him in this exigency. It was agreed that Lancaster should enter Rennes armed, his standards should be planted on the walls, and after this satisfaction of his conscience he should raise the siege. The treaty was faithfully executed. The Duke entered Rennes, remained there some hours, and then quitted it; hardly, however, had he left the gate when the citizens contemptuously cast his standards into the ditch. This indignity wounded him deeply; but being an honourable observer of his word, he would not betray his resentment, or permit his army to avenge this insult to their leader and their nation.[141]

Du Guesclin soon afterwards entered the service of John, King of France, with a considerable band of Breton knights and squires, whom the fame of his chivalry had drawn to his standard. He remained a royal knight till the death of the King in 1364, and then became a soldier of his successor, Charles V. Before the coronation of that monarch, Du Guesclin proved himself worthy of being his cavalier, by a circumstance which entitled him also to national gratitude. The authority of the French, in Normandy, was disputed by some lords of that duchy, who were aided by the English and the Navarrese. The troops of Navarre encountered the French near Cochetel; but instead of maintaining their position on a hill, they descended into the plain, deceived by a feigned retreat of Du Guesclin. Then it was that the Breton ranged his men-at-arms; and their inequality in number to the foe was more than supplied by the reflection with which Du Guesclin animated them, that it behoved the chivalry of France to ornament with laurel the crown of their new sovereign.

Only one circumstance of the battle merits description; and, indeed, it is the only intelligible one in the mêlée of the knights. Thirty Gascon gentlemen had united themselves in strict fraternity of enterprise and peril to take prisoner John de Grailly, the commander of the Navarrese. Accordingly, when the fight began they advanced with serried shields into the thickest of the press. They were beaten back; but they soon renewed the charge, and their prowess at length prevailed: for the Navarrese knights had not formed themselves into a band for the defence of their commander, and his person was therefore imperfectly protected. His capture decided the fate of the day. The battle of Cochetel is remarkable, not only as gracing a new King but as animating the courage of the French, which had been dispirited by repeated defeats during the two preceding reigns.[142]

In the same year Du Guesclin, by permission of his sovereign, aided his former friend, Charles de Blois, in establishing his rights over Brittany. The opponent of Charles was John de Mountfort, and a destructive war had been seemingly closed by the peace of Landes. But the Countess of Penthievre, the wife of Charles, disdained any compromise of her rights, and her tears and reproaches induced him to cancel the treaty. The war was renewed; the English siding with De Mountfort, and the French with Charles. The battle of Auray decided the cause. Charles of Blois was slain; and in his last moments he lamented that his ambition had been fatal to so many brave men. Du Guesclin was made prisoner by a squire of Sir John Chandos, the commander of De Mountfort’s troops[143]: but he scarcely felt the pain of imprisonment, so courteously did the English knight deport himself.

Such was the state of Du Guesclin when Europe once again became a scene of chivalry; and its fortunes were as much influenced by his gallant spirit, as, a few years before, they had been swayed by those knights who had assailed and defended the French crown. The peace of Bretigny had terminated the contest between France and England, and the interesting point of political consideration was Spain. A long course of oppression and tyranny had alienated from Peter, King of Castile, the affections of his people, and stigmatised his name with the epithet, Cruel. His murdering his nobility and his brothers would have passed unnoticed out of Spain; but he imbrued his hands in the blood of his wife, Blanche of Bourbon, and she was sister of the French Queen. The indignation of Charles V. of France was roused at this last crime; and the chivalric gallantry of his court loudly echoed his feelings. An army and a leader both were wanting; for most of the knighthood of France had been slain in the late wars. At that moment Du Guesclin was regarded by the court of France as the great stay of knighthood; and his love of military adventures, and his aspirations for high emprises, seconded the wish of the King, that he would revenge the death of his sister. These military qualities of chivalry formed the character of Du Guesclin; for he who had been rudely stamped by nature, who little regarded lovers’ lays and ladies’ bowers, could scarcely sympathise with the gallantry of the court of France. But for the heroism of Du Guesclin the enterprise would have perished in its bud. France was covered with soldiers, the disbanded mercenaries of the late wars. Charles V. regarded them with suspicious eyes; his power was not adequate to annihilate them, or even to punish them for their violation of his subjects’ peace; and, skilful prince as he was, he made no attempt to remove them peaceably from his states. It was only to a real genius in war that they would submit; and Du Guesclin, above all other men of his age, was capable of guiding their martial energies. The King ransomed him from Chandos for one hundred thousand franks[144], and invested him with the command of the enterprise. Du Guesclin met the mercenaries at the table of carousal, and the occasion of festivity was a favourable one for communicating his scheme. I cannot believe, with some writers, that the unchivalric conduct of Peter stimulated the heroism of these adventures. Among them, indeed, were many soldiers of fortune, generous and noble minded; and such men would sympathise with virtue: but most of them were mere military ruffians, who defied, and were the disgrace of, the law. The promise of two hundred thousand livres from the King of France was the lure for their enterprising themselves, and I need not dwell upon their hope of common military plunder. It is amusing to observe how fondly superstition clings about the heart of man; for these daring marauders declared that they could not cross the Alps till they had received absolution from the Pope for their former sins. Du Guesclin promised to procure it; and then the joyousness of the soldier resumed its ascendancy, and they cried, that they had more confidence in him than in all the bishops of France or at Avignon.

