of his army did the same, confessed, and made suitable preparations. After mass the king ordered his men to arm themselves, and assemble on the ground he had before selected. He had enclosed a large park near a wood in the rear of his army, in which he placed all his baggage-wagons and horses; and this park had but one entrance. His men at arms and archers remained on foot.
The king afterwards ordered, through his constable and his two marshals that the army should be divided into three battalions. In the first he placed the young Prince of Wales, and with him the Earls of Warwick and Oxford, Sir Godfrey de Harcourt, the Lord Reginald Cobham, Lord Thomas Holland, Lord Stafford, Lord Manley, the Lord Delaware, Sir John Chandos, Lord Bartholomew Burgherst, Lord Robert Neville, Lord Thomas Clifford, the Lord Bourchier, the Lord Latimer, and many other knights and squires whom I cannot name. There might be in this first division about eight hundred men at arms, two thousand archers, and a thousand Welshmen. They advanced in regular order to their ground, each lord under his banner and pennon, and in the centre of his men. In the second battalion were the Earl of Northampton, the Earl of Arundel, the Lords Ross, Willoughby, Basset, St. Albans, Sir Lewis Tufton, Lord Multon, the Lord Loccels, and many others; amounting in all to about eight hundred men at arms and twelve hundred archers. The third battalion was commanded by the king, and was composed of about seven hundred men at arms and two thousand archers.
The king then mounted a small palfrey, having a white wand in his hand, and attended by his two marshals on each side of him: he rode a foot’s pace through all the ranks, encouraging and entreating the army that they would guard his honor, and defend his right. He spoke this so sweetly, and with such a cheerful countenance, that all who had been dispirited were directly comforted by seeing and hearing him. When he had thus visited all the battalions, it was near ten o’clock: he retired to his own division, and ordered them all to eat heartily, and drink a glass after.
They ate and drank at their ease; and, having packed up pots, barrels, &c., in the carts, they returned to their battalions, according to the marshals’ orders, and seated themselves on the ground, placing their helmets and bows before them, that they might be the fresher when their enemies should arrive.
THAT same Saturday the King of France rose betimes, and heard mass in the monastery of St. Peter’s in Abbeville, where he was lodged. Having ordered his army to do the same, he left that town after sunrise. When he had marched about two leagues from Abbeville, and was approaching the enemy, he was advised to form his army in order of battle, and to let those on foot march forward, that they might not be trampled on by the horses. The king upon this sent off four knights, the Lord Moyne of Bosthberg, the Lord of Noyer, the Lord of Beaujeu, and the Lord of Aubigny, who rode so near to the English that they could clearly make out their position. The English plainly perceived that they were come to reconnoitre them: however, they took no notice of it, but suffered them to return unmolested. When the King of France saw them coming back, he halted his army; and the knights, pushing through the crowds, came near the king, who said to them, “My lords, what news?” They looked at each other without opening their mouths, for neither chose to speak first. At last the king addressed himself to the Lord Moyne, who was attached to the King of Bohemia, and had performed very many gallant deeds, so that he was esteemed one of the most valiant knights in Christendom. The Lord Moyne said, “Sir, I will speak, since it pleases you to order me, but under the correction of my companions. We have advanced far enough to reconnoitre your enemies. Know, then, that they are drawn up in three battalions, and are waiting for you. I would advise, for my part (submitting, however, to better counsel), that you halt your army here, and quarter them for the night; for before the rear shall come up, and the army be properly drawn out, it will be very late, your men will be tired and in disorder, while they will find your enemies fresh and properly arrayed. On the morrow you may draw up your army more at your ease, and may reconnoitre at leisure as to the part where it will be most advantageous to begin the attack; for be assured they will wait for you.” The king commanded that it should be so done; and the two marshals rode, one toward the front and the other toward the rear, crying out, “Halt banners, in the name of God and St. Denis!” Those that were in the front halted; but those behind said they would not halt until they were as far forward as the front. When the front perceived the rear pressing on, they pushed forward; and neither the king nor the marshals could stop them, but they marched without any order until they came in sight of their enemies. As soon as the foremost rank saw them, they fell back at once in great disorder; which alarmed those in the rear, who thought they had been fighting. There was then space and room enough for them to have passed forward, had they been willing: some did so, but others remained shy. All the roads between Abbeville and Crecy were covered with common people, who, when they were come within three leagues of their enemies, drew their swords, bawling out, “Kill, kill!” and with them were many great lords that were eager to make show of their courage. There is no man, unless he had been present, that can imagine, or describe truly, the confusion of that day; especially the bad management and disorder of the French, whose troops were beyond number. What I know, and shall relate in this book, I have learned chiefly from the English,—who had well observed the confusion they were in,—and from those attached to Sir John of Hainault, who was always near the person of the King of France.
THE English, who were drawn up in three divisions and seated on the ground, seeing their enemies advance, rose undauntedly up, and fell into their ranks. That of the prince was the first to do so, whose archers were formed in the manner of a portcullis, or harrow, and the men at arms in the rear. The Earls of Northampton and Arundel, who commanded the second division, had posted themselves in good order on his wing to succor the prince, if necessary.
