Cressy and Poictiers

"My lord," said I, not without scorn of the thought of being suspected, "it has come to my knowledge that I have, in my absence, been accused of conspiring with the enemies of England. I am here to deny the charge, and to demand to be placed face to face with my accuser."

The prince did not answer even a word; but he ordered Lord De Ov to be summoned; and when my adversary appeared, which he did almost on the instant, I felt, with something like exultation, that at length there was a prospect of our quarrel being brought to a decisive issue, and that, with a just cause, I could not fail to conquer.

The prince, meanwhile, turned to me, and, with the frown still on his brow, said gravely —

"There stands your accuser."

And now I cannot relate what passed; but a furious dispute, which the presence of the prince scarcely served to moderate, certainly did take place; and I recited all the hostility Lord De Ov had evinced towards me, and the persecution to which I had been exposed at his hands, not forgetting the incident of Caen, on which I was loud, if not eloquent. But I did not stop even at this point. I traced the enmity to its origin. Vehemently I narrated all the wrongs which my father had suffered, and which I had vowed to avenge, and astounded the prince by stating in a voice of thunder, that this man, who now laboured to ruin my fair fame, bore the name and occupied the place which were mine by hereditary right. At length matters reached such a stage that I threw down my glove, and appealed to the god of battles; and Lord De Ov expressed his willingness to submit the quarrel to the arbitrament of the sword.

But for a time there appeared, notwithstanding my entreaties, some doubt whether a combat would be permitted under the circumstances. In fact, the prince, who was perplexed by the turn which the quarrel had taken, entertained serious scruples. Fortunately, however, he consulted his guest, the Count of Foix; and Gaston Phæbus, who enjoyed a high reputation for wisdom, after some meditation, decided in favour of allowing the duel.

"In truth," said he, "I think that this is a case in which an appeal to the god of battles ought to be permitted; for it is a case which no man, without great discretion and knowledge, could undertake to decide, one way or another; and at all times, the judgment of God is more likely to be just than the judgment of the very justest man."

"In the name of truth and justice," exclaimed the prince, "let the combat, then, take place; and may God and St. George defend the right!"

"Yes," replied the count; "it is decidedly a quarrel which can best be decided by a duel for death or life."

Accordingly, everything was settled; and, Monday being fixed on as the day for the mortal combat, the accuser and the accused were placed under arrest till the time appointed, and preliminaries were arranged for the trial by battle.

CHAPTER LXXIV

TRIAL BY BATTLE

I have said that it was the month of May, and the grass was green in the meads, the corn in ear, and the flowers in seed, when arrangements were made for the combat, which the Count of Foix had approved, and which the Prince of Wales had sanctioned; and, in a wide open space on the banks of the Garonne, the lists were erected and preparations made; and galleries were raised on one side for such lords as wished to be spectators; and, on the appointed day, the barons of Gascony and England and the citizens of Bordeaux came forth to witness a spectacle which promised much excitement.

It would hardly become me to relate my own exploits on such an occasion, even if my feelings had been such as to admit of my remembering distinctly what passed. But the truth is, that, calm as I might have seemed to observers, my anxiety was intense, and I scarce saw, scarce heard, anything around me, so completely was my mind bent and my attention concentrated on the coming conflict. I therefore deem it prudent to borrow an account of the duel from a chronicler who witnessed it without favour, and who described it with impartiality.

"At the hour appointed, Sir Arthur Winram and Roger, Lord De Ov, the two knights who were to perform this deed of arms, rode to where the tilts were to be performed, and entered the lists so well armed and equipped that nothing was wanting. Their spears and battle-axes were brought to them, and each being mounted on the best of horses, placed himself about a bow-shot from his antagonist; and they pranced about most gallantly, for they knew that every eye was upon them.

"Having braced their targets, and examined each other through the visors of their helmets, they spurred on their horses, spear in hand; and though they allowed their horses to gallop as they pleased, they advanced in as straight a line as if it had been drawn with a cord, and hit each other on the visors with such skill and force that all present allowed it was gallantly done. Lord De Ov's lance was shivered into four pieces, which flew to a greater height than they could have been thrown. Sir Arthur Winram likewise struck his antagonist, but not with the same success; and I will tell you why. It was because Lord De Ov had but slightly laced on his helmet, so that it was only held by one thong, which snapped at a blow, leaving him bareheaded.