Towards that city of Italian prelates they repaired, after having been admitted into the presence of the French King. They astonished the legate of the terrified Pope by declaring that they wanted absolution, and two hundred thousand livres. With these opposite demands His Holiness prudently complied; and Du Guesclin crossed the Pyrenees, his soldiers being now called the White Companions, from their wearing on their shoulders a white cross, to testify that they had taken up arms only to abolish Judaism, and put down Peter, who was the supposed supporter of it.[145] Du Guesclin was accompanied into Spain by many noble Spaniards, whom the cruelties of Peter had, some while before, banished from their own country. Among them was Henry of Trastamarra, the son of Leonora de Guzman, the mistress of Peter’s father. The hopes of Castile were now directed to Henry; for any defect in the legitimacy of his title was amply supplied by his talents and virtues. Du Guesclin supported the general feeling of the time: he drove the King from the throne, and seated Henry upon it.

The deposed monarch fled to Corunna, embarked, with his three daughters, on board the first ship which the shadow of his former power enabled him to command, and sailed to Bayonne. He knew that the Black Prince was in Bourdeaux, and he hastened to lay before him his wrongs. Edward, hearing of his purpose, and resolving to do him honour, issued out of the city, accompanied by divers knights and squires, and went and met the King, and did him great reverence, both in word and deed. After the Prince had well feasted him, they rode together to Bourdeaux, Edward, like a courteous knight, giving his friend the right, or side of honour. When they reached the city, the King was conducted to a fair chamber, ready apparelled for him; and, after changing his soiled dress for a robe of splendour, he went to the Princess and the ladies, who received him right courteously.[146]

But few entreaties were necessary, before Edward promised the best exertions of his chivalry to restore him to his throne. The rights of legitimacy were his pretext; for he said that “it was not fit a bastard should hold a realm in heritage, and put his brother, the rightful inheritor of the land, out of his own realm; the which things all kings and kings’ sons should in nowise suffer, nor consent to, for it was a great prejudice against the state royal.” The Prince, as Froissart says, was then in the lusty flower of his youth; and he was never weary nor well satisfied with war, since the first beginning that he bore arms, but ever intended to achieve high deeds of chivalry.[147] “The people of Spain,” observes Froissart in another place, “had great marvel of the Prince’s intention, and there was much communing thereof. Some said the Prince took on him the enterprise for pride and presumption, and was, in a manner, angry of the honour that Sir Bertrand of Du Guesclin had gotten, in conquering of the realm of Castile, in the name of King Henry, who was by him made king.”[148] And if the principles of human nature and chivalry should still leave any doubt on our minds regarding Edward’s motives, his treatment of Du Guesclin, when the noble Breton became his prisoner, would remove any obscurity.