You must know that these kings, earls, barons, and lords of France did not advance in any regular order, but one after the other, or any way most pleasing to themselves. As soon as the King of France came in sight of the English, his blood began to boil, and he cried out to his marshals, “Order the Genoese forward, and begin the battle, in the name of God and St. Denis!” There were about fifteen thousand Genoese crossbow-men; but they were quite fatigued, having marched on foot that day six leagues, completely armed and with their crossbows. They told the constable they were not in a fit condition to do any great things that day in battle. The Earl of Alençon, hearing this, said, “This is what one gets by employing such scoundrels, who fall off when there is any need for them.” During this time a heavy rain fell, accompanied by thunder and a very terrible eclipse of the sun; and before this rain a great flight of crows hovered in the air over all those battalions, making a loud noise. Shortly afterwards it cleared up, and the sun shone very bright; but the Frenchmen had it in their faces, and the English at their backs. When the Genoese were somewhat in order, and approached the English, they set up a loud shout in order to frighten them; but they remained quite still, and did not seem to attend to it. They then set up a second shout, and advanced a little forward; but the English never moved.
They hooted a third time, advancing with their crossbows presented, and began to shoot. The English archers then advanced one step forward, and shot their arrows with such force and quickness, that it seemed as if it snowed. When the Genoese felt these arrows, which pierced their arms, heads, and through their armor, some of them cut the strings of their crossbows, others flung them on the ground, and all turned about and retreated quite discomfited. The French had a large body of men at arms on horseback, richly dressed, to support the Genoese. The King of France, seeing them thus fall back, cried out, “Kill me those scoundrels; for they stop up our road, without any reason.” Then you should have seen the above-mentioned men at arms lay about them, killing all they could of these runaways.
The English continued shooting as vigorously and quickly as before. Some of their arrows fell among the horsemen, who were sumptuously equipped, and, killing and wounding many, made them caper and fall among the Genoese, so that they were in such confusion they could never rally again. In the English army there were some Cornish and Welshmen on foot, who had armed themselves with large knives: these, advancing through the ranks of the men at arms and archers, who made way for them, came upon the French when they were in this danger, and, falling upon earls, barons, knights, and squires, slew many; at which the King of England was afterwards much displeased. The valiant King of Bohemia was slain there. He was called Charles of Luxembourg, for he was the son of the gallant king and emperor Henry of Luxembourg. Having heard the order of the battle, he inquired where his son the Lord Charles was: his attendants answered that they did not know, but believed he was fighting. The king said to them, “Gentlemen, you are all my people, my friends and brethren at arms this day: therefore, as I am blind, I request of you to lead me so far into the engagement that I may strike one stroke with my sword.” The knights replied, they
would directly lead him forward; and, in order that they might not lose him in the crowd, they fastened all the reins of their horses together, and put the king at their head, that he might gratify his wish, and advanced toward the enemy. The Lord Charles of Bohemia, who already signed his name as King of Germany, and bore the arms, had come in good order to the engagement; but, when he perceived that it was likely to turn out against the French, he departed, and I do not well know what road he took. The king his father rode in among the enemy, and made good use of his sword; for he and his companions fought most gallantly. They advanced so far that they were all slain; and on the morrow they were found on the ground, with their horses all tied together.
The Earl of Alençon advanced in regular order upon the English, to fight with them, as did the Earl of Flanders in another part. These two lords with their detachments, coasting, as it were, the archers, came to the prince’s battalion, where they fought valiantly for a length of time. The King of France was eager to march to the place where he saw their banners displayed; but there was a hedge of archers before him. He had that day made a present of a handsome black horse to Sir John of Hainault, who had mounted on it a knight of his called Sir John de Fusselles, that bore his banner; which horse ran off with him, and forced his way through the English army, and, when about to return, stumbled and fell into a ditch, and severely wounded him. He would have been dead if his page had not followed him round the battalions, and found him unable to rise: he had not, however, any other hinderance than from his horse, for the English did not quit the ranks that day to make prisoners. The page alighted, and raised him up; but he did not return the way he came, as he would have found it difficult from the crowd. This battle, which was fought on the Saturday between La Broyes and Crecy, was very murderous and cruel, and many gallant deeds of arms were performed that were never known. Toward evening many knights and squires of the French had lost their masters: they wandered up and down the plain, attacking the English in small parties. They were soon destroyed; for the English had determined that day to give no quarter, or hear of ransom from any one.
Early in the day some French, Germans, and Savoyards had broken through the archers of the prince’s battalion, and had engaged with the men at arms; upon which the second battalion came to his aid, and it was time, for otherwise he would have been hard pressed. The first division, seeing the danger they were in, sent a knight in great haste to the King of England, who was posted upon an eminence near a windmill. On the knight’s arrival he said, “Sir, the Earl of Warwick, the Lord Reginald Cobham, and the others who are about your son, are vigorously attacked by the French; and they entreat that you would come to their assistance with your battalion, for, if their numbers should increase, they fear he will have too much to do.” The king replied, “Is my son dead, unhorsed, or so badly wounded that he cannot support himself?”—“Nothing of the sort, thank God,” rejoined the knight; “but he is in so hot an engagement that he has great need of your help.” The king answered, “Now, Sir Thomas, return to those that sent you, and tell them from me not to send again for me this day, or expect that I shall come, let what will happen, as long as my son has life: and say that I command them to let the boy win his spurs; for I am determined, if it please God, that all the glory and honor of this day shall be given to him and to those into whose care I have intrusted him.” The knight returned to his lords, and related the king’s answer, which mightily encouraged them, and made them repent they had ever sent such a message.
