 CHAPTER XXII CHAPTER XXII THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR Charles V. VI. The war thus renewed was hotly prosecuted on both sides. A sentiment of nationality became, from day to day, more keen and more general in France. At the commencement of hostilities it burst forth particularly in the north. The burgers of Abbeville opened their gates to the Count of St. Poix, and in a single wink St. Valarie, Quartoy, and all the places in the Countship of Pont-Thos followed this example. The movement made progress before long in the south. Montauban and Millhault hoisted on their walls the royal standard. The Archbishop of Toulouse went riding through the hull of Quercie, preaching and demonstrating the good cause of the King of France, and he converted, without striking a blow, Cahors and more than sixty towns, castles, or fortresses. Charles V. neglected no means of encouraging and keeping up the public impulse. It has been remarked that, as early as the ninth of May, 1369, he had convoked the State General, declaring to them in person that if they considered that he had done anything he ought not, they should say so, and he would amend it, for there was still time for reparation if he had done too much or not enough. He called a new meeting on the seventh of December, 1369, after the explosion of hostilities, and obtained from them the most extensive subsidies they had ever granted. They were a staunch to the King in principle as in purse, and their interpretations of the Treaty of Bretagne went far beyond the grounds which Charles had put forward to justify war. It was not only on the upper classes and on political minds that the King endeavored to act. He paid attention also to popular impressions. He set on foot in Paris a series of processions, in which he took part in person, and the Queen also, barefoot and unsandled, to pray God to graciously give heed to the doings and affairs of the Kingdom. But at the same time that he was thus making his appeal, throughout France and by every means, to the feeling of nationality, Charles remained faithful to the rule of conduct which had been inculcated in him by the experience of his youth. He recommended, nay, he commanded all his military captains to avoid any general engagement with the English. It was not without great difficulty that he wrung obedience from the feudal nobility, whom more numerous very often than the English looked upon such a prohibition as an insult, and sometimes withdrew to their castles rather than submit to it, and even the King's brother, Philip the Bold, openly in burgundy testified his displeasure at it. Dugousclin, having more intelligence and firmness, even before becoming constable, and at the moment of quitting the duke of Anjouet to lose, had advised him not to accept battle, to well fortify all the places that had been recovered, and to let the English scatter and waste themselves in a host of small expeditions and distant skirmishes constantly renewed. When once he was constable, Dugousclin put determinately in practice the King's maxim, calmly confident in his own fame for valor whenever he had to refuse to yield to the impatience of his comrades. This detached an indecisive war lasted eight years, with a medley of more or less serious incidents which, however, did not change its character. In thirteen-seventy the Prince of Wales laid siege to Limoge, which had opened its gates to the duke of Barry. He was already so ill that he could not mount his horse, and had himself carried in a litter from post to post, to follow up and direct the operations of the siege. In spite of a month's resistance the Prince took the place, and gave it up as a prey to a mob of reckless plunderers, whose excesses were such that Froysart himself, a spectator generally so indifferent, and leaning rather to the English, was deeply shocked. There, said he, was a great pity, for men, women, and children threw themselves on their knees before the Prince and cried, Mercy, gentle sir! But he was so inflamed with passion that he gave no heed, and none, male or female, was listened to, but all were put to the sword. There is no heart so hard, but, if present then at Limoge and not forgetful of God, would have wept bitterly, for more than three thousand persons, men, women, and children, were there beheaded on that day. May God receive their souls, for verily they were martyrs. The massacre of Limoge caused, throughout France, a feeling of horror and indignant anger towards the English name. In 1373 an English army landed at Calais, under the command of the Duke of Lancaster, and overran nearly the whole of France, being incessantly harassed, however, without ever being attacked in force, and without mastering a single fortress. Let them be, was the saying in the King's circle, when a storm bursts out in a country, it leaves off afterwards and disperses of itself, and so will it be with these English. The sufferings and reverses of the English armies on this expedition were such, that of thirty thousand horses which the English had landed at Calais, they could not muster more than six thousand at Bordeaux, and had lost a full third of their men and more. There were seen noble knights, who had great possessions in their own country, toiling along a foot, without armour, and begging their bread from door to door without getting any. Invane did Edward III treat with