EDWARD III.
1327–1377.

As the conquest of England by Queen Isabella and Mortimer had been ostensibly undertaken for purposes of reform in the government, and freedom from the influence of favourites, the first measures taken were such as might befit a reforming party. The charters of liberty were solemnly renewed, and the removal of the more obvious abuses promised, the judgment against Lancaster and his friends was reversed, and the government nominally placed in the hands of a council of regency, formed of four Bishops, four Earls, and six Barons. Nevertheless, the real power remained in the hands of Mortimer; to him and to the Queen a considerable portion of the royal revenues were diverted, and before long all trace of reform had disappeared, and Mortimer, forgetful of the pretext which had secured him his position, and of the fate of his predecessors, became to all intents and purposes himself a favourite, giving to that word the meaning which best describes it, an irresponsible and all-powerful minister. He even surrounded himself, we are told, with a guard of 180 knights, and altogether adopted an ostentatious bearing which could not but create enemies; at the same time his connection with the Queen excited the displeasure of all respectable men.

His early government was rudely interrupted by an invasion from Scotland. The truce was not yet expired, but the opportunity was too good to be lost. To the English the renewal of war was distasteful, and measures were taken to avoid it. A meeting was arranged with the Scotch King, but the conclusion was so evidently foregone, that Robert summoned his army to assemble on the very day appointed for the meeting, and while the negotiations were still going on, the Scotch crossed the borders in force. The campaign against them was not successful. More used than the English to rapid movements, capable of living upon much less, and able to supply themselves with that little from an enemy’s country, the Scotch constantly avoided a great battle. Twice was Edward deceived by a simple stratagem of the Scotch, who left the watchfires burning, while they secretly decamped, and he was finally obliged to close the campaign without a battle. It became necessary for Mortimer and Edward to treat, and the Queen offered her daughter Jane as the price of peace. In March 1328, that peace was concluded; Robert’s son, David, was to marry Jane; the English were to use their best endeavours to have the ecclesiastical censures which hung over Bruce removed, and on the payment of £20,000, promised to give up all claims upon the Scotch crown, and to acknowledge Bruce as king.

Though the English nobles had long disliked the Scotch war, and had at all events made use of their pretended dislike as a weapon of opposition to the government, they now, with true party spirit, and moved probably more by dislike to Mortimer than by any patriotic feeling, declared themselves horrified at the disgraceful treaty, and held aloof from the Parliament which ratified it. Dislike to the government was in truth growing to a head. Associations were formed to uphold the ordinances of the last reign. At length, at a Parliament called at Salisbury, to be present at the creation of new peers—when Mortimer was made Earl of March; Prince John, Earl of Cornwall; and James Butler, Earl of Ormond—Prince Henry of Lancaster, the brother and successor of Earl Thomas, and other malcontents, refused to appear. Shortly afterwards it was heard that they were in arms at Winchester. The King’s uncles, the Earls of Kent and Norfolk, had hitherto supported Lancaster, but as Mortimer drew near with his army, they suddenly deserted him. This caused the failure of the insurrection, and Lancaster and his friends were obliged to submit to hard terms, purchasing their freedom with half their incomes, and the pledge that they would no longer oppose the government.

It is not to be supposed that this ineffectual insurrection put an end to the discontent. During the whole of the following year, while Edward was absent in France, rumours began to prevail that the old King was still alive, and in the Spring Parliament of 1330, the country was astonished by the sudden apprehension of Edmund, Earl of Kent, the King’s uncle. He and many other nobles, among others the Archbishop of York and Bishop of London, had undoubtedly joined in a conspiracy nominally for the restoration of the late King. The examinations made it evident that this insurrection had been fomented by the agents of Mortimer, and that Kent had fallen a victim to their machinations. He confessed his complicity in the scheme, and was beheaded. Mortimer doubtless was glad of the opportunity of thus weakening the party of his enemies. Among the petitions of the Commons in the first Parliament of the reign was one against the exactions of the royal Princes; this renders it probable that they had taken upon themselves to exact purveyance, and Mortimer might rely upon the popular feeling being with him in this act of violence.