It is a certain fact, that Sir Godfrey de Harcourt, who was in the prince’s battalion, having been told by some of the English that they had seen the banner of his brother engaged in the battle against him, was exceedingly anxious to save him; but he was too late, for he was left dead on the field, and so was the Earl of Aumarle, his nephew. On the other hand, the Earls of Alençon and of Flanders were fighting lustily under their banners, and with their own people; but they could not resist the force of the English, and were there slain, as well as many other knights and squires that were attending on or accompanying them. The Earl of Blois, nephew to the King of France, and the Duke of Lorraine, his brother-in-law, with their troops, made a gallant defence; but they were surrounded by a troop of English and Welsh, and slain in spite of their prowess. The Earl of St. Pol and the Earl of Auxerre were also killed, as well as many others. Late after vespers, the King of France had not more about him than sixty men, every one included. Sir John of Hainault, who was of the number, had once remounted the king, for his horse had been killed under him by an arrow: he said to the king, “Sir, retreat while you have an opportunity, and do not expose yourself so simply: if you have lost this battle, another time you will be the conqueror.” After he had said this, he took the bridle of the king’s horse, and led him off by force, for he had before entreated of him to retire. The king rode on until he came to the castle of La Broyes, where he found the gates shut, for it was very dark. The king ordered the governor of it to be summoned: he came upon the battlements, and asked who it was that called at such an hour. The king answered, “Open, open, governor: it is the fortune of France.” The governor, hearing the king’s voice, immediately descended, opened the gate, and let down the bridge. The king and his company entered the castle; but he had only with him five barons,—Sir John of Hainault, the Lord Charles of Montmorency, the Lord of Beaujeu, the Lord of Aubigny, and the Lord of Montfort. The king would not bury himself in such a place as that, but, having taken some refreshments, set out again with his attendants about midnight, and rode on under the direction of guides who were well acquainted with the country, until about daybreak he came to Amiens, where he halted. This Saturday the English never quitted their ranks in pursuit of any one, but remained on the field, guarding their position, and defending themselves against all who attacked them. The battle was ended at the hour of vespers.
[There can be no better opportunity than this celebrated chapter affords to show the young reader how Froissart’s Chronicles looked, both in their first English guise, and in the original old French. It is, therefore, repeated here in both versions.
The first is especially valuable as an example of how our language looked and sounded during the first quarter of the sixteenth century. The translator, John Bourchier, Lord Berners, was a notable soldier and statesman, as well as a scholar. He came of a good family: his grandfather was son of Anne, granddaughter of King Edward the Third. He was born about 1467; in due time went to college, fought in the French wars, travelled on the Continent, became a favorite of King Henry the Eighth, was employed in honorable embassies, became chancellor of the exchequer, and finally passed his quiet age as governor of Calais. It was at the request of King Henry the Eighth that he translated Froissart into English, though he evidently loved our fine old writer on his own account, and speaks thus in his quaint preface: “...Whan I advertysed and remembred the manyfolde comodyties of hystorie, howe benefyciall it is to mortall folke, and eke howe laudable and merytoryous a deed it is to write hystories, fixed my mynde to do some thyng therein; and ever whan this ymaginacyon came to me, I volved, tourned, and redde many volumes and bokes, conteyning famouse histories; and amonge all other, I redde diligently the four volumes or bokes of sir Johan Froyssart of the countrey of Heynaulte, written in the Frenche tonge, whiche I iudged comodyous, necessarie, and profytable to be hadde in Englysshe, sithe they treat of the famous actes done in our parties; ... and specially they redounde to the honoure of Englysshemen.”
Accordingly, under the “gracyous suppertacyon” of the king, he made his translation, the first volume of which was printed by Pyason in the year 1523, announcing itself thus: “Here begynnith the firste volum of Syr John Froissart: of the Cronycles of Englande, Fraunce, Spayne, Portyugale, Scotlande, Bretaine, Flaunders: and other places adjoynynge. Translated oute of Frenche into oure maternall Englysshe tongue, by John Bouchier, knyghte, lorde Berners: At the commandement of oure moste hyghe redouted Soveraygne lorde kynge Henrye the VIII, kynge of Englaunde, Fraunce, and Irelande, defendour of the faith: and of the church of Englande and also of Irelande in earth the supreme heade.”
I earnestly hope that this following chapter of what may perhaps fairly be called the first classic in modern English prose may tempt some young reader hereafter to study Berners more carefully, and to re-infuse, under his influence, the old fire and color and brightness into the pale and often pitiful sentences of our current style.—S. L.]
Of the batayle of Cressy bytwene the kyng of England and the frenche kyng.
CAP. CXXX.