the Duke of Brittany and the King of Navarre in order to have their support in this war. The Duke of Brittany, John IV, after having openly defied the King of France, his Souseran, was obliged to fly to England, and the King of Navarre entered upon negotiations alternately with Edward III and Charles V, being always ready to betray either, according to what suited his interests at the moment. Tired of so many ineffectual efforts, Edward III was twice obliged, between 1375 and 1377, to conclude with Charles V a truce, just to give the two peoples, as well as the two kings, breathing time, but the truces were as vain as the petty combats for the purpose of putting an end to this great struggle. The great actors in this historical drama did not know how near were the days when they would be called away from this arena, still so crowded with their exploits or their reverses. A few weeks after the massacre of Limoges, the Prince of Wales lost, at Bordeaux, his eldest son, six years old, whom he loved with all the tenderness of a veteran warrior, so much the more affected by gentle impressions as they were a rarity to him, and he was himself so ill that his doctors advised him to return to England, his own land, saying that he would probably get better health there. Accordingly he left France, which he would never see again, and on returning to England, he, after a few months rest in the country, took an active part in Parliament in the home policy of his country, and supported the opposition against the government of his father, who since the death of the Queen, Philippa of Honolte, had been treating England to the spectacle of a scandalous old age closing a life of glory. Parliamentary contests soon exhausted the remaining strength of the Black Prince, and he died on the 8th of June, 1376, in possession of a popularity that never shifted, and was deserved by such qualities as showed in nature, great indeed, and generous, though often sully by the fits of passion of a character harsh even to ferocity. The good fortune of England, says his contemporary Walsingham, seemed bound up with his person, for it flourished when he was well, fell off when he was ill, and vanished at his death. As long as he was on the spot the English feared neither the foes' invasion nor the meeting on the battlefield, but with him died all their hopes. A year after him, on the 21st of June, 1377, died his father, Edward III, a king who had been able, glorious, and fortunate for nearly half a century, but had fallen, towards the end of his life, into contempt with his people, and into forgetfulness on the continent of Europe, where nothing was heard about him beyond whispers of an indolent old man's indulgent weaknesses to please a covetous mistress. Whilst England thus lost her two great chiefs, France still kept hers. For three years longer Charles V and Dugouce Glam remained at the head of her government and her armies. The truce between the two kingdoms was still in force, when the Prince of Wales died, and Charles, ever careful to practice nightly courtesy, had a solemn funeral service performed for him in the Saint-Chapel, but the following year, at the death of Edward III, the truce had expired. The Prince of Wales's young son, Richard II, succeeded his grandfather, and Charles, on the accession of a king who was a minor, was anxious to reap all the advantage he could hope from that fact. The war was pushed forward vigorously, and a French fleet, cruised on the coast of England, ravaged the Isle of Wight, and burned Yarmouth, Dartmouth, Plymouth, Wintelsea, and Luz. What Charles passionately desired was the recovery of Calais. He would have made considerable sacrifices to obtain it, and in the seclusion of his closet he displayed an intellect activity in his efforts, by war or diplomacy, to attain his end. He had, says Froyce Art, couriers going a horse-back night and day, who from one day to the next brought him news from eighty or a hundred leagues' distance, by help of relays posted from town to town. This labor of the king had no success. On the whole the war prosecuted by Charles V between Edward III's death and his own had no result of importance. The attempt by law and arms which he made in 1378, to make Brittany his own and to reunite it to the crown, completely failed, thanks to the passion with which the Bretons, nobles, burgesses, and peasants were attached to their country's independence. Charles V actually ran a risk of embroiling himself with the hero of his reign. He had ordered Dugus Klan to reduce to submission the Countship of Wren, his native land, and he showed some temper because the Constable not only did not succeed, but advised him to make peace with the Duke of Brittany and his party. Dugus Klan, grievously hurt, sent to the king his sword of Constable, adding that he was about to withdraw to the court of Castile, to Henry of Transdomar, who would show more appreciation of his services. All Henry V's wisdom did not preserve him from one of those deeds of haughty levity which the handling of sovereign power sometimes causes even the wisest kings to commit, but reflection made him promptly acknowledge and retrieve his fault. He charged the dukes of Anjou and Bourbon to go and, for his sake, conjure Dugus Klan to remain his Constable, and though some chroniclers declare that Dugus Klan refused, his will, dated the 9th of July, 1380, leads