The Black Prince had sailed from Plymouth on September 8th, 1355, with a large band of nobles. He was received at Bordeaux with great joy by all the nobles of the country. The Gascon lords were eager to fight under the banner of so brave a prince, and to distinguish themselves by feats of arms. They had long been annoyed by the inroads of the French, and they now begged the prince to lead them on a foraging expedition into France. They formed no plan for a campaign. The expedition was simply undertaken from love of plunder, and of fighting for its own sake. The Prince had the absolute command, and had been appointed the king's lieutenant in Aquitaine. The expedition which he now undertook shows us the dark side of chivalry. We see him and his young knights, in wanton love of adventure, spreading ruin and destruction over the fairest provinces of France. On leaving Bordeaux he divided his army into several "battles." These were to march at some Laden with booty, he and his knights returned to Bordeaux. Here the Gascon soldiers were dis It was not till the middle of the following summer that the Black Prince gathered his men together to start on a second campaign. He left Bordeaux on the 8th July with only a small force—2,000 men-at-arms and 6,000 archers—partly Gascons and partly English. His object was to make another foraging expedition, and, if possible, proceed onwards to join his cousin the Duke of Lancaster in Normandy. He went through Auvergne northward as far as Berry. Froissart tells us that they found the province of Auvergne very rich, and all things in great abundance. They burnt and destroyed all the country they passed through, and when they entered any town which was well provisioned, they rested there some days to refresh themselves, and on leaving destroyed what remained, staving the heads of wine casks and burning the wheat and oats, so that their enemies should not save anything. Everywhere they found plenty as they advanced, for the country was very rich and full of forage for men-at-arms. At Vierzon, a town in Berry, they learnt that the King of France was at Chartres with a large army, and that all the passes and towns on the Loire were secured and so well guarded that no one could cross the river. The Prince then held a council with his knights, and they resolved to return to Bordeaux through Touraine and Poitou, destroying all the country on their way. Near Romorantin some of the Prince's men had a skirmish with some French soldiers, whom they routed. The castle of Romorantin refused to yield to the Prince. As he was assailing it one of his squires was killed at his side by a stone thrown from the castle. The Prince was so furious that he swore he would not leave that place till he had the castle and all in it in his power. Cannons were brought forward, and Greek-fire was shot upon the town, till a large tower of the castle, covered with thatch, caught fire and was all in a blaze. Then the garrison had to yield; but the Prince treated them nobly, and set many knights and squires at liberty, whilst he made the lords, who had commanded the castle, ride by his side and attend him as his prisoners. When the King of France heard that the Prince was hastening back to Bordeaux, he determined to pursue him, thinking that he could not escape. He left Chartres, and marched south, to intercept him on his way back. John was marching almost in a direct line south, whilst the Black Prince was marching from Romorantin in a south- King John sent Sir Eustace de Ribeaumont to reconnoitre the English. He brought back an account of the way in which they were posted, which has been preserved to us. There were 2,000 men-at-arms, 6,000 archers, and about 1,000 camp followers quartered on a small hill which did not contain 2,000 square feet of ground. This hill was surrounded by very thick hedges, and was divided in the middle by a road, a little crooked and so narrow that hardly three men could go up it abreast. The road was covered on both sides with high hedges, behind which were encamped the archers, who were still at work making a new ditch. At the end of these hedges were the men-at-arms on foot, each holding his horse by his bridle; they were standing On Sunday morning, September 18, King John was ready and impatient for the attack. He ordered a solemn mass to be sung in his tent, and he and his four sons partook of the communion. After some debate with his chief nobles, it was ordered that the whole army should push into the plain, and that each lord should display his banner, and advance in the name of God and St. Denis. The trumpets sounded, and every one mounted his horse, and made for that part of the plain where the King's banner was planted and fluttering in the wind. "There," says Froissart, "might be seen all the nobility of France, richly dressed in brilliant armour, with banners and pennons gallantly displayed; for all the flower of the French nobility was there: no knight nor squire, for fear of dishonour, dared to remain at home." And all this mighty force was going to attack a small body of 8,000 men, mostly simple archers, men of the people, standing at bay amidst the hedges and vineyards on the little hill. When the French were on the point of marching against