 CHAPTER XX. THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR. CHAPTER VI. We have just been spectators at the labour of formation of the French kingship and the French nation. We have seen monarchical unity and national unity rising, little by little, out of and above the feudal system, which had been the first result of barbarians settling upon the ruins of the Roman Empire. In the fourteenth century, a new and vital question arose. Will the French dominion preserve its nationality? Will the kingship remain French or pass to the foreigner? This question brought ravages upon France, and kept her fortunes in suspense for a hundred years of war with England, from the reign of Philip of Valois to that of Charles VII, and a young girl of Lorraine, called Joan of Arc, had the glory of communicating to France that decisive impulse which brought to a triumphant issue the independence of the French nation and kingship. As we have seen in the preceding chapter, the elevation of Philip of Valois to the throne, as representative of the male line amongst the descendants of Hugh Capet, took place of virtue, not of any old written law, but of a traditional right, recognised and confirmed by two recent resolutions taken at the death of the two eldest sons of Philip the handsome. The right thus promulgated became at once a fact accepted by the whole of France. Philip of Valois had for a rival none but a foreign prince, and there was no mind in France, say contemporary chroniclers, to be subjects of the King of England. Some weeks after his accession, on the 29th of May, 1328, Philip was crowned at Rem, in presence of a brilliant assemblage of princes and lords, French and foreign, and next year, on the 6th of June, Edward III, King of England, being summoned to fulfil a vassal's duties by doing homage to the King of France for the Duchy of Aquitaine, which he held, appeared in the Cathedral of Amiens, with his crown on his head, his sword at his side, and his gilded spurs on his heels. When he drew near to the throne the Viscount de Mellon, King's Chamberlain, invited him to lay aside his crown, his sword and his spurs, and to go down on his knees before Philip. Not without a murmur, Edward obeyed, but when the Chamberlain said to him, Sir, you, as Duke of Aquitaine, became legemen of my lord the king who is here, and do promise to keep towards him faith and loyalty, Edward protested, saying that he owed only simple homage, and not lege homage, a closer bond, imposing on the vassal a more stringent obligation, to serve and defend his suzerain against every enemy whatsoever. Cousin, said Philip to him, we would not deceive you, and what you have now done contenteth us well until you have returned to your own country, and seen from the acts of your predecessors what you ought to do. Grammarcy, dear Sir, answered the King of England, and with the reservation he had just made, and which was added to the formula of homage, he placed his hands between the hands of the King of France, who kissed him on the mouth, and accepted his homage, confiding in Edward's promise to certify himself by reference to the archives of England of the extent to which his ancestors had been bound. This certification took place on the thirtieth of March 1331, about two years after his visit to Amiens. Edward III recognized, by letters expressed, the said homage which we did at Amiens to the King of France in general terms, is and must be understood as lege, and that we are bound, as Duke of Aquitaine and Pierre of France, to show him faith and loyalty. The relations between the two kings were not destined to be for long so courteous and so pacific. Even before the question of the secession to the throne of France arose between them, they had adopted contrary policies. When Philip was crowned at Rennes, Louis de Niver, Count of Flanders, repaired thither with the following of eighty-six knights, and he it was to whom the right belonged of carrying the sword of the kingdom. The heralds at arms repeated three times, Count of Flanders, if you are here come and do your duty. He made no answer. The king was astounded and bad him explain himself. My lord, answered the Count, may it please you not to be astounded. They called the Count of Flanders, and not Louis de Niver. What then, replied the king, are you not the Count of Flanders? It is true, sir, rejoined the other, that I bear the name, but I do not possess the authority. The burgers of Bruges, Ypres, and Castle have driven me from my land, and their scarce remains but the town of Ghent where I dare show myself. Fair cousin, said Philip, we will swear by you by the holy oil which hath this day trickled over our brow, that we will not enter Paris again before seeing you reinstated in peaceable possession of the Countship of Flanders. Some of the French barons who happened to be present, represented to the king that the Flemish burgers were powerful, that autumn was a bad season for a war in their country, and that Louis the quarrelor, in 1315, had been obliged to come to a standstill in a similar expedition. Philip consulted his constable, Walter de Chatillon, who had served the kings his predecessors in their wars against Flanders. Whoso hath good stomach for fight? answered the constable, findeth all time seasonable. Well then, said the king, embracing him, whoso loveth me will follow me? The war thus resolved upon was forthwith begun. Philip, on arriving with his army before Castle, found the place defended by sixteen thousand Flemings under the command of Nicholas Zaniquin, the richest of the burgers of Furnace, and already renowned for a zeal in the insurrection against the Count. For several days the French remained inactive around the mountain on which Castle is built, and which the knights, mounted on ironclad horses, were unable to scale. The Flemings had planted on a tower of Castle a flag carrying a cock, with this inscription. When the cock that is hereon shall crow, the Foundling King herein shall go. They called Philip the Foundling King because he had no business to expect to be king. Philip in his wrath gave up to fire and pillage the outskirts of the place. The Flemings marshaled at the top of the mountain made no movement. On the twenty-fourth of August, thirteen twenty-eight, about three in the afternoon, the French knights had disarmed. Some were playing at chests, others strolled about from tent to tent in their fine robes in search of amusement, and the king was asleep in his tent after a long corouse, when all on a sudden his confessor, a Dominican friar, shouted out that the Flemings were attacking the camp. Zaniquin indeed came out full softly and without a bit of noise, says Frosart, with his troops in three divisions, to surprise the French camp at three points. He was quite close to the king's tent, and some chroniclers say that he was already lifting his mace over the head of Philip, who had armed in hot haste, and was defended only by a few knights, one of whom was waving the aura-flam around him, when others hurried up, and Zaniquin was forced to stay his hand. At two other points of the camp the attack had failed. The French gathered about the king and the Flemings about Zaniquin, and there took place so stubborn a fight that of sixteen thousand Flemings who were there not one recoiled, says Frosart, and all were left there dead and slain in three heaps one upon the other, without budging from the spot where the battle had begun. The same evening Philip entered castle, which he set on fire, and in a few days afterwards, on leaving for France, he said to Count Louis, before the French barons, Count, I have worked for you at my own in my baron's expense. I give you back your land, recovered and in peace. So take care that justice be kept up in it, and that I have not, through your fault, to return, for if I do it will be to my own profit and to your hurt. The Count of Flanders was far from following the advice of the King of France, and the King of France was far from foreseeing whether he would be led by the road upon which he had just set foot. It has already been pointed out to what a position of wealth, population and power, industrial and commercial activity had in the thirteenth century raised the towns of Flanders, Bruges, Ghent, Lille, Ypres, Fumaise, Poitré and Douay, and with what energy they had defended against their lords, their prosperity and their liberties. It was the struggle, sometimes sullen, sometimes violent, of feudal lordship against municipal burglardom. The able and imperious Philip the Hensom had tested the strength of the Flemish cities, and had not cared to push them to remedy. When in thirteen twenty-two Count Louis de Nevers, scarcely eighteen years of age, inherited from his grandfather Robert the Third the Countship of Flanders, he gave himself up, in respect of the majority of towns in the Countship, to the same course of oppression and injustice as had been familiar to his predecessors. The Burgers resisted him with the same, often ruffianly, energy, and when, after a six-year struggle amongst Flemings, the Count of Flanders, who had been conquered by the Burgers, owed his return as master of his Countship to the King of the French, he troubled himself about nothing but avenging himself and enjoying his victory at the expense of the vanquished. He chastised, dispoiled, prescribed, and inflicted atrocious punishments, and not content with striking in individuals he attacked the cities themselves. Nearly all of them, save Ghent, which had been favourable to the Count, saw their privileges annulled or curtailed of their most essential guarantees. The Burgers of Bruges were obliged to meet the Count halfway to his castle of Vail, and on their knees implore his pity. At Iprice the bell in the tower was broken up. Philip of Valois made himself a partner in these severities. He ordered the fortifications of Bruges, Ipris, and Quortré to be destroyed, and he charged French agents to see to their demolition. Their power is often led into mistakes by its insolence, but when it is in the hands of rash and reckless mediocrity there is no knowing how clumsy and blind it can be. Neither the King of France nor the Count of Flanders seemed to remember that the Flemish communes had, at their door, a natural and powerful ally who could not do without them any more than they could do without him. Woolenstuffs, cloths, carpets, warm coverings of every sort were the chief articles of the manufacturers and commerce of Flanders. Their chiefly was to be found all that the active and enterprising merchants of the time exported to Sweden, Norway, Hungary, Russia, and even Asia, and it was from England that they chiefly imported their wool, the primary staple of their handiwork. All Flanders, says Foysart, was based upon cloth and no wool, no cloth. On the other hand it was to Flanders that England, her land donors and farmers sold the fleeces of their flocks, and the two countries were thus united by the bond of their mutual prosperity. The Count of Flanders forgot or defied this fact so far as in 1336 at the instigation it had said of the King of France, to have all the English in Flanders arrested and kept in prison. Repisals were not long deferred. On the 5th of October in the same year the King of England ordered the arrest of all Flemish merchants in his kingdom and the seizure of their goods, and he at the same time prohibited the exportation of wool. Flanders was given over, says her principal historian, to desolation. Nearly all her looms ceased rattling on one in the same day, and the streets of her cities, but lately filled with rich and busy workmen, were overrun with beggars who asked in vain for work to escape from misery and hunger. The English landowners and farmers did not suffer so much, but were scarcely less angered. Only it was to the King of France and the Count of Flanders rather than their own King that they held themselves indebted for the stagnation of their affairs, and their discontent sought vent only in execration of the foreigner. When great national interests are to such a point misconceived and injured, their crop-up, before long, clear-sided and bold men who undertake the championship of them, and foment the quarrel to explosion-heat, either from personal views or patriotic feeling. The question of secession to the throne of France seemed settled by the inaction of the King of England, and the formal homage he had come and paid to the King of France at Amiens. But it