to a contrary belief, for in it he assumes the title of Constable of France, and this will precede the hero's death by only four days. Having fallen sick before Chateauneuf Rendon, a place he was besieging in the Gavardin, Dugus Klan expired on the 13th of July, 1380, at sixty-six years of age, and his last words were an exhortation to the veteran captains around him, never to forget that, in whatsoever country they might be making war, churchmen, women, children, and the poor people were not their enemies. According to certain contemporary chronicles, or one might almost say, legends, Chateauneuf Rendon was to be given up the day after Dugus Klan died. The Marshal de Saint-Sère, who commanded the King's army, summoned the Governor to surrender the place to him, but the Governor replied that he had given his word to Dugus Klan and would surrender to no other. He was told of the Constable's death. Very well, he rejoined, I will carry the keys of the town to his tomb. To this the Marshal agreed. The Governor marched out of the place at the head of his garrison, passed through the besieging army, went and knelt down before Dugus Klan's corpse, and actually laid the keys of Chateauneuf Rendon on his beer. This traumatic story is not sufficiently supported by authentic documents to be admitted as an historical fact, but there is to be found in an old chronicle concerning Dugus Klan, published for the first time at the end of the fifteenth century, and in a new edition by M. Francis Michel in 1830, a story which, in spite of many discrepancies, confirms the principal fact of the keys of Chateauneuf Rendon being brought by the garrison to the beer. At the decease of Sir Bertrand, says the chronicler, a great cry arose throughout the host of the French. The English refused to give up the castle. The Marshal, Louis de Saint-Sère, had the hostages brought to the ditches for to have their heads struck off. But forthwith the people in the castle lowered their bridge and the captain came and offered the keys to the Marshal, who refused them, and said to him, Friends, you have your agreements with Sir Bertrand, and ye shall fulfill them to him. God the Lord, said the captain, you know well that Sir Bertrand, who was so much worth, is dead. How, then, should we surrender to him in this castle? Fairly, Lord Marshal, you do demand our dishonor when you would have us in our castle surrendered to a dead night. No needs parlay hereupon, said the Marshal, but do it at once, for if you put forth more words, short will be the life of your hostages. Well did the English see that it could not be otherwise, so they went forth all of them from their castle, their captain in front of them, and came to the Marshal, who led them to the hostel where lay Sir Bertrand, and made them give up the keys and place them on his beer, sobbing the while. Let all know that there was nor night, nor squire, French or English, who showed not great mourning. The body of Dugousclan was carried to Paris to be interred at St. Denis, hard by the tomb which Charles V had ordered to be made for himself, and nine years afterwards, in 1389, Charles V's successor, his son Charles VI, caused to be celebrated in the Breton warrior's honour a fresh funeral, at which the princes and grandees of the kingdom and the young king himself were present in state. The Bishop of Ouxair delivered the funeral oration over the constable, and a poet of the time, giving an account of the ceremony, says, The tears of princes fell, what time the bishop said, Sir Bertrand loved you well, weep warriors for the dead, the knell of sorrow tolls, for deeds that were so bright, God save all Christian souls, and his the gallant night. The life, character, and name of Bertrand Dugousclan were, and remained, one of the most popular, patriotic, and legitimate boasts of the Middle Ages, then at their decline. Two months after the constable's death, on the 16th of September 1380, Charles V died at the castle of Butzumon, near Viscennes, at forty-three years of age, quite young still after so stormy and hardworking a life. His contemporaries were convinced, and he was himself convinced, that he had been poisoned by his perfidious enemy, King Charles of Navarre. His uncle, Charles VI, Emperor of Germany, had sent him an able doctor, who set him in good case and in manly strength, says Froycarte, by affecting a permanent issue in his arm. When this little sore said he to him, shall cease to discharge and shall dry up, you will die without help for it, and you will have at the most fifteen days' leisure to take counsel and thought for the soul. When the issue began to dry up, Charles knew that death was at hand, and like a wise and valiant man as he was, says Froycarte, he set in order all his affairs, and sent for his three brothers, in whom he had most confidence, the Duke of Barry, the Duke of Burgundy, and the Duke of Bourbon, and he left in the lurch his second brother, the Duke of Anjou, because he considered him to covetous. My dear brothers, said the King to them, I feel and know full well that I have not long to live. I do commend and give in charge to you, my son, Charles. Behave to him as good uncles should behave to their nephew. Crown him as soon as possible after my death, and counsel him loyally in all his affairs. The lad is young, and of a volatile spirit. He will need to be guided and governed by good