their enemies, the Cardinal of Perigord, who had left Poitiers that morning early, came at full gallop to the King, and making a deep reverence, begged him for the love of God to stay a minute. "Most dear sire," he said, with uplifted hands, "you have here all the flower of knighthood of your kingdom against a handful of people such as the English are. You may have them upon other terms than by a battle. I All Sunday the Cardinal rode from one army to another, and did his utmost to bring about a peaceful agreement. But the King of France would listen to nothing unless the Prince of Wales and one hundred of his knights surrendered themselves prisoners. To these terms the Prince could not be expected to consent. On Monday morning the French almost angrily bade the Cardinal begone and trouble them no more with his entreaties. Then he went to the Prince of Wales, and said, "Fair son, exert yourself as much as possible, for there must be a battle." The Prince replied that such were his intentions, and those of his army, "and God defend the right." On the Sunday had been spent by the Prince's men in making many mounds and ditches round the ground where the archers stood, to secure their position. They were much straitened for want of provisions, as they could not without danger move from their place to seek them. The French, on the other hand, were well supplied, and spent the day in the midst of plenty. When the Prince saw on Monday morning that the battle was inevitable, and knew with what contempt the French regarded him and his men, he spoke thus to his army: "Now, my gallant fellows, what though we be a small body when compared to the army of our enemies, do not let us be cast down on that account, for victory does not always follow numbers, but where the Almighty God pleases to bestow it. If through good fortune the day shall be ours, we shall gain the greatest honour and glory in this world; if the contrary should happen, and we be slain, I have a father and beloved brethren alive, and you all have some relations or good friends, who will be sure to revenge our deaths. I therefore beg you exert yourselves and fight manfully, for if it please God and St. George you shall see me this day act like a true knight." With these and other words the Prince and his marshals encouraged the men, so that they were all in high spirits. Then the Prince retired a little way apart, and kneeling down, prayed, "Father Almighty, as I have ever believed that Thou art King over all kings, and that for us upon the cross Thou wert content to suffer death to save us from the pains of hell; Father, who art very God and very man, be pleased for Thy holy name to guard me and my people from ill, even as, O heavenly Father, Thou knowest that I have good cause." Then he was ready to fight. Sir John Chandos placed himself near the Prince to guard and advise him, and never during that day would he on any account quit his post. As the battle was about to begin, Sir James Audley came to the Prince, and told him that he had made a vow, that if ever he should be engaged in any battle where the King or any of his sons were, he would be foremost in the attack, and the best combatant on their side, or die in the attempt. Now he begged permission to leave the Prince's side, and perform his vow. The Prince consented; and holding out his hand to him, said, "Sir James, God grant that this day you may shine in valour above all other knights." Sir James then proceeded to the front, attended only by four squires. He was a prudent and a valiant knight, and the order in which the army had been arranged was owing in great part to his advice. The French now began to advance. Before reaching the battalion of the Prince they must The first battalion of the French was completely routed; for the English men-at-arms rushed in upon them as they were struck down by the archers, and seized and slew them at their pleasure. As this French battalion fell back, it prevented the main body of the army from advancing. The next battalion was commanded Little by little the English men-at-arms advanced under cover of the shower of arrows sent by their archers. When they saw the first French battalion beaten, and the second in disorder, they mounted their horses, which they held by their bridles, and raised a shout of "St. George for Guienne." Sir John Chandos said to the Prince, "Sir, now push forward; for the day is ours. God will this day put it in your hand. Let us make for the King of France. Where he is will lie the main stress of the business. His valour will not let him fly. He will be ours, if it please God and St. George; but he must be well fought with. You have before said that you will show yourself this day a good knight." The Prince answered, "John, get forward; you shall not see me turn my back this day; for I will always be among the foremost." As they advanced the battle grew very hot, and was greatly crowded. Many a one was unhorsed. The battalion of the Duke of Normandy, on seeing the Prince's approach, hastened their flight. The King John proved himself a good knight; if the fourth of his people had behaved as well, the day would have been his own. Round him his knights too fought with great courage. Many were slain at his