But a more important enemy now made his appearance. Edward, who had been married to Philippa of Hainault in 1328, had now a son, afterwards the Black Prince, and therefore could not but feel that he had reached man’s estate. He was weary of the domination of Mortimer, and could hardly have looked with favour on the man who had killed his father and his uncle, and was now living in adultery with his mother. He determined to assume the reins of government, and, in alliance with the Barons, suddenly seized Mortimer during the sittings of the Parliament at Nottingham, and procured his speedy trial and execution. To the Queen he acted firmly but mercifully; he allowed her £3000 a year; he subsequently even increased this income, and during her lifetime paid her a yearly visit of ceremony, but he refused to allow her any influence in the government, and she passed the remaining twenty-seven years of her life in privacy at Risings Castle.

The young King was satisfied with the vengeance he had taken, and proceeded by acts of leniency to heal party feeling, restoring the forfeited inheritances to the sons of those who had lately suffered, and extending his kindness to the wives even of Mortimer, and Gournay his father’s murderer. He made common cause with those nobles who had hitherto been discontented. Henry of Lancaster became a prominent member of his council; the great seal was placed in the hands of John of Stratford, the author of the bill of deposition in the last reign.

Edward’s attention was almost immediately drawn to Scotland. Robert Bruce had died in 1329, leaving his son David still a child, so that the government fell into the hands of a succession of regents. Scotland had been so closely connected with England, that many barons held property in both kingdoms. During the war of independence, these properties had naturally been confiscated on both sides. At the peace of 1328 they should have been restored. On the part of Scotland this was not done. The party of Balliol and of Comyn was by no means extinct, and the disinherited lords gathered round Edward Balliol, the son of John, who thus became the head of a formidable body of men, whose interests were strongly opposed to the government of the Bruces. They suddenly determined on an expedition to restore if possible Balliol to the throne. Sailing from Ravenspur in Yorkshire, Balliol and his friends landed at the mouth of the Tay, defeated, with much loss, the Regent at the battle of Duplin, pushed onwards towards Perth, and, while his English ships annihilated the Scottish squadron in the river, was crowned at Scone; thus in seven weeks from the time he left England he had apparently secured the crown. His repulse was almost as rapid as his success. In three months the friends of Bruce had rallied, and Balliol, unable to make head against them, had been driven from the country.

Edward, while ostensibly discountenancing Balliol’s movement in England, had, in truth, determined to make use of his success; and a treaty was arranged between them, by which Balliol promised to own the supremacy of England and to give up Berwick, while the two kings were mutually to defend each other against all enemies. He made a show of deferring the question first to Parliament, and upon failing to obtain an answer, to the judgment of the Pope and the French King. But there were seldom wanting excuses for a war with Scotland. Border disturbances speedily arose, and in 1333, acknowledging the treaties he had made, he advanced to the siege of Berwick. Archibald Douglas, the then Regent, came with an army to relieve this important fortress. To oppose him the English had taken up a strong position to the west of their lines upon Halidon Hill. A swampy ground was before them, and as the Scotch knights fell into disorder in the marsh, the English archers “made their arrows flee as thick as motes on the sunne-beme.” It was in vain that the nobility bravely attempted to storm the hill. They were defeated with fearful loss, the Regent, four Earls, the prime of their nobility, and 30,000 common soldiers fell upon the field. On the following day Berwick opened its gates. Balliol proceeded to take possession of the kingdom; fortress after fortress fell; the young King David was taken to the Court of Philip VI. of France, and found refuge in Chateau Gaillard in Normandy. As the price of his assistance Edward received the oath of fealty from the Scotch, and the part of Scotland to the east of Dumfries and Linlithgow. As long as Edward was not otherwise employed, Balliol remained upon his throne; but events soon occurred abroad which called the English King away, and Balliol was again driven from his kingdom.