"Each knight passed the other; and Sir Arthur Winram bore his lance without halting; and they returned to their stations, when Lord De Ov's helmet was fitted on again, and another lance given to him, while Sir Arthur grasped his own, which was not worsted. When ready, they set off full gallop (for excellent were their horses, and well did they know how to manage them), and again struck each other on the helmets, so that sparks of fire came out from them. Neither of their lances did this time break, and Sir Arthur received a very severe blow: and his lance hit the visor of his adversary without much effect, passing through and leaving it on the crupper of the horse, and Lord De Ov was once more bareheaded.

"After this tilting, the knights dismounted, and made ready to continue the combat with swords; and they made a very handsome appearance, for they were both stout and expert men at arms. Fighting on foot, they behaved with much courage. Sir Arthur Winram was, at the first, severely wounded, and his friends were much alarmed; but, notwithstanding this disadvantage, he fought so stubbornly that he struck down his adversary, and was on the point of thrusting his sword through his body, when the prince threw down his warder, and shouted, 'Hold! slay him not, unshriven and unabsolved. He is fairly vanquished.' Then Sir Arthur demanded of the spectators if he had done his duty; and when they replied that he had, the knight approached the prince, and after thanking him and the lords present for coming to see justice done, went, albeit sore wounded, to make his offering in the Church of St. Andrew."

I need not particularly narrate the events which followed this combat for life or death; how, in a few days after it was fought, the prince was convinced, by evidence which could not be doubted, that the plot in which I was accused of participating had no existence; and how King Edward, on hearing of everything connected with the business, swore that, come what might, justice should be done me, and that speedily. Ere the close of June my adversary had left Bordeaux for England, and so had I. But he returned to his native land to take the habit of a monk in a religious house which his ancestors had endowed; I to assume the name which I had received at the baptismal font, and, as son of Edward, Lord De Ov, to take possession of the castle and baronies in which, since the Norman Conquest, the chiefs of the house of De Ov had maintained feudal state.

CHAPTER LXXV

GLORY AND THE GRAVE

I had been some time in England when the Prince of Wales achieved the last of the great triumphs which enshrined his name in imperishable glory; and Englishmen learned with pride that, on the south of the Ebro, the heir of England had, against great odds, fought a great battle, and won a great victory, to decide the fate of Castille and Leon.

It was some time after I left the city of Bordeaux that a guest, whose appearance created much interest, and excited much curiosity, arrived at the court of Guienne, and, being in extreme perplexity, demanded the aid of the Prince of Wales. Already he was becoming known as Peter the Cruel. A few weeks earlier he had been King of Castille. But his bloodthirstiness and tyranny had disgusted his subjects; and his illegitimate brother, Henry of Trastamare, with the aid of Bertrand du Guesclin and the French, had found it no difficult matter to drive him from a kingdom where his unpopularity was so great. Exile, however, as Don Pedro was, he did not despair; for he knew that the Prince of Wales was at once the most chivalrous and most skilful warrior of the age, and he hoped to persuade the young hero to espouse his cause, to trample Henry of Trastamare and Du Guesclin in the dust, and to re-seat him on the throne from which he had been driven.

It speedily appeared that Don Pedro had rightly calculated his chances. Indeed, the prince, moved by generosity and compassion, became quite enthusiastic in his cause, and eager to aid him to the utmost. Nor was he without the power of so doing; for the country at that time was overrun with the "free companies," ever ready to hire their swords for pay; and Pedro promised, on his word as a king, that, in the event of being restored to his rights, money should be forthcoming to satisfy all demands. Nothing, indeed, could be more magnificent than his promises. It really seemed that every soldier who fought for him was certain to make a fortune, and might indulge in visions of boundless wealth. Not doubting the royal exile's good faith, the prince, after holding many councils, resolved to raise an army and march into Spain as Pedro's champion.

It must be admitted that the enthusiasm of the prince was not shared by all around him; and the Princess of Wales was one of those who entertained grave doubts as to the policy of the expedition. When tidings that the prince had finally decided on marching to restore Pedro was conveyed to her while at her toilette, she expressed herself strongly.

"I grieve to hear," said she, "that my husband has allowed himself to be imposed on by a man so criminal and so cruel."

"Ha!" exclaimed the prince, when her words were reported to him, "I see she wants me to be always at her side; but, by St. George," added he, "say what they may, I am determined to restore Castille to its rightful inheritor."