doctrine. Teach him or have him taught all the kingly points and states he will have to maintain, and marry him in such lofty station that the kingdom may be the better for it. Thank God the affairs of our kingdom are in good case. The Duke of Brittany, John IV, called the valiant, is a crafty and slippery man, and he hath ever been more English than French, for which reasons keep the nobles of Brittany in the good towns affectionate, and you will thus thwart his intentions. I am fond of the Britons, for they have ever served me loyally, and help to keep and defend my kingdom against my enemies. Make the Lord Cleison constable, for all things considered I see none more competent for it than he. As to those aides and taxes of the kingdom of France, wherewith the poorer folks are so burdened and aggrieved, deal with them according to your conscience, and take them off as soon as ever you can, for they are things which, although I have upheld them, do grieve me and weigh upon my heart. But the great wars and matters which we have had on all our sides caused me to countenance them. Of all the dying speeches and confessions of kings to their family and their counselors, that which has just been put forward is the most practical, concise, and simple. Charles V, taking upon his shoulders at nineteen years of age, first as king's lieutenant and as dauphin, and afterwards as regent, the government of France employed all his soul and his life in repairing the disasters arising from the wars of his predecessors and preventing any repetition. No sovereign was ever more resolutely pacific. He carried prudence even into the very practice of war, as was proved by his forbidding his generals to venture any general engagement with the English, so great a lesson and so deep an impression had he derived from the defeats of Cressy and Poitiers, and the causes which led to them. But without being a warrior and without running any hazardous risks, he made himself respected and feared by his enemies. Never was there king, said Edward III, who handled arms less, and never was there king who gave me so much to do. And more favourable circumstances led Charles to believe that the day had come for setting France free from the cruel conditions which had been imposed upon her by the Treaty of Bretany. He entered without hesitation upon that war of patriotic reparation, and after the death of his two powerful enemies, Edward III and the Black Prince, he was still prosecuting it, not without chance of success, when he himself died of the malady with which he had for a long while been afflicted. At his death he left in the royal treasury a surplus of seventeen million francs, a large sum for those days. Nor the labours of government, nor the expenses of war, nor farsighted economy had prevented him from showing a serious interest in learned works and studies, and from giving effectual protection to the men who devoted themselves there too. The University of Paris, notwithstanding the embarrassments it sometimes caused him, was always the object of his good will. "'He was a great lover of wisdom,' says Christine de Pisson, and when certain folks murmured for that he honoured clerks so highly, he answered, "'So long as wisdom is honoured in this realm, it will continue in prosperity, but when wisdom is thrust aside it will go down.'" He collected nine hundred and fifty volumes, the first foundation of the royal library, which were deposited in a tower of the Louvre, called the Library Tower, and of which he in 1373 had an inventory drawn up by his personal attendant, Gilles de Presse. His taste for literature and science was not confined to collecting manuscripts. He had a French translation made, for the sake of spreading a knowledge thereof, of the Bible in the first place, and then of several works of Aristotle, of Livy, of Allerius Maximus, of Agitius, and of St. Augustine. He was fond of industry and the arts as well as of literature. Henry de Vique, a German clockmaker, constructed for him the first public clock ever seen in France, and it was placed in what was called the Clock Tower in the Palace of Justice, and the King even had a clockmaker by appointment named Peter de Saint-Beth. Several of the Paris Monuments, churches, or buildings for public use were undertaken or completed under his care. He began the building of the Bastille, that fortress which was then so necessary for the safety of Paris, where it was to be, four centuries later, the object of the wrath and earliest excesses on the part of the populace. Charles the Wise, from whatever point of view he may be regarded, is, after Louis the Fat, Philip Augustus, Saint Louis, and Philip the Handsome, the fifth of those kings who powerfully contributed to the settlement of France and Europe, and of the kingship in France. He was not the greatest nor the best, but perhaps the most honestly able. And at the same time he was a signal example of the shallowness and insufficiency of human abilities. Charles the Fifth, on his deathbed, considered that the affairs of his kingdom were in good case. He had not even a suspicion of the chaos of war, anarchy, reverses and ruin, into which they were about to fall, in the reign of his son, Charles the Sixth. CHAPTER XXII END OF VOLUME II OF A POPULAR HISTORY OF FRANCE FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES BY FRANCE WAGUIZAU TRANSLATED BY ROBERT PLACK