As early as 1329, on the death of Charles the Fair, the third and last of the sons of Philip IV., Edward, the son of the daughter of that King, laid claim to the French throne.[58] His rival was Philip of Valois, the son of Charles of Valois, Philip IV.’s brother, and, granting the existence of the Salic law, the undoubted heir; for all the three last kings had died without male issue. Edward’s claims then rested upon three principles; females were excluded from the French throne, or Joan, Queen of Navarre, daughter of Louis X., would have succeeded. The male issue of such females were not excluded; but, thirdly, they must be born during the lifetime of their grandfather, or else the children of the daughters of the three last kings would have a better claim than he had. The question had been properly tried by the Peers of France, and Philip of Valois had been declared King, and in 1331 Edward had himself done homage to him for Guienne. There was however a standing quarrel with regard to certain towns of the Agenois which Charles IV. had conquered. These, Edward understood, were to be restored to him, while Philip VI. declined to surrender them. This quarrel might perhaps have been passed over, but the reception of David on his flight from Scotland, and the assistance which Philip gave to the party opposed to Balliol, by degrees rendered war inevitable; and when once this became obvious, it was clearly good policy on the part of Edward to make his claims as national as possible, and instead of trusting to such secondary causes of hostility as were afforded by Philip’s refusal to surrender a few unimportant towns in a distant dependency, or his intrigues for the restoration of the Bruce dynasty, he at once, with the consent of Parliament, asserted his claim to the French throne.

There was at present in England a Frenchman whose influence is said to have had much to do with determining Edward to this step. This was Robert of Artois. On the death of his grandfather a dispute had arisen as to the succession of the country. The fief did not follow the ordinary feudal custom, but fell to the nearest of blood. Matilda, the daughter of the late Count, therefore succeeded in preference to her nephew Robert. Philip V. had married her daughter, and during his lifetime and that of his two brothers, Robert had been compelled to be content, but on the accession of Philip of Valois he demanded restitution. During the trial which ensued he produced as evidence charters which were proved to be forgeries, and in 1337 took refuge in England, where Edward adopted his cause, and used him as a sort of set-off to David Bruce, whose cause the French King had taken up. The great war with France was a distinct breach in the policy of Edward I. But the present King was not the great statesman his grandfather had been. A false chivalry had gradually been taking the place of the old feudal sentiment, and Edward was open to be moved both by the impulses of a spurious knight-errantry and by personal motives of ambition and passion. When once engaged in the war, however, he acted both energetically and prudently. His marriage with Philippa of Hainault, and the close commercial interdependence of England and the countries on the North-east of France, gave him an opening which he eagerly employed. He entered into alliances with the Princes of that neighbourhood, with Brabant, Gueldres, Juliers and Cologne. In Flanders, where the great mercantile cities were at enmity with their count, who was on his side supported by the French influence, he allied himself heartily with James Van Artevelt, the Brewer of Ghent, the acknowledged chief of the burgher party. He took advantage also of the fierce dispute at that time raging between the Emperor Louis of Bavaria and the Pope, who was a mere creature of the French crown, to secure not only the Emperor’s friendship but the title of Imperial Vicar. This title gave something of a national character to that alliance of German Princes which he had arranged. But all these alliances, though they promised so fair, were both expensive and hollow. In every case they assumed the form of subsidies, the foreigners promising to supply troops in exchange for English money. On the other hand, Philip, although unable to take actual possession, took seisin of Guienne, that is, he sent an officer to each of the great towns, and declared that he had taken possession of it. He had also, as was natural in the disturbed state of Germany, found some friends in that country.

Edward had set himself right in the eyes of his people by a public declaration of the state of affairs; and relying on the good feeling thus established, and on the favour of the mercantile classes, whose interests he had forwarded by his efforts, though often mistaken ones, to improve the growth and manufacture of wool, he proceeded to raise taxes with an unsparing hand. Not content with the subsidies granted him, he laid tallages on the towns, collected forced loans, induced Parliament to grant him half of the last wool crop, even seized large quantities of wool for which he promised to pay in the course of two years, and laid an extra tax of 40s. the sack on the cost of exportation. He thus obtained abundant money for his present need, although he found he had gone rather too far, when, in the following year, Parliament petitioned for the removal of the “Maletolte,” or additional wool tax.