Thenglysshmen who were in thre batayls, lyeing on the grounde to rest them, assone as they saw the frenchmen aproche, they rose upon their fete, fayre and easely, without any hast, and arranged their batayls: the first, which was the princes batell, the archers there stode in manner of a herse,[7] and the men of armes in the botome of the batayle. Therle of Northāpton,[8] and therle of Arundell, with the second batell, were on a wyng in good order, redy to confort the princes batayle, if nede were. The lordes and knyghtes of France, cāe[7] not to the assemble togyder in good order, for some cāe before, and some came after, in such hast and yvell order, yᵗ[9] one of thē[7] dyd trouble another: whan the french kyng sawe the englysshmen, his blode chaunged, and sayde to his marshals, make the genowayes go on before, and begynne the batayle in the name of god and saynt Denyse; ther were of the genowayes crosbowes, about a fiftene thousand, but they were so wery of goyng a fote that day, a six leages, armed with their crosbowes, that they sayde to their constables, we be not well ordred to fyght this day, for we be not in the case to do any great dede of armes, we have more nede of rest: these wordes came to the erle of Alanson, who sayd, a man is well at ease to be charged wᵗ[10] suche a sorte of rascalles, to be faynt and fayle now at moost nede. Also the same season there fell a great rayne, and a clyps, with a terryble thunder, and before the rayne, ther came fleyng over both batayls, a great nombre of crowes, for feare of the tempest comynge. Than anone the eyre beganne to wax clere, and the sonne to shyne fayre and bright, the which was right in the french mens eyen and on the englysshmens backes. Whan the genowayes were assembled toguyder, and beganne to aproche, they made a great leape and crye, to abasshe thenglysshmen, but they stode styll, and styredde not for all that; than̄e the genowayes agayne the seconde tyme made another leape, and a fell crye, and stepped forward a lytell, and thenglysshmen remeued not one fote; thirdly agayne they leapt and cryed, and went forthe tyll they come within shotte; thāe they shotte feersly with their crosbowes; than thenglysshe archers stept forthe one pase, and lette fly their arowes so hotly, and so thycke, that it semed snowe: when the genowayes felte the arowes persynge through heedes, armes, and brestes, many of them cast downe their crosbowes, and dyde cutte their strynges, and retourned dysconfited. Whan the frenche kynge sawe them flye away, he sayd, slee these rascals, for they shall lette and trouble us without reason: then ye shulde have sene the men of armes dasshe in among them, and kylled a great nombre of them; and ever styll the englysshmen shot where as they sawe thyckest preace; the sharpe arowes ranne into the men of armes, and into their horses, and many fell, horse and men, amōge[11] the genowayes; and when they were downe, they coude not relyve agayne, the preace was so thycke, that one overthrewe another. And also amonge the englysshemen there were certayne rascalles that went a fote, with great knyves, and they went in among the men of armes, and slewe and murdredde many as they lay on the grounde, bothe erles, baronnes, knyghtes, and squyers, whereof the kyng of Englande was after dyspleased, for he had rather they had bene taken prisoners. The valyant kyng of Behaygne, called Charles of Luzenbourge, sonne to the noble emperour Henry of Luzenbourge, for all that he was nyghe blynde, whan he understode the order of the batayle, he sayde to them about hym, where is the lorde Charles my son, his men sayde, sir, we can not tell, we thynke he be fyghtynge; than he sayde, sirs, ye ar my men, my companyons, and frendes in this iourney. I requyre you bring me so farre forwarde, that I may stryke one stroke with my swerde: they sayde they wolde do his commandement, and to the intent that they shulde not lese hym in the prease, they tyed all their raynes of their bridelles eche to other, and sette the kynge before to acomplysshe his desyre, and so thei went on their ennemyes; the lorde Charles of Behaygne, his sonne, who wrote hymselfe kyng of Behaygne, and bare the armes, he came in good order to the batayle, but whāe he sawe that the matter wente awrie on their partie, he departed, I can not tell you whiche waye; the kynge his father was so farre forewarde that he strake a stroke with his swerde, ye and mo than foure, and fought valyantly, and so dyde his company, and they advētured themselfe so forwarde, that they were ther all slayne, and the next day they were founde in the place about the kyng, and all their horses tyed eche to other. The erle of Alansone came to the batayle right ordynotlye, and fought with thenglysshmen; and the erle of Flaunders also on his parte; these two lordes with their cōpanyes coosted the englysshe archers, and came to the princes batayle, and there fought valyantly longe. The frenche kynge wolde fayne have come thyder whanne he sawe their baners, but there was a great hedge of archers before hym. The same day the frenche kynge hadde gyven a great blacke courser to sir Johan of Heynault, and he made the lorde Johan of Fussels to ryde on hym, and to bere his banerre; the same horse tooke the bridell in the tethe, and brought hym through all the currours of thēglysshmen, and as he wolde have retourned agayne, he fell in a great dyke, and was sore hurt, and had ben ther deed, and his page had not ben,[12] who folowed hym through all the batayls, and sawe wher his maister lay in the dyke, and had none other lette but for his horse, for thenglysshmen wolde not yssue out of their batayle, for takyng of any prisoner; thāe the page alyghted and relyved his maister, than he went not backe agayn yᵉ same way that they came, there was to many in his way. This batayle bytwene Broy and Cressy, this saturday, was right cruell and fell, and many a feat of armes done, that came not to my knowledge; in the night, dyverse knyghtes and sqyers lost their maisters, and sometyme came on thenglysshmen, who receyved them in suche wyse, that they were ever nighe slayne, for there was none taken to mercy nor to