was merely in abeyance. Many people, both in England and in France, still thought of it and spoke of it, and many intrigues, spread of hope or fear, were kept up with reference to it at the courts of the two kings. When the rumblings of anger were loud on both sides in consequence of affairs in Flanders, two men of note, a Frenchman and a Fleming, considering that the hour had come, determined to revive the question, and turn the great struggle which could not fail to be excited thereby to the profit of their own and their country's cause, for it is singular how ambition and devotion, selfishness and patriotism combine and mingle in the human soul, and even in great souls. Philip VI had embroiled himself with the Prince of his line, Robert of Artois, great-grandson of Robert, the first count of Artois, who was a brother of Saint Louis, and was killed during the Crusade in Egypt, at the Battle of Mansoura. As early as the reign of Philip the Handsome, Robert claimed the countship of Artois as his heritage, but having had his pretensions rejected by a decision of the peers of the kingdom, he had hoped for more success under Philip of Valois, whose sister he had married. Philip tried to satisfy him with another domain raised to a rich, but Robert, more and more discontented, got involved in a series of intrigues, plots, falsehoods, forgeries, and even, according to public report, imprisonments and crimes, which in 1332 led to his being condemned by the court of peers to banishment and the confiscation of his property. He fled for refuge first to Brevant, and then to England, to the court of Edward III, who received him graciously, and whom he forthwith commenced inciting to claim the Crown of France, his inheritance, as he said, which King Philip holds most wrongfully. Edward III, who was naturally prudent, and had been involved, almost ever since his accession, in a stubborn war with Scotland, cared but little for rushing into a fresh and far more serious enterprise. But of all human passions, hatred is perhaps the most determined in the prosecution of its designs. Edward accompanied the King of England in his campaigns northward, and Sir, said he, whilst they were marching together over the heaths of Scotland, leave this poor country and give your thoughts to the noble Crown of France. When Edward, on returning to London, was self-complacently rejoicing at his successes over his neighbors, Robert took pains to pique his self-respect by expressing astonishment that he did not seek more practical and more brilliant successes. History sometimes reveals sentiments and processes about which history is silent. We read in a poem of the 14th century, entitled The Vow on the Heron, in the season when summer is verging upon its decline, and the gay birds are forgetting their sweet converse on the trees, now despoiled of their verdure. Robert seeks for consolation in the pleasures of fouling, for he cannot forget the gentle land of France, the glorious country whence he is in exile. He carries a falcon, which goes flying over the waters till a heron falls its prey. Then he calls two young damsels to take the bird to the king's palace, singing the while in sweet discourse. Fly, fly ye honourless knights, give place to galants on whom love smiles. Here is the dish for galants who are faithful to their mistresses. The heron is the most timid of birds, for it fears its own shadow. It is for the heron to receive the vows of King Edward, who though lawful King of France dares not claim that noble heritage. At these words the king flushed. His heart was wroth, and he cried aloud, since coward is thrown in my teeth, I make vow on this heron to the God of Paradise, that ere a single year rolls by I will defy the King of Paris. Count Robert hears and smiles, and lo, to his own heart, he says, now have I won, and my heron will cause a great war. Edward's confidence in this tempter's work of his was well founded, but a little premature. Edward III did not repel him, complained loudly of the assistance rendered by the King of France to the Scots, gave an absolute refusal to Philip's demands for the extradition of the rebel Robert, and retorted by protesting in his turn against the reception accorded in France to David Bruce, the rival of his own favourite Baleol for the throne of Scotland. In Aquitaine he claimed, as of his own domain, some places still occupied by Philip. Philip on his side neglected no chance of causing Edward embarrassment, and more or less overtly assisting his foes. The two kings were profoundly distrustful one of the other, for saw both of them that they would one day come to blows, and prepared for it by mutually working to entangle and enfeeble one another. But neither durst as yet proclaim his wishes or his fears, and take the initiative in those unknown events which war must bring about to the great peril of their people, and perhaps of themselves. From 1334 to 1337, as they continued to advance towards the issue, for seen, and at the same time deferred, of this situation, they were both of them seeking allies in Europe for their approaching struggle. Philip had a notable one under his thumb. The Pope at that time settled at Avignon, and he made use of him for the purpose of proposing a new crusade, in which Edward III should be called upon to join with him. If Edward complied, any enterprise on his part against France would become impossible, and if he declined Christendom would cry fie upon him. Two successive popes, John XXII and Benedict XII, preached the crusade, and offered their mediation to settle the differences between the two kings, but they were unsuccessful in both their attempts. The two kings strained every nerve to form laic alliances. Philip did all he could to secure to himself the fidelity of Count Louis of Flanders, whom the King of England several times attempted, but in vain to win over. Philip drew into close relations with himself the kings of Bohemia and Nabar, the dukes of Lorraine and Burgundy, the Count of Foy, the Genoese, the Grand Prior of the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem, and many other lords. The two principal neighbours of Flanders, the Count of Hanolk and the Duke of Brabant, received the solicitations of both kings at one and the same time. The former had to wife Joan of Valois, sister of the King of France, but he had married his daughter Philippa to the King of England, and when Edward's envoys came and asked for his support in the great business which their master had in view, If the king can succeed in it, said the Count, I shall be right glad. It may well be supposed that my heart is with him, him who hath wedded my daughter, rather than with King Philip, though I have married his sister, for he hath filched from me the hand of the young Duke of Brabant, who should have wedded my daughter Isabel, and hath kept him for a daughter of his own. So help will I, my dear and beloved son, the King of England, to the best of my power. But he must get far stronger aid than mine, for Hanolk is but a little place in comparison with the Kingdom of France, and England is too far off to succour us. Our sir, said the envoys, advise us of what lords our master might best seek aid, and in what he might best put his trust. By my soul, said the Count, I could not point to lords so powerful to aid him in this business as would be the Duke of Brabant, who is his cousin German, the Duke of Gouldress, who hath his sister to wife, and Sire de Fouquement. They are those who have the most men at arms in the least time, and they are right good soldiers, provided that money be given them in proportion, for they are lords and men who are glad of pay. Edward III went for powerful allies even beyond the Rhine. He treated with Louis V of Bavaria, Emperor of Germany. He even had a solemn interview with him at a diet assembled at Koblenz, and Louis named Edward Vicar Imperial throughout all the Empire situated on the left bank of the Rhine, with orders to all princes of the Low Countries to follow and obey him, for a space of seven years in the field. But Louis of Bavaria was a tottering emperor, excommunicated by the Pope, and with a formidable competitor in Frederick of Austria. When the time for action arrived, King John of Bohemia, a zealous ally of the French King, persuaded the Emperor of Germany that his dignity would be compromised if he were to go and join the army of the English King, in whose pay he would appear to have enlisted, and Louis of Bavaria withdrew from his alliance with Edward III, sending back the subsidies he had received from him. CHAPTER XX The Hundred Years War Philip VI and John II Part II Which side were the Flemmings themselves to take in a conflict of such importance, and already so hot, even before it had reached bursting point? It was clearly in Flanders that each king was likely to find his most efficient allies, and so it was there that they made the most strenuous applications. Edward III hastened to restore between England and the Flemish communes the commercial relations which had been for a while disturbed by the arrest of the traitors in both countries. He sent into Flanders, even to Ghent, ambassadors charged to enter into negotiations with the Burgers, and one of the most considerable amongst these Burgers, Solver of Quartre, who had but lately supported Count Louis in his quarrels with the people of Bruges, loudly declared that the alliance with the King of England was the first requirement of Flanders, and gave apartments in his own house to one of the English envoys. Edward proposed the establishment in Flanders of a magazine for English wools, and he gave assurance to such Flemish weavers as would settle in England of all the securities they could desire. He even offered to give his daughter Joan in marriage to the son of the Count of Flanders. Philip, on his side, tried hard to reconcile the communes of Flanders to their Count, and so make them faithful to himself. He let them off two years' payment of a rent due to him of forty thousand leavers of Paris per annum. He promised them the monopoly of exporting wools from France. He authorized the Bruges men to widen the moats of their city, and even to repair its ramparts. The King of England's envoys met in most of the Flemish cities with favour which was real, but intermingled with prudent reservations, and Count Louis of Flanders remained ever close the allied with the King of France, for he was right French and loyal, says Froy Sartre, and with good reason, for he had the King of France almost alone to thank for restoring him to his country by force. Whilst by both sides preparations were thus being made on the continent for war, the question which was to make it burst forth was being decided in England. In the soul of Edward temptation overcame indecision. As early as the month of June, 1336, in a parliament assembled at Northampton, he had complained of the assistance given by the King of France to the Scots, and he had expressed a hope that, if the French and the Scots were to join, they would at last offer him battle, which the latter had always carefully avoided. In September of the same year he employed similar language in a parliament held at Nottingham, and he obtained therefrom subsidies for the war going on not only in Scotland, but also in Aquitaine, against the French King's lieutenants. In April and May of the following year, 1337, he granted to Robert of Artois, his tempter for three years past, court favors which proved his resolution to have been already taken. On the 21st of August following he formally declared war against the King of France, and addressed to all the sheriffs, archbishops, and bishops of his kingdom a circular in which he attributed the initiative to Philip. On the 26th of August he gave his ally, the Emperor of Germany, notice of what he had just done, whilst for the first time, interestingly described Philip as setting himself up for King of France. At last, on the 7th of October, 1337, he proclaimed himself King of France, as his lawful inheritance, designating as representatives and supporters of his right the Duke of Brabant, the Marquis of Jullier, the Count of Hanalt, and William de Bohan, Earl of Northampton. The enterprise had no foundation in right and seemed to have few chances of success. If the succession to the Crown of France had not been regulated beforehand by a special and positive law, Philip of Veloice had on his side the traditional right of nearly three centuries