side, and others were obliged to yield themselves prisoners. The King himself was twice wounded in the face, but still fought bravely on. Many of the English who knew him pressed round in eagerness to take him, crying out, "Surrender yourself, or you are a dead man." He was getting very roughly treated, when a young knight, called Denys Morbeque, forced his way through the medley, and bade the King surrender to him. Then the King turned to him, and said, "To whom shall I surrender myself? Where is my cousin, Meanwhile the Prince of Wales had been fighting with the courage of a lion. Sir John Chandos, who had never left his side, now said to him, "Sir, it will be right for you to halt here, and plant your banner on the top of this bush, that you may rally your scattered forces. I do not see any banners or pennons of the French. They cannot rally again, and you must refresh yourself a little, as you are very much heated." Then the banner of the Prince was placed on a high bush. The minstrels began to play, and the trumpets and clarions to sound. The Prince took off his helmet to cool himself, and his attendants soon pitched a small pavilion of crimson cloth, into which he entered. Wine was given him and his knights to drink. Every minute fresh knights kept arriving. They were returning from the pursuit, which was carried even to the gates of Poitiers, and now stopped with their prisoners at the Prince's tent. The Prince asked eagerly for news of the King of France. None had seen him leave his battalion; he must be either killed or a prisoner. Immediately the Prince ordered two of his barons, the Earl of Warwick and Lord Cobham, to ride off and learn what they could The battle had begun at nine in the morning, and was over at noon. But not till dusk did the English return from the pursuit of their enemies. So great was the number of prisoners, that the English feared that it might be difficult to keep them all, and thought it wiser to ransom a great part of them on the spot. Such was the confidence inspired by chivalry in a man's word, that many were released on their promise of coming to Bordeaux before Christmas to pay their ransom. No fewer than seventeen counts were among the prisoners, and six thousand men lay dead upon the field. The English encamped that night on the battle-field amidst the dead. Many of them had hardly tasted bread for three days. Now they had That evening the Prince of Wales gave a supper in his pavilion to the King of France. The food served had all been taken from the French, as the English had nothing. The French King, with his son and his principal barons, was seated at the chief table, and was waited upon by the Prince himself, who showed every mark of humility. He would not sit down at the table, though pressed to do so, but said that he was not worthy of so great an honour; nor did it become him to seat himself at the table of so great a King, or of so valiant a man as he had shown himself by his actions that day. He did his utmost to cheer the King, saying, "Dear sir, do not make a poor meal because the Almighty God has not gratified your wishes in the event of this day. Be assured that my father will show you every honour and friendship in his power, and will arrange your ransom so reasonably that you will henceforward always remain friends. In my opinion, you have cause to be glad that the success of this battle did not turn out as you desired; for you have this day acquired such high renown for prowess, that you have surpassed all the best knights on your side. I do not say this, After supper the English repaired to their several tents, each taking with him the knights or squires he had captured. They soon came to agreement about ransoms, as the English lords were not greedy in their demands, and asked no more than each man declared he could pay. The next morning they rose early and heard mass. After breakfast, whilst the servants packed up the baggage, their lords decamped, and the army began its march to Bordeaux. The Minorites of the convent of Poitiers took upon themselves the melancholy task of burying the dead. The bodies were carried in carts, and buried in large graves in their churchyard. Funeral masses were sung in all the churches and convents of the town of Poitiers, at the cost of the good citizens of the town. So was fought the great battle of Poitiers, a signal instance of what a small force can do when skilfully posted and fighting for its life. The French army failed through their excess of confidence in their proud strength. The first rebuff Bravest, and at the same time most modest, of all the knights was the Prince himself. Two letters are still preserved in which he gives an account of the battle, one to the Bishop of Worcester, and one to the city of London. In each he tells the simplest story of his victory, taking no credit to himself. In his letter to the city of London, after describing the events which led up to the battle of Poitiers, he says, "For default of victuals, as well as for other reasons, it was agreed that we should take our way, flanking them in such manner, that if they wished for battle, or to draw towards us in a place that was not very much to our disadvantage, we should be the first; and so forthwith it was |