In fact, the die was cast; and the prince, having assembled an army of thirty thousand men, marched for Spain, and, having crossed the Ebro, came up with the foe between Navarretta and Najara.

Henry of Trastamare and Bertrand du Guesclin were not, however, warriors to yield without a struggle; and, to meet the crisis, they mustered an army of a hundred thousand men, and prepared to encounter the conqueror of Cressy and Poictiers in close conflict. Accordingly, on Saturday, the 3rd of April, 1367, the two armies met at Navarretta, and fought a severe battle. But nothing could withstand the Prince of Wales; and that day he well maintained the character he had won as a war-chief, and gained so complete a victory that, seeing their men scattered in all directions, Henry of Trastamare fled to France, and Bertrand du Guesclin surrendered himself prisoner to Sir John Chandos.

When the news spread over Europe that Don Pedro was restored to his throne by the arms of the heir of England, the French dreaded the prince more than ever; and high was the admiration which the tidings of his exploit created, especially in England, Flanders, and Germany, and even among the Saracens. But, while Christendom was ringing with his name, and sovereigns were bowing at the mention of it, and while the citizens of London were celebrating his victory with solemn shows, and triumphs, and feasts, the Prince of Wales was in melancholy mood. Already he discovered the truth of the words spoken by the princess. He had been grossly deluded by the miscreant whom he had befriended.

Never, indeed, was a champion more ungratefully treated by the man for whom he had conquered. No sooner was Pedro restored to his kingdom by the prince's victory at Navarretta, than he forgot all his promises as to paying the "free companies," and the prince, after waiting for a time in the expectation of justice, in a climate that was proving most injurious to his health, lost all opinion of Pedro's good faith, and, returning to Bordeaux, burdened with debt, endeavoured to raise the money to defray the cost of his expedition by the hearth-tax. Much discontent was the consequence. Indeed, the Gascons declared that they had always been exempt from taxation, and appealed to the King of France as sovereign of Guienne.

By this time John of Valois was dead, and Charles, John's eldest son, occupied the throne of France; and though, by the treaty of Bretigny, the provinces of Guienne and Languedoc had been conveyed in full sovereignty to England, Charles not only responded to the appeal of the Gascons, but resolved on citing the Prince of Wales, as his subject, before the Chamber of Peers.

Accordingly, Charles of Valois despatched a knight and a lawyer to Bordeaux, and, on being admitted to an audience, they proceeded to read the letter with which they had been intrusted, summoning the heir of England to appear without delay at Paris. The prince listened, eyed the Frenchmen, and shook his head.

"Well," said he in reply, "I will willingly attend on the appointed day at Paris; but, by St. George, it will be with my helmet on my head, and with sixty thousand men at my back!"

Much alarmed was Charles of Valois on learning how the Prince of Wales had treated his summons, and how, in spite of his malady, he had put on his armour, mounted his horse, and displayed his banner. But it soon appeared that he was no longer himself – that he was not the Edward of Cressy, or Poictiers, or Navarretta; and when the campaign terminated, and he returned to Bordeaux, such was his languor that the physicians counselled him to repair to England.

Agreeably to the advice of his physicians, the Prince of Wales, with the princess, and their infant son Richard, embarked at Bordeaux, and, having landed at Southampton, took up their residence at Berkhamstead. But the prince, though he recovered sufficiently to take a part in public affairs, never regained his strength; and it was suspected that he had been poisoned in Spain. At length, on Trinity Sunday, 1376, after languishing for years, he expired at the palace of Westminster.

Great was the grief, loud the lamentation, caused by the news that the hero of England had departed this life; and in celebrating his obsequies no ceremony was omitted that could do honour to his memory. Canterbury having been selected as the religious edifice where his bones were to rest, great preparations were made for his burial, and when the appointed time arrived, a stately hearse, drawn by twelve horses, conveyed the corpse from Westminster; and, with great pomp, the remains of him who had been the pride of England and the terror of France were laid in the south side of the cathedral, hard by the shrine of Thomas à Becket.

And so, mourned by the nation to whose grandeur he had so mightily contributed, Edward, Prince of Wales and Duke of Guienne, the flower of English knighthood, passed from glory to the grave, at a time when his father was on the verge of the tomb, and when his own son was scarcely out of the cradle. But it is not within my province to speak now of the dead hero's dying father, or of the prince's ill-fated son. My tale is told. With the death of the conqueror of Cressy and Poictiers ends "The Story of the Black Prince's Page."