past and actual possession without any disputes having arisen in France upon the subject. His title had been expressly declared by the peers of the kingdom, sanctioned by the church, and recognized by Edward himself who had come to pay a mommage. He had the general and free assent of his people, to repeat the words of the chroniclers of the time, there was no mind in France to be subjects of the King of England. Philip VI was regarded in Europe as a greater and more powerful sovereign than Edward III. He had the Pope settled in the midst of his kingdom, and he had often traversed it with an array of valiant nobility whom he knew how to support and serve on occasion as faithfully as he was served by them. He was highly prized and honoured, says Freud-Sard, for the victor he had won at Castle over the Fleming's, and also for the handsome service he had done his cousin, Count Louis. He did thereby abide in great prosperity and honour, and he greatly increased the royal state. Never had there been King in France, it was said, who had kept state like King Philip, and he provided turnies and jousts and diversions in great abundance. No national interest, no public ground, was provocative of war between the two peoples. It was a war of personal ambition, like that which in the eleventh century William the Conqueror had carried into England. The memory of that great event was still, in the fourteenth century, so fresh in France, that when the pretensions of Edward were declared and the struggle was begun, an assemblage of Normans, Barons and Knights, or according to others, the estates of Normandy themselves, came and proposed to Philip to undertake once more, and at their own expense, the conquest of England, if he would put at their head his eldest son, John, their own duke. The King received their deputation at Vincennes on the twenty-third of March, 1339, and accepted their offer. They bound themselves to supply for the expedition four thousand men-and-arms and twenty thousand foot, whom they promised to maintain for ten weeks, and even a fortnight beyond, if when the duke of Normandy had crossed to England, his counsel should consider the prolongation necessary. The conditions in detail in the subsequent course of the enterprise thus projected were minutely regulated and settled in a treaty published by Dutille in fifteen eighty-eight. From a copy found at Caen, when Edward the Third became master of that city in thirteen forty-six. The events of the war, the long fits of hesitation on the part of both kings, and the repeated alternations from hostilities to truces and truces to hostilities, prevented anything from coming of this proposal, the authenticity of which has been questioned by Monsieur Michelet, among others, but the genuineness of which has been demonstrated by Monsieur Adolphe de Spont, member of the appeal court of Caen, in his learned Histoire du Cotonin. Edward the Third, though he had proclaimed himself king of France, did not at the outset of his claim adopt the policy of a man firmly resolved and burning to succeed. From thirteen thirty-seven to thirteen forty he behaved as if he were at strife with account of Flanders rather than with the king of France. He was incessantly to and fro, either by embassy or in person, between England, Flanders, Hanalt, Brabant and even Germany, for the purpose of bringing the princes and people to actively cooperate with him against his rival. And during this diplomatic movement such was the hostility between the king and the count of Flanders that Edward's ambassadors thought it impossible for them to pass through Flanders in safety, and went to Holland for a ship in which to return to England. Nor were their fears groundless, for the count of Flanders had caused to be arrested and was still detaining in prison at the castle of Rupelmand, the Fleming Sohear of Quartre, who had received into his house at Ghent one of the English envoys, and had shown himself favourable to their cause. Edward keenly resented these outrages, demanded but did not obtain the release of Sohear of Quartre, and by way of revenge gave orders in November thirteen thirty-seven to two of his bravest captains, the Earl of Darby and Walter de Mani, to go and attack the fort of Cudson, situated between the island of Walturin and the town of Eucluse, or Sthus, a port of consequence to the count of Flanders, who had invited the keeping of it to his bastard brother Guy, with five thousand of his most faithful subjects. It was a sanguinary affair. The besieged were surprised, but defended themselves bravely. The landing cost the English deer. The Earl of Darby was wounded and hurled to the ground. But his comrade, Walter de Mani, raised him up with a shout to his men of Lancaster for the Earl of Darby, and at last the English prevailed. The bastard of Flanders was made prisoner, the town was pillaged and burned, and the English returned to England and told their adventurers, as Foyce Art, to the king, who was right joyous when he saw them and learned how they had sped. Thus began that war which was to be so cruel and so long. The Fleming spore the brunt of it. It was a lamentable position for them. Their industrial and commercial prosperity was being ruined. Their security at home was going from them. Their communal liberties were compromised. Divisions set in amongst them. By interest and habitual intercourse they were drawn towards England, but the count, their lord, did all he could to turn them away from her, and many amongst them were loathed to separate themselves entirely from France. Burgers of Ghent, as they chatted in the thoroughfares and at the crossroads, said one to another that they had heard much wisdom to their mind from a burger who was called James Van Arteveld, and who was a brewer of beer. They had heard him say that, if he could obtain a hearing and credit, he would in a little while restore Flanders to the good estate, and they would recover all their gains without standing ill with the king of France or the king of England. These sayings began to get spread abroad, in so much that a quarter or half the city was informed thereof, especially the small folks of the commonality, whom the evil touched most nearly. They began to assemble in the streets, and it came to pass that one day, after dinner, several went from house to house calling for their comrades and saying, come and hear the wise man's counsel. On the 26th of December, 1337, they came to the house of the said James Van Arteveld, and found him leaning against his door. Far off as they were when they first perceived him, they made him a deep obeisance, and, dear sir, they said, we are come to you for counsel, for we are told that by your great and good sense you will restore the country of Flanders to good case. So tell us how. Then James Van Arteveld came forward, and said, sirs, comrades, I am a native and burger of this city, and here I have my means. Know that I would gladly age you with all my power, you and all the country, if there were here a man who would be willing to take the lead, I would be willing to risk body and means by his side, and if the rest of you be willing to be brethren, friends and comrades to me, to abide in all matters at my side, not withstanding that I am not worthy of it, I will undertake it willingly. Then said all with one voice, we promise you faithfully to abide at your side in all matters, and to therewith, adventure body and means, for we know well that in the whole countship of Flanders there is not a man but you worthy so to do. John Van Arteveld bound them to assemble on the next day but one in the grounds of the monastery of Beloch, which had received numerous benefits from the ancestors of Soheer of Quartre, whose son-in-law Van Arteveld was. This bold burger of Ghent, who was born about 1285, was sprung from a family the name of which had been for a long while inscribed in their city upon the register of industrial corporations. His father, John Van Arteveld, a cloth-worker, had been several times over sheriff of Ghent, and his mother, Mary Van Grotta, was a great aunt to the grandfather of the illustrious publicist called in history Grosius. James Van Arteveld, in his youth accompanied Count Charle of Valloy, brother of Philip the Handsome, upon his adventurous expeditions in Italy, Sicily, and Greece, and to the island of Rhodes, and it had been close by the spots where the soldiers of Marathon and Solemus had beaten the armies of Darius and Xerxes that he had heard of the victory of the Flemish burgers and the workmen attacked in 1302 at Quartre by the splendid army of Philip the Handsome. James Van Arteveld, on returning to his country, had been busy with his manufacturers, his fields, the education of his children, and Flemish affairs up to the day when, at his invitation, the burgers of Ghent thronged to the meeting on the 28th of December, 1337, in the grounds of the monastery of Beloch. There he delivered an eloquent speech, pointing out, unhesitatingly but temporally, the policy which he considered good for the country. "'Forget not,' he said, the might and glory of Flanders, who, pray, shall forbid that we defend our interests by using our rights. Can the King of France prevent us from treating with the King of England? And may we not be certain that if we were to treat with the King of England, the King of France would not be the less urgent in seeking our alliance? Besides, have we not with us all the communes of Bourbant, of Hanalt, of Holland, and of Zeeland?' The audience cheered these words, the commune of Ghent forthwith assembled, and on the 3rd of January, 1337, according to the old style, which made the year begin at the 25th of March, re-established the offices of captains of parishes according to olden usage, when the city was exposed to any pressing danger. It was carried that one of these captains should have the chief government of the city, and James Van Arteveld was at once invested with it. From that moment the conduct of Van Arteveld was ruled by one predominant idea, to secure free and fair commercial intercourse for Flanders with England, whilst observing a general neutrality in the war between the Kings of England and France, and to combine so far all the communes of Flanders in one and the same policy. And he succeeded in this twofold purpose. On the 29th of April, 1338, the representatives of all the communes of Flanders, the city of Bruges numbering amongst them a hundred and eight deputies, repaired to the castle of Mel, a residence of Count Louis, and then James Van Arteveld set before the Count what had been resolved upon amongst them. The Count submitted, and swore that he would thenceforth maintain the liberties of Flanders in the state in which they had existed since the Treaty of Athees. In the month of May following, a deputation consisting of James Van Arteveld and other burgers appointed by the cities of Ghent, Bruges and Ypres, scoured the whole of Flanders, from Balul to Tarmand, and from Ninov to Dunkirk, to reconcile the good folks of the communes to the Count of Flanders as well for the Count's honour as for the peace of the country. Lastly, on the 10th of June, 1338, a treaty was signed at envers between the deputies of the Flemish communes and the English Ambassadors, the latter declaring, We do all to wit that we have negotiated way and substance of friendship with the good folks of the communes of Flanders in form and manner herein after following. First, they shall be able to go and buy the wools and other merchandise which have been exported from England to Holland, Zealand, or any other place whatsoever, and all traders of Flanders who shall repair to the ports of England shall there be safe and free in their persons and their goods, just as in any other place where their ventures might bring them together. Item. We have agreed with the good folk, and with all the common country of Flanders, that they must not mix nor intermedal in any way by assistance of men or arms in the wars of our Lord the King and the nobles Sir Philip of Valois, who holdeth himself for King of France. Three articles following, regulated in detail, the principles laid down in the first two, and by another charter, Edward III ordained that all stuffs marked with the seal of the city of Ghent might travel freely in England, without being subject according to elage and quality to the control to which all foreign merchandise was subject. Istoire de Flandre by Monsieur Le Bairin