In 1338 he landed with a large army in Flanders, where the people who had lately driven away their count, and were anxious to secure for their cities the monopoly of the English wool trade, received him gladly. But all his efforts came to nothing. He could not bring the French King to an engagement, and shortly became aware of the instability of his foreign allies; in spite of his title as Imperial Vicar they were little inclined to follow him, and speedily found pretexts to desert him. He had to retire to Flanders, but by no means lowered his tone. On the contrary, at the instigation of the people there, he now first took on himself the title of King of France. But he had now to return to England to collect fresh supplies. These were granted him freely, the Parliament giving him the ninth lamb, the ninth fleece, and the ninth sheaf. His back was no sooner turned than Philip began to attack Flanders, and with the aid of the Genoese collected a considerable fleet to prevent his return. On the 24th of June, the English fleet, with Edward on board, found the French at Sluys, where a great sea-fight took place, ending in the complete destruction of the French. They had fought in three lines, connected by chains, imitating as far as possible a land army. The English, after a little manœuvring, had fallen upon them thus huddled together, had thrown them into inextricable confusion, and driven many of the crews in their terror to seek refuge by leaping overboard. So great was the disaster, that none but the jester durst inform Philip of it. “What cowards those English are,” said he, “they had not the courage all to jump overboard as the French did.” In spite of this glorious beginning of the campaign, the year was as unfruitful as the last; simultaneous advances on St. Omer and Tournay both proved failures. Philip, who had been intriguing with the English allies, knew better than to come to a fight, and Edward was not sorry to conclude a truce at the instigation of Jane of Hainault, the sister of Philip. This truce, signed at Esplechin in September, was to last till the following midsummer, and comprehended the allies of both parties.

Edward’s position was most irritating; his allies were deserting him; in spite of his stringent exactions, his finances were exhausted; he was so deeply in debt that the Flemings, who regarded his presence as a security against France, kept him as it were in pledge. He could not bring himself to believe in such complete failure of his hopes. He was easily led to listen to evil counsellors, who whispered to him that his ministers at home were defrauding him in the matter of the taxes. Suddenly, he set sail with a few of his most trusted friends, leaving behind him some nobles in pledge to his creditors, and arrived in London in the dead of the night of the 30th of November. He immediately displaced his ministry, his Chancellor, his Treasurer, the Master of the Rolls, and imprisoned several of the judges and officers of the Exchequer. On the bishops he could not lay hands; they claimed the privileges of their order. However, commissions of inquiry were issued to find charges against the late government, new sheriffs were appointed, and, apparently in mistrust of clerical influence, Robert de Bourchier was appointed chancellor.

As had happened so frequently before in English history, the champion of liberty was found in the ranks of the Church. The President of the Council, John of Stratford, Archbishop of Canterbury, retired to his See, and thence wrote to Edward at length, refusing to answer to the charges brought against him, except before his peers in Parliament. At the same time he warned the King to remember his father’s fate, and begged him not to act as he was now doing against the Charter. He wrote also to the new officials, declaring that the late grants had been given under conditions which must not be broken, that they were to be collected only from those represented in Parliament, and not from the clergy who were not represented there, at the same time threatening with excommunication all who should disturb the peace of Church and State. In vain the King threatened; his want of money compelled him to summon a Parliament (April 23). An attempt was still made to exclude the Bishops. Whenever they appeared they were refused admittance to the Parliament, and directed to the Exchequer Chamber. At length the baronage grew thoroughly angry, and the King was compelled to admit the Archbishop, but at the same time left the House in anger, and betook himself to the Commons. The Peers were firm in their demand that no Peer should be tried except by his peers in Parliament. At last the King yielded. All the Estates joined in begging him to admit Stratford to his favour, and promising him in exchange for this submission assistance in his necessities. Large help was granted, and the rights claimed thrown into the form of a statute, securing the privilege of the peerage, the immunity of the clergy from the exactions of temporal officials, and ordering that at the beginning of each Parliament the great officers should temporarily resign their offices, to give time for an examination of their conduct. In October, the King having secured his grants, thought fit to revoke the statute, and was not ashamed to avow that he had “wilfully dissembled as he ought” to avoid the dangers which threatened him. The statute was cancelled in 1343, but the privileges then granted were not questioned.