raunsome, for so the englysshmen were determyned: in the mornyng the day of the batayle, certayne frenchemen and almaygnes[13] perforce opyned the archers of the princes batayle, and came and fought with the men of armes hande to hande: than the seconde batayle of thenglysshmen came to socour the princes batayle, the whiche was tyme, for they had as than moche ado; and they with yᵉ prince sent a messanger to the kynge, who was on a lytell wyndmyll hyll; than the knyght sayd to the kyng, sir, therle of Warwyke, and therle of Cāfort, sir Reynolde Cobham, and other, suche as be about the prince your sonne, ar feersly fought with all, and are sore handled, wherfore they desyre you, that you and your batayle wolle come and ayde them, for if the frenchmen encrease, as they dout they woll, your sonne and they shall have much ado. Than the kynge sayde, is my sonne deed or hurt, or on the yerthe felled; no sir, quoth the knyght, but he is hardely matched, wherfore he hath nede of your ayde. Well, sayde the kyng, retourne to hym, and to them that sent you hyther, and say to them, that they sende no more to me for any adventure that falleth, as long as my sonne is alyve; and also say to thē, that they suffre hym this day to wynne his spurres, for if god be pleased, I woll this iourney be his, and the honoure thereof, and to them that be aboute hym. Than the kynght retourned agayn to thē, and shewed the kynges wordes, the which gretly encouraged them, and repoyned in that they had sende to the kynge as they dyd. Sir Godfray of Harecourt, wolde gladly that the erle of Harecourt, his brother, myght have bene saved, for he hard say by thē that sawe his baner, howe that he was ther in the felde on the french partie, but sir Godfray coude not come to hym betymes, for he was slayne or he coude cōe at hym, and so was also the erle of Almare, his nephue. In another place, the erle of Alenson, and therle of Flaunders, fought valyantly, every lorde under his owne baner; but finally, they coude not resyst agaynt the puyssance of the englysshemen, and so ther they were also slayne, and dyvers other knyghtes and sqyers. Also therle Lewes of Bloyes, nephue to the frenche kyng, and the duke of Lorayne, fought under their baners, but at last they were closed in among a cōpany of englysshmen and walsshemen, and there were slayne, for all their prowes. Also there was slayne, the erle of Ausser, therle of saynt Poule, and many other. In the evenynge, the frenche kynge, who had lefte about hym no mo than a threscore persons, one and other, wherof sir John of Heynalt was one, who had remounted ones the kynge, for his horse was slayne with an arowe, thā he sayde to the kynge, sir, departe hense, for it is tyme, lese not yourselfe wylfully, if ye have losse at this tyme, ye shall recover it agayne another season: and soo he toke the kynges horse by the brydell, and ledde hym away in a maner perforce: than the kyng rode tyll he came to the castell of Broy, the gate was closed, bycause it was by that tyme darke; than the kynge called the captayne, who came to the walles, and sayd, who is that calleth there this tyme of night, than the kynge sayde, open your gate quickely, for this is the fortune of Fraunce: the captayne knewe than it was the kyng, and opyned the gate, and let downe the bridge; than the kyng entred, and he had with hym but fyve baronnes, sir Johan of Heynault, sir Charles of Momorency, the lorde of Beauiewe, the lorde Dobegny, and the lorde of Mountfort: the kynge wolde not tary there, but drāke and departed thense about mydnyght, and so rode by suche guydes as knewe the countrey, tyll he came in the mornynge to Amyense, and there he rested. This saturday, the englysshemen never departed fro their batayls for chasynge of any man, but kept styll their felde, and ever defended themselfe agaynst all such as came to assayle them: this batayle ended aboute evynsonge tyme.
Comment le Roi de France commanda à ses Maréchaux faire commencer la Bataille par les Génois: et comment les dits Génois furent tous déconfits.
Il n’est nul homme, tant fut présent à cette journée, ni eut bon loisir d’aviser et imaginer toute la besogne ainsi qu’elle alla, qui en sut ni put imaginer, ni recorder la vérité, specialement de la partie des François, tant y eut pauvre arroy et ordonnance en leurs courois (disposition); et ce que j’en sais, je l’ai su le plus par les Anglois, qui imaginèrent bien leur convenant (ordre), et aussi par les gens Messire Jean de Hainaut, qui fut toujours de-lez (près) le roi de France.
Les Anglois qui ordonnés étoient en trois batailles, et qui sévient jus (bas) à terre tout bellement, sitôt qu’ils virent les François approcher, ils se levèrent moult ordonnément, sans nul effroi, et se rangèrent en leurs batailles, celle du prince tout devant, leurs archers mis en manière d’une herse, et les gens-d’armes au fond de la bataille. Le comte de Northampton et le comte d’Arundel et leur bataille, qui faisoient la seconde, se tenoient sur aile bien ordonnément et avisés et pourvus pour conforter le prince, si besoin étoit. Vous devez savoir que ces seigneurs, rois, ducs, comtes, barons François ne vinrent mie jusques là tous ensemble, mais l’un devant, l’autre derrière, sans arroy et sans ordonnance. Quand le roi Philippe vint jusques sur la place où les Anglois étoient de là arrêtés et ordonnés, et il les vit, le sang lui mua, car il les héoit (haïssoit) et ne se fut adonc nullement refrené (retenu) ni abstenu d’eux combattre; et dit à ses maréchaux: “Faites passer nos Génois devant et commencer la bataille, au nom de Dieu et de monseigneur St. Denis.” Là avoit, de ces dits Génois arbalétriers, environ quinze mille qui eussent eu aussi cher néant que commencer adonc la bataille; car ils étoient durement las et travaillés (fatigués) d’aller à pied ce jour plus de six lieues, tous armés, et de leurs arbalétres porter; et dirent adonc à leurs connétables (commandants) qu’ils n’étoient mie adonc ordonnés de foire nul grand exploit de bataille.
Ces paroles volèrent jusques au comte d’Alençon, qui en fut durement courrucé et dit: “On se doit bien charger de telle ribaudaille qui faillent (manquent) au besoin.”