Carwane de Lettenhove, pages 199 to 203. Van Arteveld was right in telling the Flemmings that, if they treated with the King of England, the King of France would be only the more anxious for their alliance. Philip of Valois, and even Count Louis of Flanders, when they got to know of the negotiations entered into between the Flemmish communes and King Edward, redoubled their offers and promises to them. But when the passions of men have taken full possession of their souls, words of concession and attempts at accommodation are nothing more than postponements or lies. Philip, when he heard about the conclusion of a treaty between the Flemmish communes and the King of England, sent word to Count Louis that this James Van Arteveld must not, on any account, be allowed to rule or even live, for if it were so for long the Count would lose his land. The Count, very much disposed to accept such advice, repaired to Ghent and sent for Van Arteveld to come and see him at his hotel. He went, but with so large a following that the Count was not at the time at all in a position to resist him. He tried to persuade the Flemmish burger that, if he would keep a hand on the people so as to keep them to their love for the King of France, he having more authority than any one else for such a purpose, much good would result to him, mingling besides with this address some words of threatening import. Van Arteveld, who was not the least afraid of the threat, and who at heart was fond of the English, told the Count that he would do as he had promised the communes. Hereupon he left the Count, who consulted his confidants as to what he was to do in this business, and they counseled him to let them go and assemble their people, saying that they would kill Van Arteveld secretly or otherwise. And indeed they did lay many traps and made many attempts against the Captain, but it was of no avail, since all the commonality was for him. When the rumour of these projects and these attempts was spread abroad in the city, the excitement was extreme, and all the burgers assumed white hoods, which was the mark peculiar to the members of the commune when they assembled under their flags, so that the Count found himself reduced to assuming one, for he was afraid of being kept captive again, and on the pretext of a hunting-party he lost no time in gaining his castle of mail. CHAPTER XXII. The burgers of Ghent had their minds still filled with their late alarm when they heard that, by order, it was said, of the King of France, Count Louis had sent and beheaded at the castle of Rupahand, in the very bed in which he was confined by his infirmities, their fellow citizen, solver of Quartré, Van Arteveld's father-in-law, who had been kept for many months in prison for his intimacy with the English. On the same day the Bishop of Sennlis and the Abbot of Saint-Denis had arrived at Tornay, and had superintended the reading out in the marketplace of a sentence of excommunication against the Ghentees. It was probably at this date that Van Arteveld, in his vexation and disquietude, assumed in Ghent an attitude threatening and despotic even to Tornay. He had continually after him, says Froy-Sart, sixty or eighty armed varlots, among whom or two or three who knew some of his secrets. When he met a man whom he had hated or had insufficient, this man was at once killed, for Van Arteveld had given this order to his varlots. The moment I meet a man and make such and such a sign to you, slay him without delay, however great he may be, without waiting for more speech. In this way he had many great masters slain. As soon as these sixty varlots had taken him home to his hotel, each went to dinner at his own house, and the moment dinner was over they returned and stood before his hotel, and waited in the street until that he was minded to go and play and take his past time in the city, and so they attended him till supper-time. And know that each of these hirelings had per diem four grossing of Flanders for their expenses and wages, and he had them regularly paid from week to week. And even in the case of all that were most powerful in Flanders, knights, esquires, and burgers of the good cities whom he believed to be favourable to the count of Flanders, them he banished from Flanders, and levied half their revenues. He had levies made of rents, of dues on merchandise, and all the revenues belonging to the count, wherever it might be in Flanders, and he dispersed them at his will, and gave them away without rendering any account. And when he would borrow of any burgers on his word for payment, there was none that durst say him nay. In short, there was never in Flanders, or in any other country, Duke, Count, Prince, or other, who can have had a country at his will as James Van Arteveld had for a long time. It is possible that, as some historians have thought, Froy Sartre, being less favourable to burgers than to princes, did not deny himself a little exaggeration in this portrait of a great burger-patriot, formed by the force of events and passions into a demagogic tyrant. But some of us may have too vivid a personal recollection of similar scenes to doubt the general truth of the picture, and we shall meet before long in the history of France during the fourteenth century with an example still more striking and more famous than that of Van Arteveld. Whilst the count of Flanders, after having vainly attempted to excite an uprising against Van Arteveld, was being forced in order to escape from the people of Bruges to mount his horse in hot haste, at night and barely armed, and to flee away to St. Omer, Philip of Velois and Edward III were preparing, on either side, for the war which they could see drawing near. Philip was vigorously at work on the Pope, the Emperor of Germany, and the princes' neighbours of Flanders, in order to raise obstacles against his rival or rob him of his allies. He ordered that short-lived meeting of his State's general about which we have no information left us, save that it voted the principle that no tallyage could be imposed on the people if urgent necessity or evident utility should not require it, and unless by concession of the estates. Philip, as chief of feudal society, rather than of the nation which was forming itself little by little around the lords, convoked at amiens all his vassals, great and small, laic or cleric, placing all his strength in their co-operation, and not caring at all to associate the country itself in the affairs of his government. Edward, on the contrary, whilst equipping his fleet and amassing treasurer at the expense of the Jews and Lombard users, was assembling his parliament, taking to it of this important and costly war, for which he obtained large subsidies, and accepting without making any difficulty the vote of the commons' house, which expressed a desire to consult their constituents upon this subject, and begged him to summon an early parliament, to which there should be elected in each county, two knights taken from among the best landowners of their counties. The king set out for the Continent, the parliament met and considered the exigencies of the war by land and sea, in Scotland and in France, traders, ship owners, and mariners were called and examined, and the forces determined to be necessary were voted. Edward took the field, pillaging, burning, and ravaging, destroying all the country for twelve or fourteen leagues to extant, as he himself said in a letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury. When he set foot on French territory, Count William of Honolte, his brother-in-law, and up to that time his ally, came to him and said that he would ride with him no farther, for that his presence was prayed and required by his uncle, the King of France, to whom he bore no hate, and whom he would go and serve in his own kingdom, as he had served King Edward on the territory of the Emperor, whose vicar he was, and Edward wished him God-speed. Such was the binding nature of feudal ties that the same Lord held himself bound to pass from one camp to another, according as he found himself upon the domains of one or the other of Assouserans in a war one against the other. Edward continued his march towards St. Quentin, where Philip had at last arrived with his allies, the kings of Bohemia, Navarre, and Scotland, after delays which had given rise to great scandal and murmurs throughout the whole kingdom. The two armies, with a strength, according to Foyce-Art, of a hundred thousand men on the French side, and forty-four thousand on the English, were soon facing one another, near Boyen-Foss, a large berg of Picardy. A herald came from the English camp to tell the King of France that the King of England demanded of him battle, to which demand, says Foyce-Art, the King of France gave willing assent, and accepted the day which was fixed at first for Thursday the twenty-first, and afterwards for Saturday the twenty-fifth of October, 1339. To judge from the somewhat tangled accounts of the chroniclers and of Foyce-Art himself, neither of the two kings was very anxious to come to blows. The forces of Edward were much inferior to those of Philip, and the former had accordingly taken up, as it appears, a position which rendered attack difficult for Philip. There was much division of opinion in the French camp. Independently of military grounds a great deal was said about certain letters from Robert, King of Naples, a mighty necromancer and full of mighty wisdom it was reported, who, after having several times cast their horoscopes, had discovered by astrology and from experience that if his cousin the King of France were to fight the King of England the former would be worsted. And thus disputing and debating, says Foyce-Art, the time passed till full midday. A little afterwards a hare came leaping across the fields and rushed amongst the French. Those who saw it began shouting and making a great hallou. Those who were behind thought that those who were in front were engaging in battle, and several put on their helmets and gripped upon their swords. Thereupon several knights were made, and Count and the Count of Honol himself made fourteen, who were thenceforth nicknamed Knights of the Hare. Whatever his motive may have been Philip did not attack, and Edward promptly began a retreat. They both dismissed their allies, and during the early days of November Philip fell back upon St. Quentin, and Edward went and took up his winter quarters at Brussels. For Edward it was a serious check not to have dared to attack the King whose kingdom he made a pretense of conquering, and he took it grievously to heart. At Brussels he had an interview with his allies and asked their counsel. Most of the princes of the Low Countries remained faithful to him, and the Count of Honol seemed inclined to go back to him, but all hesitated as to what he was to do to recover from the check. Ben Arteveld showed more invention and more boldness. The Flemish communes had concentrated their forces not far from the spot where the two kings had kept their armies looking at one another, but they had maintained a strict neutrality, and at the invitation of the Count of Flanders, who promised them that the King of France would entertain all their claims, Arteveld and Bradel, the deputies from Ghent and Bruges, even repaired to Quartré to make terms with him. But as they got there nothing but ambiguous engagements and evasive promises they let the negotiation drop, and whilst Count Louis was on his way to rejoin Philip at St. Quentin, Arteveld, with the deputies from the Flemish communes, started her Brussels. Edward, who was already living on very confidential terms with him, told him that if the Flemings were minded to help him keep up the war and go with him whithersoever he would take them, they should aid him to recover Lille, Douay, and Bethune, then occupied by the King of France. Arteveld, after consulting his colleagues, returned to Edward, and Dear Sir, said he, you have already made such request to us, and verily if we could do so whilst keeping our honour and faith we would do as you demand. But we be bound by faith and oath, and on a bond of two millions of Florence entered into with the Pope, not to go to war with the King of France, without incurring a debt to the amount of that sum, and a sentence of excommunication. But if you do that which we are about to say to you, if you will be pleased to adopt the arms of France, and quarter them with those of England, and openly call