As arranged, the truce with France continued till midsummer 1342. During that time Edward found that his German allies had completely left him, and that even Louis of Bavaria had been won over to Philip. This change in the Emperor’s policy was caused by a wish to obtain Philip’s mediation with his enemy the Pope. He excused it by urging that the treaty of Esplechin had been made without his consent. Thus left without allies, and impoverished by his late subsidies, which indeed, in the absence of money, he had in some instances been obliged to pay in raw wool, Edward might have been content to leave France alone, had he not obtained a new footing in Brittany. The war there was again a war of succession. John III. of Brittany had three brothers, Guy, Peter, and John Earl of Montfort. Guy and Peter died before their brother the Duke. Guy had a daughter, Jane, who as heir of the duchy had married Charles of Blois, the French King’s nephew. But upon the death of John, his sole surviving brother, John Earl of Montfort claimed the duchy, and did homage to Edward as King of France. The Peers of France adjudged the duchy to Charles of Blois, and the two kings armed in favour of their respective allies. Charles was at first successful, and took John of Montfort prisoner. The war was, however, carried on with enthusiasm by his wife, Jane of Flanders. She had the good wishes of the people, and held out during the winter in the fortress of Hennebone. She was almost reduced by famine, when the arrival of Sir Walter Manny, who was followed later in the year by Edward himself, raised the siege. But the country now became the battleground between England and France. Edward on the one hand, and the French King’s eldest son on the other, entered the duchy, but so little was effected, that at the end of the year a truce for three years and eight months was entered into, the matters at issue being referred to the Pope.

It is somewhat surprising to see how constantly the judgment of the Papal See is appealed to, even more frequently than in earlier times, when its authority was of greater weight. No doubt the spiritual position of the Popes had constantly been used as a means of interference in secular questions, and by mere force of encroachment the Pontiff had come to be regarded as the natural arbiter of Europe. But behind this there lay a more real ground for the exercise of the Papal authority. The Papal Curia had in fact inherited a certain portion of the powers and duties of the Roman Empire. During the vigour of Imperial institutions difficulties arising between various states included within the limits of the Empire were settled by the Emperor, who thus became the guardian of international law. When the Empire lost its universal character, and the German Kaiser (whatever vague notions of universal power may have hung about his title) became practically the sovereign only of a part of Europe, he lost the power of enforcing his decisions in the case of quarrels between Princes, who were in fact his equals. National quarrels must therefore have been settled by the sword alone, had not the Court of Rome, still claiming universality, still supplying trained lawyers and adequate courts, afforded an opportunity for continuing in some degree the system of international arbitration. The natural inclination of a spiritual power towards peace rendered still more easy this transfer to the Papacy of the guardianship of the international relations of Europe. The thirteenth century had been remarkable for its systematizing character. Powers, acknowledged by common practice and consent but not reduced to system, began to be defined; and as Edward I. in England and Philip IV. in France had brought into fixed and legal shape the lax constitutions of their several kingdoms, so Boniface VIII. had attempted to render Rome a formal court of appeal in all questions of international law. It was thus that we find Wallace and the guardians of Scotland appealing to Rome in their quarrel, and the Pope asserting his supremacy over the Scotch kingdom at the close of the reign of Edward I., and thus that we constantly find the Kings of Europe appealing to the decision of the Papal Curia.