Entrementes (pendant) que ces parols couroient et que ces Génois se reculoient et se détnoient (différoient) descendit une pluie du ciel, si grosse et si épaisse que merveilles, et un tonnerre, et un esclistre (eclair) moult grand et moult horrible.
Paravant cette pluie, pardessus les batailles, autant d’un côté que d’autre, avoient volé si grand’ foison de courbeaux que sans nombre, et demeué le plus grand tempêtes du monde. Là disolent aucuns sages chevaliers que c’étoit un signe de grand’ bataille et de grand effusion de sang.
Après toutes ces choses se commença l’air à éclaircir et le soleil à luire bel et clair. Si l’avoient les François droit en l’œil et les Anglois par derrière. Quand les Génois furent tous recuellis et mis ensemble, et ils durent approcher leurs ennemis, ils commencèrent à crier si très haut que ce fut merveilles, et le firent pour ébahir les Anglois; mais les Anglois se tinrent tous cois, ni oncques n’en firent semblant. Secondement encore crièrent eux ainsi, et puis allèrent un petit pas avant; et les Anglois restoient tous cois, sans eux mouvoir de leur pas. Tiercement encore crièrent moult haut et moult clair, et passèrent avant, et tendirent leurs arbalétres et commencèrent à traire (tirer). Et ces archers d’Angleterre, quand ils virent cette ordonnance, passèrent un pas en avant, et puis firent voler ces sagettes (flèches) de grand’ façon, qui entrèrent et descendirent si ouniement (à la fois) sur ces Génois que ce sembloit neige. Les Génois qui n’avoient pas appris à trouver tels archers que sont ceux d’Angleterre, quand ils sentirent ces sagettes (flèches) qui leur perçoient bras, têtes et banlevre, furent tantôt déconfits et confèrent les plusieurs les cordes de leurs arcs et les aucuns les jetoient jus (à bas); si se mirent aussi de retour.
Entre eux et les François avoit une grand’ haie de gens d’armes, montés et parés moult richement, qui regardoient le convenant (disposition) des Génois; si que quand ils cuidèrent (crurent) retourner, ils ne peuvent, car le roi de France, par grand mautalent (mécontentement), quand il vit leur pauvre arroy, et qu’ils se déconfisoient ainsi, commanda et dit: “Or tôt, tuez toute cette ribaudaille, car ils nous empêchent la voie sans raison.” Là vissiez gens d’armes en tous lez (côtés) entre eux férir et frapper sur eux, et les plusieurs trébucher et cheoir parmi eux, qui oncques puis ne se relevèrent. Et toujours traioirent (tiroient) les Anglois en la plus grand’ presse, qui rien ne perdoient de leur trait; car ils empalloient et féroient parmi le corps ou parmi les membres gens et chevaux qui là chéoient (tomboient) et trebuchoient à grand meschef; et ne pouvoient être relevés, si ce n’étoit par force et par grand’ aide de gens. Ainsi se commença la bataille entre la Broye et Crécy en Ponthieu, ce samedi à heure de vespres.
WHEN, on the Saturday night, the English heard no more hooting or shouting, nor any more crying out to particular lords or their banners, they looked upon the field as their own, and their enemies as beaten. They made great fires, and lighted torches because of the obscurity of the night. King Edward then came down from his post, who all that day had not put on his helmet, and, with his whole battalion, advanced to the Prince of Wales, whom he embraced in his arms, and kissed, and said, “Sweet son, God give you good perseverance: you are my son, for most loyally have you acquitted yourself this day. You are worthy to be a sovereign.” The prince bowed down very low, and humbled himself, giving all the honor to the king his father. The English, during the night, made frequent thanksgivings to the Lord for the happy issue of the day, and without rioting; for the king had forbidden all riot or noise. On the Sunday morning there was so great a fog that one could scarcely see the distance of half an acre. The king ordered a detachment from the army, under the command of the two marshals, consisting of about five hundred lances and two thousand archers, to make an excursion, and see if there were any bodies of French collected together. The quota of troops from Rouen and Beauvais had, this Sunday morning, left Abbeville and St. Ricquier in Ponthieu, to join the French army, and were ignorant of the defeat of the preceding evening. They met this detachment, and, thinking they must be French, hastened to join them.
As soon as the English found who they were, they fell upon them, and there was a sharp engagement; but the French soon turned their backs, and fled in great disorder. There were slain in this flight, in the open fields, under hedges and bushes, upward of seven thousand; and, had it been clear weather, not one soul would have escaped.
A little time after, the same party fell in with the Archbishop of Rouen, and the great Prior of France, who were also ignorant of the discomfiture of the French; for they had been informed that the king was not to fight before Sunday. Here began a fresh battle, for these two lords were well attended by good men at arms: however, they could not withstand the English, but were almost all slain, with the two chiefs who commanded them, very few escaping. In the course of the morning the English found many Frenchmen who had lost their road on the Saturday, and had lain in the open fields, not knowing what was become of the king or their own leaders. The English put to the sword all they met; and it has been assured to me for fact, that of foot-soldiers sent from the cities, towns, and municipalities, there were slain, this Sunday morning, four times as many as in the battle of Saturday.
THIS detachment, which had been sent to look after the French, returned as the king was coming from mass, and related to him all that they had seen and met with. After he had been assured by them that there was not any appearance of the French collecting another army, he sent to have the numbers and condition of the dead examined.