yourself King of France, we will uphold you for the true King of France. You as King of France shall give us quittance of our faith, and then we will obey you as King of France, and we'll go with or soever you shall ordain. This prospect pleased Edward mightily, but it irked him to take the name and arms of that which he had as yet won no title. He consulted his allies. Some of them hesitated, but his most privy and a special friend, Robert d'Artois, strongly urged him to consent to the proposal. So a French prince and a Flemish burger prevailed upon the King of England to pursue, as in assertion of his vowed rights, the conquest of the Kingdom of France. King Prince and Burger fixed Ghent as their place of meeting for the official conclusion of the alliance, and there, in January 1340, the mutual engagement was signed and sealed. The King of England assumed the arms of France quartered with those of England, and thenceforth took the title of King of France. Then burst forth in reality that war which was to last a hundred years, which was to bring upon the two nations the most violent struggles, as well as the most cruel sufferings, and which at the end of a hundred years was to end in the salvation of France from her tremendous peril, and the defeat of England in her unrighteous attempt. In January 1340 Edward thought he had won the most useful of allies. Artevelt thought the independence of the Flemish communes and his own supremacy in his own country secured, and Robert d'Artois thought with complacency how he had gratified his hatred for Philippa Valois, and all three were deceiving themselves in their joy and their confidence. Edward, leaving Queen Philippa at Ghent with Artevelt for her advisor, had returned to England, and had just obtained from the Parliament for the purpose of vigorously pushing on the war a subsidy almost without precedent, when he heard that a large French fleet was assembling on the coasts of Zeeland, near the port of Eccluse, or Sleuth, with the design of surprising and attacking him when he should cross over again to the Continent. For some time past this fleet had been cruising in the channel, making descents here and there upon English soil, at Plymouth, Southampton, Sandwich and Dover, and everywhere causing alarm and pillage. Its strength, they said, was a hundred and forty large vessels, without counting the smaller, having on board thirty-five thousand men—Normans, Pickards, Italians, Sailors, and Soldiers of all countries—under the command of two French leaders, Hugh Couré, Titchellor Admiral, and Nicholas Bajuche, King Philip's Treasurer, and of a famous Genoese buccaneer named Barbavera. Edward, so soon as he received this information, resolved to go and meet their attack, and he gave orders to have his vessels and troops summoned from all parts of England to Orwell, his point of departure. His advisers, with the archbishop of Canterbury at their head, strove but in vain to restrain him. You are all in conspiracy against me, said he, I shall go, and those who are afraid can abide at home. And go he did, on the twenty-second of June, thirteen-forty, and aboard of his fleet went with him many an English dame, says Froyce-Art, wives of Earls, and barons and knights, and burgers, of London, who were off to Ghent to see the Queen of England, for whom a long time past they had not seen. And King Edward guarded them carefully. For many a long day, said he, have I desired to fight those fellows, and now we will fight them, please God and St. George, for verily they have caused me so many displeasures that I would feign take vengeance for them, if I can but get it. On arriving off the coast of Flanders, opposite Eccluse, or Shloos, he saw so great a number of vessels that have masked there seemed to be verily a forest. He made his arrangements forthwith, placing his strongest ships in front, and maneuvering so as to have the wind on the starboard quarter and the sun astern. The Normans marveled to see the English thus twisting about, and said, They are turning tail, they are not man enough to fight us. But the Genoese buccaneer was not misled. When he saw the English fleet approaching in such fashion, he said to the French admiral and his colleague Bahouche, Sirs, here is the King of England, with all his ships bearing down upon us. If ye will follow my advice, instead of remaining shut up in port, ye will draw out into the open sea. For if ye abide here, they, whilst they have in their favour sun and wind and tide, will keep you so short of room that ye will be helpless and unable to maneuver. Whereupon answered the treasurer Bahouche, who knew more about arithmetic than sea-fights, let him go hang, whoever shall go out, here will we wait and take our chance. Sir, replied Barbaravera, if ye will not be pleased to believe me, I have no mind to work my own ruin, and will get me gone with my galleys out of this hole. And out he went, with all his squadron, engaged the English on the high seas, and took the first ship which attempted to board him. But Edward, though he was wounded in the thigh, quickly restored the battle. After a gallant resistance Barbaravera sailed off with his galleys, and the French fleet found itself alone at grips with the English. The struggle was obstinate on both sides. It began at six in the morning of June 24, 1340, and lasted to midday. It was put an end to by the arrival of the reinforcements promised by the Fleming's to the King of England. The deputies of Bruges, says their historian, had employed the whole night in getting under way an armament of two hundred vessels, and before long the French heard echoing about them the whorms of the Flemish mariners sounding to quarters. These latter decided the victory, Bihushe, Philip of Valois's treasurer, fell into their hands, and they, heeding only their desire of avenging themselves for the devastation of Cadson in 1337, hanged him from the mast of his vessel, out of spite to the King of France. The admiral, Hugh Couret, though he surrendered, was put to death, and with him perished so great a number of men-at-arms that the sea was dyed with blood on this coast, and the dead were put down at quite thirty thousand men. CHAPTER XXI. The very day after the battle the Queen of England came up from Ghent to join the King, her husband, whom his wound confined to his ship, and at Valenciennes, withered the news of the victory speedily arrived, Artivelt, mounting a platform set up in the marketplace, maintained in the presence of a large crowd the right which the King of England had to claim the Kingdom of France. He vaunted the puissance of the three countries, Flanders, Hanalt, and Brabant, when at one accord amongst themselves, and what with his words and his great sense, says Fursart, he did so well that all who heard him said that he had spoken mighty well, and with mighty experience, and that he was right worthy to govern the accountship of Flanders. From Valenciennes he repaired to King Edward at Bruges, where all the allied princes were assembled, and there, in concert with the other deputies from the Flemish communes, Artivelt offered Edward a hundred thousand men for the vigorous prosecution of the war. All these burgers, says the modern historian of the Flemings, had declared that, in order to promote their country's cause, they would serve without pay, so heartily had they entered into the war. The Siege of Tornay was the first operation Edward resolved to undertake. He had promised to give this place to the Flemings. The burgers were getting a taste for conquest in company with kings. They found Philip of Alois better informed, and also more hot for war than perhaps they had expected. It is said that he learned the defeat of his navy at Eccluse from his court fool, who was the first to announce it, and in the following fashion. The Englisher Cowards said he, why so, asked the king, because they lacked courage to leap into the Siege at Eccluse as the French in Normans did. Philip lost no time about putting the places on his northern frontier in a state of defense. He took up his quarters first at Arras, and then three leagues from Tornay, into which his constable, Raoul Doe, immediately threw himself, with a considerable force, and wither his allies the Duke of Lorraine, the Count of Savoy, the bishops of Liege, Metz, and Verdun, and nearly all the barons of Burgundy came and joined him. On the 27th of July, 1340, he received there from his rival a challenge of portentous length, the principal terms of which are set forth as follows. Philip of Alois, for a long time past we have taken proceedings, by means of messages and other reasonable ways, to the end that you might restore to us our rightful heritage of France, which you have this long while withheld from us, and do most wrongfully occupy. And as we do clearly see that you do intend to persevere in your wrongful withholding, we do give you notice that we are marching against you to bring our rightful claims to an issue. And whereas so great a number of folks assembled on our side and on yours cannot keep themselves together for long without causing great destruction to the people in the country, we desire as the quarrel is between you and us, that the decision of our claim should be between our two bodies. And if you have no mind to this way, we propose that our quarrel should end by a battle, body to body, between a hundred persons, the most capable on your side and on ours. And if you have no mind, either to one way or to the other, that you do appoint us a fixed day for fighting before the city of Tornay, power to power. Given under our privy seal on the field near Tornay, the 26th day of July, in the first year of our reign in France and in England the 14th. Philip replied, Philip, by the grace of God, King of France to Edward, King of England. We have seen your letters brought to our court, as from you to Philip of Valois, and containing certain demands which you make upon the said Philip of Valois. And as the said letters did not come to our self, we make you no answer. Our intention is, when it shall seem good to us, to hurl you out of our kingdom for the benefit of our people, and of that we have firm hope in Jesus Christ, from whom all power cometh to us. Events were not satisfactory, either to the haughty pretensions of Edward or to the patriotic hopes of Philip. The war continued in the north and southwest of France without any result. In the neighborhood of Tornay some encounters in the open country were unfavorable to the English and their allies. The siege of the place was prolonged for seventy-four days without the attainment of any success by assault or investment, and the inhabitants defended themselves with so obstinate a courage that when at length the King of England found himself obliged to raise the siege, Philip, to testify his gratitude towards them, restored them their law, that is, their communal charter, for some time passed withdrawn, and they were greatly rejoiced, says Freud-Sart, at having no more royal governors and at appointing provosts and jurymen according to their fancy. The Flemish burgers, in spite of their display of war-like zeal, soon grew tired of being so far from their business and of living under canvas. In Aquitaine the lieutenants of the King of France had the advantage over those of the King of England. They retook or delivered several places in dispute between the two crowns, and they closely pressed Bordeaux itself both by land and sea. Edward the aggressor was exhausting his pecuniary resources, and his parliament was displaying but little inclination to replenish them. For Philip, who had merely to defend himself in his own dominions, any cessation of hostilities was almost a victory. Appiah's princess, Joan of Velois, sister of Philip and mother-in-law of Edward, issued from her convent at Fontanelle for the purpose of urging the two kings to make peace, or at least to suspend hostilities. The good dame, says Freud-Sart, saw there, on the two sides, all the flower in honour of the chivalry of the world, and many a time she had fallen at the feet of her brother the King of France, praying him for some respite or treaty of agreement between himself and the English king. And when she had laboured with them of France, she went her way to them of the Empire, to the Duke of Brabant, to the Marquis of Juillet, and to my Lord John of Hallalt, and prayed them for God's and pity's sake that they would be pleased to harken to some terms of