But although the Papal See thus comes constantly forward as mediator in the quarrels of princes, and though cardinals were repeatedly charged with missions of peace in all directions, since the French had caused the overthrow of Boniface VIII. it had no longer its old influence or its old character. Seated at Avignon, the Pope was completely in the hands of the French King; while the rising spirit of freedom, the abuse of crusades which had been frequently employed against Christian princes, and the infinite exactions invented by the papal lawyers, had roused the temper of the people against him. The English Parliament, therefore, was doing a less difficult thing than the Parliament of Lincoln in Edward I.’s reign, when it insisted that the mediation specified in the treaty should be regarded only as that of a private man, without special authority or sanctity, and coupled even that modified acceptance of the offer with a strong protest against provisors. Having thus protested against the Pope, not without covert allusion to the King’s own connection with him, the people made grants, which were terribly wanted to save the King from his impoverished condition. The great Italian house of the Bardi was ruined by the great advances it made to him; the German merchants of the Steelyard, the only corporation of German merchants in London, had got a grant of much of the taxes; the subsidies, as we have seen, had been paid in raw wool, seized at the rate of £6 the sack, and sold at £20; the main point of Bishop Stratford’s defence had been that the enormous interest on the royal loans swallowed up at once all the money that was collected. But for the timely and liberal grants of the people the government must apparently have stopped. Meanwhile, the Pope was preparing his decision; but it was impossible to expect an honest verdict from him, and though, by the treaty, Philip should have restored his prisoners, he still kept De Montfort and others in prison.

It was plain that the war would soon be renewed. The Parliament in the year 1344 made their grants on the express understanding that this was the case, and that Scotland was waiting to join in the quarrel. In 1345 the expected event took place. The close connection between England and Artevelt has been mentioned. It was of the last importance to the Flemings that England should help them against their Count, and supply their looms with wool. Artevelt now offered to make the Prince of Wales Count of Flanders; and in all probability the attack upon France would have been in the old direction, had not a quarrel between the weavers and the fullers in the Flemish towns produced the murder of their great leader. It was in Gascony that the war actually broke out. Thither the Earl of Derby,[59] the son of Henry of Lancaster, had been sent, and he had there won a great victory over the French at Auberoche. He was soon, however, hard pressed by Philip’s eldest son, the Duke of Normandy, and driven to stand a siege in the fortress of Aiguillon, on the Garonne. Meanwhile, a great fleet and army had been collected, apparently for the purpose of relieving them. But while sailing down the Channel Edward suddenly changed his course, it is believed on the advice of Geoffrey of Harcourt, a French refugee, and landed at La Hogue in Normandy. His object was to draw the Duke of Normandy northward, and thus to relieve Derby, while he himself marched through France into Flanders, and joined his Flemish allies, who had already crossed the French frontiers. But in executing this manœuvre, Edward found all the bridges over the Seine broken, and the French King in force upon the other side, evidently desirous of hemming him in between his own army and that of his son advancing from the south. It was in vain that Edward pushed even to the suburbs of Paris, Philip would not be provoked to break his plan of the campaign. It became absolutely necessary for Edward to cross the river. A rapid feint upon Paris left the broken bridge of Poissy open. Edward hurried back, mended the bridge, and the river was passed.

The tables were now turned. It was the French King who wanted, Edward who avoided, battle. He pushed on, destroying the country as he went, till a fresh obstacle met him at the Somme. With Philip and his vastly superior army immediately in his rear, his position became critical. A peasant was induced to show him the ford of Blanchetaque, near Abbeville, where the river could be crossed. Even that ford was strongly defended, and only won after a sharp skirmish in the midst of the water. The returning tide checked the pursuit of the French, and enabled Edward, who had at length determined to bring matters to a decisive issue, to choose his ground in the neighbourhood of Cressy.[60] There was fought the first of that great series of battles, in which the small armies of the English showed themselves superior to overwhelming numbers of French.