He ordered on this business Lord Reginald Cobham, Lord Stafford, and three heralds to examine their arms, and two secretaries to write down all the names. They took much pains to examine all the dead, and were the whole day in the field of battle, not returning but just as the king was sitting down to supper. They made to him a very circumstantial report of all they had observed, and said they had found eighty banners, the bodies of eleven princes, twelve hundred knights, and about thirty thousand common men.
The English halted there that day, and on the Monday morning prepared to march off. The king ordered the bodies of the principal knights to be taken from the ground, and carried to the monastery of Montenay, which was hard by, there to be interred in consecrated ground. He had it proclaimed in the neighborhood, that he should grant a truce for three days, in order that the dead might be buried. He then marched on, passing by Montrieul-sur-mer.
His marshals made an excursion as far as Hesdin, and burnt Vaubain and Serain; but they could make nothing of the castle, as it was too strong and well guarded. They lay that Monday night upon the banks of the Canche, near Blangy. The next day they rode toward Boulogne, and burnt the towns of St. Josse and Neufchatel: they did the same to Estaples, in the country of the Boulonois. The whole army passed through the forest of Hardelou, and the country of the Boulonois, and came to the large town of Wisant, where the king, prince, and all the English lodged; and, having refreshed themselves there one whole day, they came on the Thursday before the strong town of Calais.
A BURGUNDY knight named Sir John de Vienne was governor of Calais; and with him were Sir Arnold d’Andreghen, Sir John de Surie, Sir Bardo de Bellebourne, Sir Geoffrey de la Motte, Sir Pepin de Were, and many other knights and squires. On the king’s arrival before Calais, he laid siege to it, and built, between it and the river and bridge, houses of wood; they were laid out in streets, and thatched with straw or broom; and in this town of the king’s there was every thing necessary for an army, besides a market-place, where there were markets every Wednesday and Saturday for butchers’ meat, and all other sorts of merchandise: cloth, bread, and every thing else, which came from England and Flanders, might be had there, as well as all comforts, for money. The English made frequent excursions to Guines and its neighborhood, and to the gates of St. Omer and Boulogne, from whence they brought great booties back to the army. The king made no attacks upon the town, as he knew it would be only lost labor, and he was sparing of his men and artillery; but said he would remain there so long that he would starve the town into a surrender, unless the King of France should come there to raise the siege. When the governor of Calais saw the preparations of the King of England, he collected together all the poor inhabitants, who had not laid in any store of provisions, and, one Wednesday morning, sent upward of seventeen hundred men, women, and children out of the town. As they were passing through the English army, they asked them why they had left the town. They replied, because they had nothing to eat. The king upon this allowed them to pass through in safety, ordered them a hearty dinner, and gave to each two sterlings, as charity and alms; for which many of them prayed earnestly for the king.
THE Duke of Normandy, whom we left before Aiguillon, which he was besieging, while Sir Walter Manny and the other knights were within it, made, about the middle of August, a skirmish before the castle, which increased so much that almost his whole army was engaged in it. Near about this time, the Lord Philip of Burgundy, Earl of Artois and of Boulogne, and cousin-german to the duke, arrived. He was a very young knight. As soon as this skirmish commenced, he armed himself, and, mounting a handsome steed, stuck spurs into him in order to hasten to the combat; but the horse, taking the bit between his teeth, ran off with him, and in crossing a ditch fell into it, upon the knight, who was so grievously bruised that he never recovered, and in a short time died. Soon afterwards the King of France sent to his son the Duke of Normandy, to lay all other things aside, and raise the siege, in order to return directly into France to defend his inheritance against the English. The duke upon this demanded advice from the earls and barons there present, for he had vowed he would never move from thence until he had the castle, and all within it, in his power; but they assured him, since the king his father had so expressly ordered him to return, he might comply without any forfeiture of his honor. On the morrow at break of day, therefore, the French decamped, and, trussing up tents and baggage with great haste, took the road for France.
The knights who were in Aiguillon, seeing this, armed themselves, and, mounting their horses, sallied forth (the pennon of Sir Walter Manny taking the lead), fell upon the French, who were scarcely all marched off, cut down and slew numbers, and took upward of forty prisoners, whom they brought back to the castle. From them they learned the successful campaign the King of England had made in France, and that at present he was laying siege to Calais. Before the King of France left Amiens, after the battle of Crecy, to go for Paris, he was so much enraged against Sir Godémar du Fay, for not having done his duty in defending the ford of Blanchetaque, by which means the English had entered Ponthieu, that he had determined to hang him; to which many of his council also were inclined, for they were desirous that Sir Godémar should make some amends, by his death, for the defeat the king had suffered at Crecy, and called him traitor. But Sir John of Hainault excused him, and averted the king’s anger, by saying that it would have been difficult for him to have resisted the English army, when all the flower of the French nobility could do nothing. Soon after this the Duke of Normandy arrived in France, where he was joyfully received by his parents the king and queen.