accord, and would win over the King of England to be pleased to condescend there too. In concert with the envoys of Pope Benedict VII, Joan of Velois at last succeeded in bringing the two sovereigns and their allies to a truce, which was concluded on the 25th of September 1340, at first for nine months, and was afterwards renewed on several occasions up to the month of June 1342. Neither sovereign and none of their allies gave up anything, or bound themselves to anything more than not to fight during that interval. But they were on both sides without the power of carrying on without a pause a struggle which they would not entirely abandon. An unexpected incident led to its recommendation in spite of the truce. Not, however, throughout France or directly between the two kings, but with fiery fierceness, though it was limited to a single province, and arose not in the name of the kingship of France, but out of a purely provincial question. On the third, Duke of Brittany, and a faithful vassal of Philip of Velois, whom he had gone to support at Tornay, more stoutly and substantially than any of the other princes, says Froy-Sart, died suddenly at King, on the 30th of April 1341, on returning to his domain. Though he had been thrice married he left no child. The Duchy of Brittany then reverted to his brothers or their posterity, but his very next brother, Guy, count of Ponceau, had been dead six years, and had left only a daughter, Joan, called the Cripple, married to Charles of Blois, nephew of the King of France. The third brother was still alive. He too was named John, had from his mother the title of Count of Montfort, and claimed to be the heir to the Duchy of Brittany in preference to his niece Joan. The niece, on the contrary, believed in her own right to the exclusion of her uncle. The question was exactly the same as that which had arisen touching the crown of France, when Philip the Long had successfully disputed it with the only daughter of his brother, Louis the Coralor, but the Salic Law, which had for more than three centuries prevailed in France, had just lately to the benefit of Philip of Veloise had no existence in the written code, or the traditions of Brittany. There as in several other great fives, women had often been recognized as capable of holding and transmitting sovereignty. At the death of John the Third, his brother, the Count of Montfort, immediately put himself in possession of the inheritance, seized the principal Breton towns, Nantes, Brest, Rennes, and Vannes, and crossed over to England to secure the support of Edward III. His rival, Charles of Blois, appealed to the decision of the King of France, his uncle and natural protector. Philip of Veloise thus found himself the champion of succession in the female line in Brittany, whilst he was himself reigning in France by virtue of the Salic Law, and Edward III took up in Brittany the defense of succession in the male line, which he was disputing and fighting against in France. Philip and his court of peers declared on the 7th of September, 1341, that Brittany belonged to Charles of Blois, who at once did homage for it to the King of France, whilst John of Montfort demanded and obtained the support of the King of England. War broke out between the two claimants, effectually supported by the two kings, who nevertheless were not supposed to make war upon one another and in their own dominions. The feudal system sometimes entailed these strange and dangerous complications. If the two parties had been reduced for leaders to the two claimants only, the war would not, perhaps, have lasted long. In the first campaign the Count of Montfort was made prisoner at the Siege of Nantes, carried off to Paris, and shut up in the tower of the Louvre, whence he did not escape until three years were over. Charles of Blois, with all his personal valor, was so scrupulously devout that he often added to the embarrassments and at the same time the delays of war. He never marched without being followed by his almaner, who took with him everywhere bread and wine and water and fire in a pot, for the purpose of saying mass by the way. One day when Charles was accordingly hearing it and was very near the enemy, one of his officers, Afroi de Montbuchet, said to him, Sir, you see right well that your enemies are yonder, and you halt a longer time than they need to take you. Afroi, answered the Prince, we shall always have towns and castles, and if they are taken we shall, with God's help, recover them. But if we miss hearing of mass we shall never recover it. Neither side, however, had much detriment from either the captivity or pious delays of its chief. Joan of Flanders, Countess of Montfort, was at Wren when she heard that her husband had been taken prisoner at Nantes. Although she made great mourning in her heart, says Froisard, she made it not like a disconsolate woman, but like a proud and gallant man. She showed to her friends and soldiers a little boy she had, and whose name was John, even as his father's. And she said to them, Ah, sirs, be not discomforted and cast down because of my Lord whom we have lost. He was but one man. See, here is my little boy, who, please God, shall be his avenger. I have wealth in abundance, and of it I will give you an L, and I will provide you with such a leader as shall give you all fresh heart. She went through all her good towns and fortresses, taking her young son with her, reinforcing the garrisons with men and all they wanted, and giving away abundantly wherever she thought it would be well laid out. Then she went her way to Henebon-sur-Mer, which was a strong town and strong castle, and there she abode and her son with her all the winter. In May 1342 Charles of Boyce came to beseech her, but the attempts at assault were not successful. The Countess of Montfort, who was cased in armor and rode on a fine steed, galloped from street to street through the town, summoned the people to defend themselves stoutly, and called on the women, dames, damosels, and others to pull up the roads and carry the stones to the ramparts to throw down on the assailants. She attempted a bolder enterprise. She sometimes mounted a tower right up to the top, that she might see the better how her people bore themselves. She one day saw that all they of the hostile army, lords and others, had left their quarters and gone to watch the assault. She mounted her steed, all armed as she was, and summoned to horse with her about three hundred men at arms who were on guard at a gate which was not being assailed. She went out there at with all her company and threw herself valiantly upon the tents and quarters of the lords of France, which were all burned, being guarded only by boys and varlots, who fled as soon as they saw the Countess and her folk entering and setting fire. When the lords saw their quarters burning and heard the noise which came there from, they ran up all dazed and crying, Betrayed, betrayed, so that none remained for the assault. When the Countess saw the enemy's host running up from all parts, she reassembled all her folk, and seeing right well that she could not enter the town again without too great loss, she went off by another road to the castle of Brest, or more probably Darae, as Brest is much more than three leagues from Hennobahn, which lies as near as three leagues from thence. Though hotly pursued by the assailants, she rode so fast and so well that she and the greater part of her folks arrived at the castle of Brest, where she was received and feasted right joyously. Those of her folks who were in Hennobahn were all night in great disquietude because neither she nor any of her company returned, and the assailant lords, who had taken up quarters near to the town, cried, Come out, come out, and seek your Countess. She has lost. You will not find a bit of her. In such fear the folks in Hennobahn remained five days. But the Countess wrought so well that she had now full five hundred comrades armed and well-mounted. Then she set out from Brest about midnight and came away, arriving at sunrise and riding straight upon one of the flanks of the enemy's host. There she had the gate of Hennobahn Castle opened, and entered in with great joy and a great noise of trumpets and drums, whereby the besiegers were roughly disturbed and awakened. The joy of the besieged was short. Charles of Blois pressed on the siege more rigorously every day, threatening that, when he should have taken the place, he would put all the inhabitants to the sword. Consternation spread even to the brave, and a negotiation was opened with a view of arriving at terms of capitulation. By dint of prayers Countess Joan obtained a delay of three days. The first two had expired, and the besiegers were preparing for a fresh assault, when Joan, from the top of her tower, saw the sea covered with sails. See, see, she cried, the aid so much desired. One in the town, as best they could, rushed up at once to the windows and battlements of the walls to see what it might be, says Royce Hart. In point of fact it was a fleet, with six thousand men brought from England to the relief of Hennobahn, by Amoré de Clisson and Walter de Mani, and they had been a long while detained at sea by contrary winds. When they had landed the Countess herself went to them and feasted them and thanked them greatly, which was no wonder, for she had soar need of their coming. It was far better still when, next day, the new arrivals had attacked the besiegers and gained a brilliant victory over them. When they re-entered the place, whoever, says Royce Hart, saw the Countess descend from the castle and kiss my Lord Walter de Mani and his comrades one after another two or three times, might well have said that it was a gallant dame. All the while that the Count of Montfort was a prisoner in the Tower of the Louvre, the Countess his wife strove for his cause with the same indefatagable energy. He escaped in 1345, crossed over to England, swore fealty and homage to Edward III for the Duchy of Brittany, and immediately returned to take in hand, himself, to his own cause. But in the very year of his escape, on the 26th of September 1345, he died at the Castle of Hennobahn, leaving once more his wife with a young child, alone at the head of his party, and having in charge the future of his house. The Countess Joan maintained the rights and interests of her son as she had maintained those of her husband. For nineteen years she, with the help of England, struggled against Charles of Royce, the head of a party growing more and more powerful and protected by France. Fortune shifted her favours and her asperities from one camp to the other. Charles of Royce had at first pretty considerable success, but on the eighteenth of June, 1347, in a battle in which he personally displayed a brilliant courage, he was in his turn made prisoner, carried to England and emurred in the Tower of London. There he remained nine years. But he too had a valiant and indomitable wife, Joan of Penthevres, the cripple. She did for her husband all that Joan of Monfort was doing for hers. All the time that he was a prisoner in the Tower of London, she was the sole and the head of his party, in the open country as well as in the towns, turning to profitable account the inclinations of the Breton population, whom the presence and the ravages of the English had turned against John of Monfort and his cause. She even convoked at Deenan in 1352 a general assembly of her partisans, which is counted by the Breton historians as the second holding of the states of their country. During nine years, from 1347 to 1356, the two Jones were the heads of their parties in politics and in war. Charles of Blois at last obtained his liberty from Edward III on hard conditions, and returned to Brittany to take up the conduct of his own affairs. The struggle between the two claimants still lasted eight years, with vicissitudes ending in nothing definite. In 1363 Charles of Blois and young John of Monfort, weary of the fruitless efforts and the sufferings of their countries, determined both of them to make peace and share Brittany between them. Renz was to be Charles's capital, and nonce that of his rival. The treaty had been signed, an altar raised between the two armies, and an oath taken on both sides. But when Joan of Pencevara was informed of it, she refused downright to ratify it. I married you, she said to her husband, to defend my inheritance, and not to yield the half of it. I am only a woman, but