The cause of this superiority lay partly in the skill of the English archers, but still more in the practised discipline of regular volunteer soldiers, when opposed to an army still formed upon the feudal model. The wars with the Scotch had taught the English a lesson they had not been slow to learn. Edward I. had been a soldier of the old school; the strength of his armies had always consisted in the heavy armed cavalry, in which man and horse had been laden with defensive armour to the utmost limits of their capacity; the infantry had been entirely a secondary consideration. But Wallace had proved at Cambuskenneth, and (even though defeated) at Falkirk, the power of resistance which resides in firmly arranged bodies of infantry. Bruce at Bannockburn had shown still more plainly the weakness of heavy cavalry upon ground not exactly suited for their particular form of fighting. Edward III.’s chief claim to greatness as a soldier rests on the readiness and skill with which he adopted the idea supplied him by Bruce and Wallace. The difficulties of keeping together a feudal array during a lengthened foreign campaign, the comparative cheapness of an equipment of foot-soldiers, the increasing number of freemen not employed upon the soil, were all likewise inducements to change the character of the army. The cavalry employed in the French wars was insignificant in comparison to the infantry. The midland counties supplied the army with archers, Wales with ordinary infantry. This change in the army, itself in part the fruit of social growth, reacted on society. Regular hired troops required trained commanders; and there thus grew up a class of professional soldiers, whose existence dealt a heavy blow to the hitherto unquestioned superiority of the feudal leaders.

The hired army of the English, and the professional soldiers who commanded them, formed a far more efficient body of troops than was supplied by the feudal levies and noble leaders of the French. The English were arranged in three divisions, the foremost of which was nominally commanded by the Prince of Wales. From the summit of the hill, Edward had a general survey of the field. As usual, the archers began the battle; their flights of arrows threw the Genoese crossbow-men, to whom they were opposed, into confusion. The confusion once begun, the very numbers of the French did but add to it. The Duke of Alençon, and the Count of Flanders, with their followers, cut their way through their own troops before they could reach the English men-at-arms. While these successfully held their ground, the remaining masses of the French were decimated by the English arrows, nor could any sufficient support be given to Alençon. At length, as night closed in, Philip left the field, and the further disconnected efforts of individual French commanders were useless. The English could hardly believe their good fortune, and Edward, fearing a return of their enemies, kept them under arms during the night. The loss of the French was enormous; the heralds appointed to examine the field reported the death of eleven princes, 1200 knights, and 30,000 of inferior rank. The English had killed considerably more than their own numbers; but their little army was quite insufficient to advance into France, and Edward, following his original plan, marched on to the siege of Calais.

The battle was on the 26th of August. Already some days before, Lionel of Clarence, who had been left in command of England, had summoned troops for the defence of the Scotch border; and Philip now wrote strongly to David, begging him to make a diversion. David was not sorry to answer to the call. Cumberland was overrun, and the Bishopric of Durham; but the English levies, inspirited by the courageous language of the Queen, and under the joint command of the Percies and Nevilles, defeated him completely at Neville’s Cross, David himself being taken prisoner. The battle of Cressy had relieved the Earl of Derby, who was again overrunning the south-west of France. The year closed in triumph for the English arms in all directions.

This year of success was shortly crowned by the fall of Calais. Edward had attacked that city by way of blockade, shutting his army round it, and guarding the approaches by the sea with his ships. All the efforts of the French King to relieve it had been useless, and the slow process of famine at length obliged its defenders to surrender. The inhabitants had not been free from the usual crime of seafaring life at that time—they were the rivals in piracy of the Cinque Ports and St. Malo. They had but little mercy to expect from the King. Eustace de St. Pierre, an important citizen, offered to give himself up, with a certain number of friends, to bear the first brunt of the King’s anger, hoping thereby to save his fellow-citizens. Barefooted and bareheaded, with ropes round their necks, Eustace, with his devoted friends, appeared before the King. Irritated with the long defence of the town, and their former misdeeds, Edward would hear of no mercy; it was only at the urgent prayer of Queen Philippa that the lives of the deputation were spared. The advantages of the possession of Calais were obvious. It afforded an excellent entrance into France in the immediate neighbourhood of the King’s Flemish allies, and supplied him also with a good central mart for the national commerce, which in the existing state of trade was a thing much desired. The inhabitants were therefore given their choice of being French or English; those who refused to become English were expelled, and their places occupied by English colonists, and the whole “staple”[61] trade of England was for a certain number of years confined to this town, which accordingly became prosperous.