His council in vain endeavoured to dissuade him from his purpose, though these good and sage imaginative lords pleaded well the cause of justice. “Sir,” they said, “ye have heard it observed, divers times, he that embraceth too much holdeth the weaklier. It is for a truth that ye are one of the Princes of the world most praised, honoured, and redoubted, and hold on this side of the sea great lands and seigniories, thanked be God, in good rest and peace. There is no king, near nor far, who at this time dares to displease you; so renowned are you of good chivalry, grace, and good fortune. You ought, therefore, by reason, to be content with what you have, and seek not to get any enemies. Sir, we say not this for evil. We know well that the King, Don Peter of Castile, who is now driven out of his realm, is a man of high mind, right cruel, and full of evil conditions; for by him have been done many evil deeds in the realm of Castile; and he hath caused many a valiant man to lose his head, and brought cruelly to an end, without any manner of reason; and so by his villain deeds he is now put out of his realm: and also, besides all this, he is enemy to the church, and cursed by our holy father, the Pope. He is reputed, and hath been a great season, a tyrant; and, without tittle of reason, hath always grieved and made war with his neighbours, the King of Arragon and the King of Navarre, and would have disinherited them by puissance; and also, as the bruit runneth throughout his realm, how he causeth to die his wife, your cousin, daughter to the Duke of Bourbon. Wherefore, Sir, you ought to think and consider that all this that he now suffers are rods and strokes of God sent to chastise him, and to give example to all other Christian kings and princes, to beware that they do not as he hath done.”

Such were the counsels of the Gascon and English knights who attended Edward; but his resolution was formed, and he prepared for war. He drew from the White Companies those of his valiant liegemen, who, for want of other chevisance, had joined Du Guesclin; and, in England, when his purpose was bruited, all the youthful chivalry was on fire to join the hero of Cressy and Poictiers.

He commenced his march with thirty thousand soldiers. It was winter when they passed through the valley of Roncesvalles; and, while the snow drove in their faces, they cheered their spirits by singing the songs in which the minstrel-muse had celebrated the deeds of Charlemagne’s paladins. At Pampeluna their distressful march was relieved by the King of Navarre, whose aid they had purchased; and the Prince of Wales proceeded to Castile. The battle of Navaret decided the contest. The common people of Spain, who composed the first ranks of Henry, fought so bravely with their slings, that the Englishmen were sorely troubled; but Edward’s archers drew their bows right yeomanly, and soon checked their fury. Henry had on his side more than a hundred thousand men in harness, from Castile, Portugal, and other states; and well and chivalrously did they sustain his cause. The better-appointed force of Edward gradually prevailed, though King Henry’s troops fought to the bravest point; for, as they had placed him on the throne, they felt their honour engaged to fight for him to the utterance. The battle, in all its press and din, was fought between the troops of Du Guesclin and those of Sir John Chandos. The noble Breton was taken prisoner, and the English remained masters of the field. Don Pedro was restored to his throne, and Edward somewhat redeemed his previous conduct, by inducing the King to grant a general pardon and amnesty. The ingratitude of Pedro was the consequence of the Black Prince’s exertions in his favour; and I need not dwell upon such a natural circumstance.[149]

To furnish his troops with those arrears of pay which Peter should have satisfied, Edward was obliged to tax the possessions of the English in France. Between the people of England and the French there had been long-enduring jealousies: there was no community of ideas and manners between them; and the principle of obedience more naturally rested on a French than on an English sovereign. The demeanour of the Black Prince was not that of a courteous and gentle knight: his haughtiness lost him many friends; and his impolicy of giving all the offices of state in Gascony and Acquitain to Englishmen was bitterly complained of, and resented by the lords of those countries, who had perilled themselves, to the loss of their estates, in his cause.

On the other hand, the English were not backward in reproaching the Gascons. Certain knights of England once told the Black Prince, that he little knew the mind of these people, nor how proud they were. “They do not love us, and never did,” continued these counsellors. “Sir, remember ye not how highly and greatly they bore themselves against you in the city of Bourdeaux, when King John of France was first carried thither? They said then, and maintained plainly, that by them only ye attained to achieve the taking of the King; and that right well appeared, for you were in great treaty with them for the space of four months, ere they would consent that the French king; should be carried into England. First, it behoved you to satisfy their minds, to keep them in love.”[150] Edward’s attempt at taxation exasperated the angry feelings of his subjects, and was the great and immediate cause of their revolt to the French King.