I would lose my life and two lives if I had them, rather than consent to any session of the kind. Charles of Blois, as weak before his wife as brave before the Brittany, broke the treaty he had but just sworn to, and set out for not to resume the war. My Lord, said Countess Joan to him in presence of all his nights, you are going to defend my inheritance and yours, which my Lord of Monfort, wrongfully God knows doth withhold from us, and the barons of Brittany who are here, present, know that I am rightful heiress of it. I pray you affectionately not to make any ordinance, composition, or treaty, whereby the duchy corporate remain not ours. Charles set out, and in the following year, on the 29th of September 1364, the Battle of R.A. cost him his life and the Countship of Brittany. When he was wounded to death he said, I have long been at war against my conscience. At the sight of his dead body on the field of battle, young John of Monfort, his conqueror, was touched, and cried out, Alas, my cousin, by your obstinacy, you have been the cause of great evils in Brittany. May God forgive you. It grieves me much that you are come to so sad an end. After this outburst of generous compassion came the joy of victory, which Monfort owed above all to his English allies and to John Chandos, their leader, to whom, my Lord John, said he, this great fortune path come to me through your great sense and prowess. Wherefore, I pray you, drink out of my cup. Sir, answered Chandos, let us go hence, and render you our thanks to God for this happy fortune you have gotten. For without the death of Yonder Warrior you could not have come into the inheritance of Brittany. From that day forth John of Monfort remained in point of fact Duke of Brittany, and Joan of Pentebra, the cripple, the proud princess who had so obstinately defended her rights against him, survived for full twenty years the death of her husband and the loss of her duchy. End of Chapter 20 Part 4 Chapter 20 Part 5 of Volume 2 of a popular history of France from the earliest times. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Volume 2 of a popular history of France from the earliest times by Francois Guizot, translated by Robert Black. Chapter 20 The Hundred Years' War Philip VI and John II Part 5 Whilst the two Jones were exhibiting in Brittany for the preservation or recovery of their little dominion so much energy and persistency, another Joan, no princess, but not the Lessa heroine, was in no other interest than the satisfaction of her love and her vengeance making war all by herself on the same territory. Several Norman and Bretton lords and amongst others Oliver de Clisson and Godfrey Darkourt were suspected, nominally attached as they were to the King of France, of having made secret overtures to the King of England. Philip of the Lois had them arrested at a tournament and had them beheaded without any form of trial, in the middle of the marketplace at Paris, to the number of fourteen. The head of Clisson was sent to Nantes and exposed on one of the gates of the city. At the news thereof, his widow, Joan of Belleville, attended by several men of family, her neighbors and friends, set out for a castle occupied by the troops of Philip's candidate, Charles of Lois. The fate of Clisson was not yet known there. It was supposed that his wife was on a hunting excursion, and she was admitted without distrust. As soon as she was inside, the blast of a horn gave notice to her followers, whom she had left concealed in the neighboring woods. They rushed up and took possession of the castle, and Joan de Clisson had all the inhabitants but one put to the sword. But this was too little for her grief and her zeal. At the head of her troops, augmented, she scoured the country and seized several places, everywhere driving out or putting to death the servants of the king of France. Philip confiscated the property of the house of Clisson. Joan moved from land to sea. She manned several vessels, attacked the French ships she fell in with, ravaged the coasts, and ended by going and placing at the service of the Countess of Monfort her hatred and her son, a boy of seven years of age, whom she had taken with her in all her expeditions, and who was afterwards the great constable, Edward de Clisson. We shall find him under Charles V and Charles VI, as devoted to France and her kings, as if he had not made his first essays and arms against the candidate of their ancestor, Philip. His mother had sent him to England to be brought up at the court of Edward III, but shortly after taking a glorious part with the English in the battle of Aure, in which he lost an eye, and which secured the Duchy of Brittany to the Count of Monfort, the Clisson got embroiled nonetheless with his Souserin, who had given John Chandos the Castle of Gavra near Nantes. Devils take me, my lord, said Oliver to him, if ever Englishmen shall be my neighbor. And he went forthwith and attacked the castle, which he completely demolished. The hatreds of women whose passions have made them heroines of war are more personal and more obstinate than those of the roughest warriors. Accordingly, the war for the Duchy of Brittany in the fourteenth century has been called in history the War of the Three Jones. This war was, on both sides, remarkable for cruelty. If Joan de Clisson gave to the sword all the people in a castle, belonging to Charles of Blois, to which she had been admitted on a supposition of Pacific intentions, Charles of Blois, on his side, finding in another castle thirty knights, partisans of the Count of Monfort, had their heads shot from catapults over the wall of Nantes, which he was besieging, and at the same time that he saved from pillage the churches of Quimper, which he had just taken, he allowed his troops to massacre fourteen hundred inhabitants, and had his principal prisoners beheaded. One of them being a deacon he caused to be degraded, and then handed over to the populace who stoned him. It is characteristic of the Middle Ages that in them the ferocity of barbaric times existed side by side with the sentiments of chivalry and the fervor of Christianity, so slow as the race of man to eschew evil, even when it has began to discern enrelish good. War was the passion and habitual condition of men. They made it without motive as well as without provision, in a transport of feeling or for the sake of pastime, to display their strength or to escape from listlessness, and whilst making it they abandoned themselves without scruple to all those deeds of violence, vengeance, brutal anger, or fierce delight which war provokes. At the same time, however, the generous impulses of feudal chivalry, the sympathies of Christian piety, tender affections, faithful devotion, noble tastes, were fermenting in their souls, and human nature appeared with all its complications, its inconsistencies, and its irregularities. But also with all its wealth of prospective development. The three Jones of the fourteenth century were but eighty years in advance of the Joan of Arc of the fifteenth, and the Knights of Charles the Fifth, de Gousquin and de Glissant, were the forerunners of the Bayard of Francis I. An incident which has retained its popularity in French history, to wit, the fight between thirty Britons and thirty English during the just now commemorated war in Brittany, will give a better idea than any general observations could of the real living characteristics of facts and manners, barbaric and at the same time chivalric at that period. No apology is needed for here reproducing the chief details as they have been related by Freud's art, the dramatic chronicler of the Middle Ages. In thirteen-fifty-one it happened on a day that Sir Robert de Beaumanois, a valiant knight and commandant of the castle which is called Castle Jocelyn, came before the town and castle of Plormel, whereof the captain, called Brandeburg, or Brembro, probably Brembro, had with him plenty of soldiers of the Count's Monfort. Brandeburg, said Robert, have you within their never-amanted arms, or two or three, who would feign cross swords with other three for love of their ladies? Brandeburg answered that their ladies would not have them lose their lives in so miserable an affair as single combat, whereby one gained the name of fool rather than the honourable renown. I will tell you what we will do, if it please you. You shall take twenty or thirty of your comrades, as I will take as many of ours. We will go out into a goodly field where none can hinder or vex us, and there will we do so much that men shall speak thereof in time to come in hall and palace and highway and other places of the world. By my faith, said Beaumanois, to his bravely said, and I agree, Be you thirty and we will be thirty-two. And thus the matter was settled. When the day had come the thirty comrades of Brandeburg, whom we shall call English, heard mass, then got on their arms, went off to the place where the battle was to be, dismounted, and waited a long while for the others, whom we shall call French. When the thirty French had come, and they were in front of one another, they parlayed a little together, all the sixty. Then they fell back, and made all their fellows go far away from the place. Then one of them made a sign, and forthwith they set on and fought stoutly, all in a heap, and they aided one another handsomely when they saw their comrades in evil case. Pretty soon after they had come together, one of the French was slain, but the rest did not slack in the fight when wit, and they bore themselves as valiantly, all as if they had been Roland's and Oliver's. At last they were forced to stop, and they rested by common accord, giving themselves truce until they should be rested, and the first to get up again should recall the others. They rested long, and there were some who drank wine which was brought to them in bottles. They rebuckled their armor, which had got undone, and dressed their wounds. Four French and two English were dead already. It was no doubt during this interval that the captain of the Bretons, Robert de Beaumonoir, grievously wounded and dying of fatigue and thirst, called out for a drink. "'Drink thy blood,' Beaumonoir said one of his comrades, Geoffrey de Bois, according to some accounts, and sired to Tenteniac, according to others. From that day those words became the war cry of the Beaumonoirs. Freud's art says nothing of this incident. Let us return to his narrative." When they were refreshed, the first to get up again made a sign, and recalled the others. Then the battle recommenced as stoutly as before, and lasted a long while. They had short swords of Bordeaux, tough and sharp, and boor spears and daggers, and some had axes, and therewith they dealt one another marvellously great dings, and some seized one another by the arms of struggling, and they struck one another and spared naught. At last the English had the worst of it. Brandebourg, their captain, was slain with eight of his comrades, and the rest yielded themselves prisoners when they saw that they could no longer defend themselves, for they could not and must not fly. Sir Robert de Beaumonoir and his comrades, who remained alive, took them and carried them off to Castle Jocelyn as their prisoners, and then admitted them to ransom courteously when they were all cured, for there was none that was not grievously wounded, French as well as English. I saw afterwards, sitting at the table of King Charles of France, a Breton Knight who had been in it, Sir Yvon Charnel, and he had a face so carved and cut that he showed full well how good a fight had been fought. The matter was talked of in many places, and some set it down as a very poor, and others as a very swaggering business. The most modern and most judicious historian of Brittany, Count Daru, who has left a name as honourable in literature as in the higher administration of the First Empire, says very truly, in recounting this incident, it is not quite certain whether this was an act of patriotism or of chivalry. He might have gone farther, and discovered in this exploit not only the characteristics he points out, but many others besides. Local patriotism, the honour of Brittany, party spirit, the success of John of Monford, or Charles of Blois, the sentiment of gallantry, the glorification of the most beautiful one amongst their lady-loves, and chiefly, the passion for war amongst all and sundry, there was something of all this mixed up with the battle of the