It is somewhat strange to observe the smallness of the effect of the late great victories. Edward seemed no nearer his objects than before he had won them. The exhaustion of his own kingdom was almost equal to that of France, and shortly after the fall of Calais, a truce was made for a few months, and afterwards from time to time extended. One cause, no doubt, of the general quietness which prevailed at this time in Europe was the presence of the Black Death, a terrible scourge, which, after passing over Europe, reached England in 1349. Its ravages were fearful. It is calculated that at least a third, if not a half, of the whole population of England was swept away. Such calculations are based partly upon the mortality among the clergy: more than one half of the priests in Yorkshire died, more than two-thirds of the beneficed clergy of Norfolk. In Norwich alone 60,000 people are said to have perished. So fearful a plague unavoidably changed the whole relation between employer and employed, and while famine was threatening the country, while farms could no longer be worked or harvests gathered for want of hands, there was a natural disinclination to continue the war.

It was not, therefore, till the year 1355 that the war was renewed. Meanwhile, Philip of Valois had died, and been succeeded by his son John, and at the instigation of the Pope, following his usual pacific course, in 1354, a treaty had been set on foot. Edward, regarding his claim to the French throne as hopeless, was willing to accept a peace, if the French King would give him the province of Aquitaine in full sovereignty. English plenipotentiaries appeared at Guisnes ready to conclude the treaty, but the French envoys then declared that they would never surrender a fragment of the French sovereignty.

Edward had no choice, therefore, but to renew the war. He now possessed two points whence an attack on France was easy; while he pushed out from Calais, the Black Prince was to lead an army from Bordeaux. As so often happened upon the northern frontier, the operations were without fruit; and the King was hastily recalled to England by the news that the Scots had surprised Berwick, and were over the Borders. The Black Prince’s expedition was more successful. He marched at the foot of the Pyrenees, and all through Languedoc to Narbonne, and to Carcassonne, plundering and burning in all directions, destroying in seven weeks more than five hundred towns or villages. Such brutal and destructive war had indeed become habitual to the English.

The King’s return checked the advance of the Scots. Purchasing the property and rights of Edward Balliol, he advanced into the country, determined to treat it as a land of rebels. He systematically destroyed every building, and laid waste the country for twenty miles from the coast. But his severity was of no avail; famine again drove him home, and the Scots again hung upon his retreating forces. The following year the Black Prince attempted a repetition of his last exploit. But he now pressed northwards, and had reached the neighbourhood of Poitiers, when the news that a large French army was near forced upon him the danger of his situation, thus wholly separated from his base of operations. The army which threatened him was commanded by King John in person, and all the French princes were with him. So irresistible did it seem, that Edward would have listened to any good terms, but John would hear of nothing but unconditional surrender, and the English, remembering their success at Cressy, determined to fight. Again, what was regarded as their extraordinary good fortune, but which was no doubt their superior organization, secured them complete victory. On a piece of ground difficult of access, except by a narrow road exposed to the fire of the archers, and covered by enclosed country, the hedges of which were lined by the same class of troops, he awaited the assault of the French. The consequences can be easily conceived. The heavy armed Frenchmen in the road formed a target for the arrows; the confined space encumbered with wounded men and horses made the confusion irremediable. The first body of the French being thus disposed of, the Black Prince with his men-at-arms attacked the second, while the third, alarmed by a flank attack of six hundred English horse whom the Prince had detached for that purpose, left the field. Between the Prince and the second body of the French the conflict was a fierce one. It eventually terminated in the complete victory of the English, and the capture of King John.