Thirty, a faithful reflux of the complication and confusion of minds, of morals, and of wands at that forceful period. It is this very variety of the ideas, feelings, interests, motive, and motive tendencies involved in that incident which accounts for the fact that the battle of the Thirty has remained so vividly remembered, and that in 1811 a monument, unpretentious but national, replaced the simple stone at first erected on the field of battle, on the edge of the road from Formel to Jocelyn, with this inscription, to the immortal memory of the battle of the Thirty, gained by Marshal Beaumont Noir on the 26th of March, 1350, 1351. With some fondness, and at some length, this portion of Brittany's history in the fourteenth century has been dwelt upon, not only because of the dramatic interest attaching to the events and the actors, but also for the sake of showing, by that example, how many separate associations, diverse and often hostile, were at that time developing themselves, each on its own account, in that extensive and beautiful country which became France. We will now return to Philip of Velois and Edward the Third, and to the struggle between them for a settlement of the question, whether France should or should not preserve its own independent kingship, and that national unity of which she already had the name, but of which she was still to undergo so much painful travail in acquiring the reality. Although Edward the Third, by supporting troops and officers, and sometimes even in person, the cause of the Countess of Montfort, and Philip of Velois by assisting in the same way Charles of Blois and Joan of Penthevres, took a very active, if indirect, share in the war in Brittany. The two kings persisted in not calling themselves at war, and when either of them proceeded to act of unquestionable hostility, they eluded the consequences of them by hastily concluding truces incessantly, violated, and as incessantly renewed. They had made use of this expedient in 1340, and they had recourse to it again in 1342, 1343, and 1344. The last of these truces was to have lasted up to 1346, but in the spring of 1345 Edward resolved to put an end to this equivocal position and to openly recommend war. He announced his intention to Pope Clement IV, to his own lieutenants in Brittany, and to all the cities and corporations of his kingdom. He accused Philip of having violated, without even sending us a challenge, the truce which, out of regard to the sovereign Pontiff, we had agreed upon with him, and which he had taken an oath upon his soul to keep. On account whereof we have resolved to proceed against him, him and all his adherents, by land and by sea, by all means possible, in order to recover our just rights. It is not quite clear what pressing reasons urged Edward to this decisive resolution. The English Parliament and people, it is true, showed more disposition to support their king and his pretensions to the throne of France, and the cause of the count of Montfort was maintaining itself stubbornly in Brittany. But nothing seemed to call for so startling a rupture, or to promise Edward any speedy and successful issue. He had lost his most energetic and warlike advisor, for Robert d'Artois, the deadly enemy of Philip of Valois, had been so desperately wounded in the defence of Vain against Robert de Beaumont, that he had returned to England only to die. Edward felt this loss severely, gave Robert a splendid funeral in St. Paul's Church, and declared that he would listen to not until he had avenged him, and that he would reduce the country of Brittany to such plight, that for forty years it should not recover. Philip of Valois, on his side, gave signs of getting ready for war. In 1343 he had convoked at Paris one of those assemblies which were beginning to be called the State's General of the Kingdom, and he obtained from it certain subventions. It was likewise in 1343 and at the beginning of 1344 that he ordered the arrest, at a tournament to which he had invited them, and the decapitation, without any form of trial, of fourteen Breton and three Norman lords, whom he suspected of intranging against him with the King of England. And so Edward might have considered himself threatened with eminent peril, and besides he had friends to avenge. But it is not unreasonable to suppose that his fiery ambition, and his impatience to decide once for all that question of the French kingship, which had been for five years in suspense between himself and his rival, were the true causes of his warlike resolve. However that may be, he determined to push the war vigorously forward at the three points at which he could easily wage it. In Britain he had a party already engaged in the struggle. In Aquitaine, possessions of importance to defend or recover. In Flanders allies with power to back him, and as angry as himself. To Brittany he forwarded fresh supplies for the Count of Montfort. To Aquitaine he sent Henry of Lancaster, Earl of Darby, his own cousin, and the ablest of his lieutenants, and he himself prepared to cross over with a large army to Flanders. The Earl of Darby met with solid and brilliant success in Aquitaine. He attacked and took in rapid succession Bergerac, the Earl, Aguillon, Montpizart, Villefrages, and Anglome. None of these places was relieved in time. The strict discipline of Darby's troops and the skill of the English archers were too much for the bravery of the men at arms, and the raw levies ill-organized and ill-paid of the King of France, and in a word the English were soon masters of almost the whole country between the Garand and the Charente. Under such happy auspices Edward III arrived on the seventh of July 1345 at the port of Écluses, Sleus, anxious to put himself in concert with the Flemmings touching the campaign he proposed to commence before long in the north of France. Art de Vellte, with the consuls of Bruges and Ypres, was waiting him there. According to some historians Edward invited them aboard of his galley, and represented to them that the time had come for renouncing imperfect resolves and half-measures, told them that their Count, Louis of Flanders, and his ancestors had always ignored and attacked their liberties, and that the best thing they could do would be to sever their connection with a house they could not trust, and offering them for their chieftain his own son, the young Prince of Wales, to whom he would give the title to Duke of Flanders. According to other historians it was not King Edward, but Art de Vellte himself, who took the initiative in this proposition. The latter had, for some time past, felt his own dominion in Flanders attacked and shaken, and he had been confronted in his own native city by declared enemies, who had all but come to blows with his own partisans. The different industrial corporations of Ghent were no longer at one amongst themselves. The weavers had quarreled with the fullers. Division was likewise reaching a great hide amongst the Flemish towns. The burgers of poppering had refused to continue recognizing the privileges of those of Ypres, and the Ypres men, enraged, had taken up arms, and after a sanguinary melee had forced the folks of poppering to give in. Then the Ypres men, proud of their triumph, had gone and broken the weavers' machinery at Balue, and in some other towns. Art de Vellte, constrained to take part in these petty civil wars, had been led on to greater and greater abuse, in his own city itself, of his municipal despotism, already grown hateful to many of his fellow-citizens. Whether he himself proposed to shake off the yoke of Count Louis of Flanders and take for Duke the Prince of Wales, or merely accepted King Edward's proposal, he set resolutely to work to get it carried. The most able men, swayed by their own passions and the growing necessities of the struggle in which they may be engaged, soon forget their first intentions and ignore their new perils. The consuls of Bruges and Ypres, present with Art de Vellte at his interview with King Edward in the port of Eccluse, Sleuth, answered that they could not decide so great a matter unless the whole community of Flanders should agree there, too, and so return to their cities. Art de Vellte followed them thither, and succeeded in getting the proposed resolution adopted by the people of Ypres and Bruges. But when he returned to Ghent on the twenty-fourth of July, 1345, those in the city who knew of his coming, says Froy Sard, had assembled in the street whereby he must ride to his hostel. So soon as they saw him they began to mutter, saying, There goes he who is too much master, and would feign do with the Countship of Flanders according to his own will, which cannot be borne. It had, besides this, been spread about the city that James Van Art de Vellte had secretly sent to England the great treasure of Flanders, which he had been collecting for the space of nine years and more, during which he had held the government. This was a matter which did greatly vex and incense them of Ghent. As James Van Art de Vellte rode along the street, he soon perceived that there was something fresh against him. For those who were want to bow down and take off their caps to him turned him a cold shoulder and went back into their houses. Then he began to be afraid, and so soon as he had dismounted his house he had all the doors and windows shut and barred. Scarcely had his barlets done so when the street in which he lived was covered front and back with folk, and chiefly small craftsfolk. His hostel was surrounded and beset, front and back, and broken into by force. Those within defended themselves a long while and overthrew and wounded many, but at last they could not hold out, for they were so closely assailed that nearly three quarters of the city were at this assault. When Art de Vellte saw the efforts of making and how hotly he was pressed, he came to a window over the street, and began to abase himself and say with much fine language, Good folks, what want ye? What is it that doth move ye? Wherefore are you so vexed at me? In what way can I have angered ye? Tell me, and I will mend it according to your wishes. Then all those who had heard him answered with one voice. We would have an account of the great treasure of Flanders which you have sent to England without right or reason. Art de Vellte answered full softly, Of assured he serves, I have never taken a denier from the treasury of Flanders. Go ye back quietly home, I pray you, and come again to-morrow morning. I shall be so well prepared to render ye a good account, that according to reason it cannot but content ye. Nay, nay, they answered with one voice, but we would have it at once. You shall not escape us so. We do know of a very clarity that you have taken it out and sent it away to England without our wit, for which cause you must needs die. When Art de Vellte heard this word he began to weep right piteously and said, Sirs, ye have made me what I am, and ye did swear to me a foretime that ye would guard and defend me against all men, and now ye would kill me and without a cause. You can do so, and if it please you, for I am but one single man against y'all, without any defense. Think hereon for God's sake and look back to bygone times. Consider the great courtesies and services that I have done ye. Know ye not how all trade had perished in this country? It was I who raised it up again. Afterwards I governed ye in peace, so great, that during the time of my government ye have had everything to your wish, grains, wools, and all sorts of merchandise, wherewith ye are well provided and in good case. Then they began to shout, Come down and preach not to us from such a height. We would have account and reckoning of the great treasure of Flanders, which ye have too long had under control without rendering an account, which it appertaineth not to any officer to do. When Artivelt saw that they would not cool down and would not restrain themselves, he closed the window and but thought him that he would escape by the back, and get him gone to a church adjoining his hostel. But his hostel was already burst open and broken into behind, and there were more than four hundred persons who were all anxious to seize him. At last he was caught amongst them and killed on the spot without mercy. A weaver called Thomas Dennis gave him his death blow. This was the end of Artivelt, who in his time was so great a master in Flanders. Poor folk exalted him at first, and wicked folk slew him at the last.