ABOUT this time Sir Walter Manny had a conversation with a great knight from Normandy, whom he detained as his prisoner, and asked him what sum he was willing to pay for his ransom. The knight replied, “Three thousand crowns.” Upon this Sir Walter said, “I know you are related to the Duke of Normandy, much beloved by him, and one of his privy councillors. I will let you free upon your honor, if you will go to the duke, and obtain from him a passport for myself and twenty others, that we may ride through France as far as Calais, paying courteously for whatever we may want. If therefore you obtain this from the king, I shall hold you free from your ransom, and also be much obliged to you; for I have a great desire to see the King of England, and will not remain in any town more than one night. If you cannot accomplish it, you will return in a month to this fortress, as to your prison.” The knight set out for Paris, and having obtained from the duke the passport, returned with it to Sir Walter at Aiguillon, who acquitted him of his ransom. Sir Walter shortly afterwards set out with twenty horse, and took his road through Auvergne. He told everywhere who he was, and, at every place he stopped, showed his passport, and was directly set at liberty; but at Orleans he was arrested, although he showed his papers, and from thence conducted to Paris, where he was confined in the prison of the Châtelet. When the Duke of Normandy heard of it, he went immediately to the king, and remonstrated with him on the subject, because Sir Walter Manny had had his passport through his means; and demanded that he should as soon as possible be set at liberty, otherwise it would be said that he had betrayed him. The king answered that he intended putting him to death, for he looked upon him as one of his greatest enemies. Upon which the duke said, that, if he put his intentions in execution, he would never bear arms against the King of England, and would prevent all those dependent on him from doing the same. Very high words passed between them; and he left the king, declaring he would never serve in any of his armies so long as Walter Manny should remain in prison.
Things remained in this situation a long time. There was a knight from Hainault, named Sir Mansart d’Aisnes, who was eager to serve Sir Walter, but had great difficulty in getting access to the Duke of Normandy: however, at last the king was advised to let Sir Walter out of prison, and to pay him all his expenses. The king would have Sir Walter to dine with him in the Hotel de Nerle at Paris, when he presented him with gifts and jewels to the amount of a thousand florins. Sir Walter accepted of them upon condition that when he got to Calais he should inform the king, his lord, of it; and if it were agreeable to his pleasure he would keep them, otherwise he would send them back. The king and duke said he had spoken like a loyal knight. Sir Walter then took leave of them, rode on by easy day’s journeys to Hainault, and remained, to refresh himself, three days in Valenciennes. He arrived at Calais, where he was well received by the King of England, who, upon being informed by Sir Walter of the presents he had from the King of France, said, “Sir Walter, you have hitherto most loyally served us, and we hope you will continue to do so. Send back to King Philip his presents, for you have no right to keep them: we have enough, thank God, for you and ourselves, and are perfectly well disposed to do you all the good in our power for the services you have rendered us.” Sir Walter took out all the jewels, and, giving them to his cousin the Lord of Mansac, said, “Ride into France, to King Philip, and recommend me to him; and tell him that I thank him many times for the fine jewels he presented me with, but that it is not agreeable to the will and pleasure of the King of England, my lord, that I retain them.” The knight did as he was commanded; but the King of France would not take back the jewels: he gave them to the Lord of Mansac, who thanked the king for them, and had no inclination to refuse them.
I HAVE been silent some time respecting the King of Scotland, but until this moment I have not had any thing worth relating; for, as I have said before, mutual truces had been granted between him and the King of England, which had not been infringed. During the time the King of England was carrying on the siege of Calais, the Scots determined to make war upon him, thinking it a good opportunity to be revenged for the many disasters he had brought on them. England had at that time very few men at arms, as the king had a great number with him before Calais, as well as in his other armies in Brittany, Poitou, and Gascony. The King of France took great pains to foment this war, in order that the English might have so much to employ them at home as would oblige them to raise the siege of Calais, and return to England.
King David issued his summons for a parliament to be holden at Perth; which was attended by the earls, prelates, and barons of Scotland, who were unanimous for invading England as speedily as possible. Raynold, Lord of the Isles, who governed the wild Scots, and whom alone they obeyed, was sent to, and entreated to attend the parliament. He complied with the request, and brought three thousand of the wildest of his countrymen with him. When all the Scots were assembled, they amounted together to about forty thousand combatants; but they could not make their preparations so secretly as to prevent news of it coming to the knowledge of the Queen of England, who had taken up her residence in the North, near the borders. She wrote and sent summons to all that were attached to England to come to York by a certain day. Many men at arms and archers who had remained at home put themselves in motion, and advanced to Newcastle-upon-Tyne, which the queen had appointed as the final place of rendezvous. In the mean while, the Scots set out from Perth, and advanced the first day to Dunfermline; the next day they crossed a small arm of the sea; but the king went to Stirling, crossed the water on the morrow, and came to Edinburgh. Here they halted, and numbered their men. There were full three thousand knights and squires, well armed, and thirty thousand others, mounted on galloways. They marched to Roxburgh, the first fortress belonging to the English on their road, under the command of the Lord William Montacute, who had lately erected it against the Scots. This castle is handsome, and very strong: the Scots therefore passed on without attacking it, and took up their quarters on the banks of a river between Precy and Lincolle, whence they began to destroy and burn the country of Cumberland. Some of their scouts advanced as far as York, where they burnt all without the walls and down the river, and returned to their army, within one day’s march of Newcastle.
THE Queen of England, who was very anxious to defend her kingdom and guard it from all disturbers, in order to show that she was in earnest about it came herself to Newcastle-upon-Tyne. She took up her residence there, to wait for the forces she expected from different parts of the kingdom. The Scots, who were informed that Newcastle was the place of rendezvous of the English army, advanced thither, and sent their vanguard to skirmish near the town; who, on their return, burnt some hamlets adjoining to it. The smoke and flames came into the town, which made the English impatient to sally out upon those who had done this mischief; but their leaders would not permit them. On the morrow the King of Scotland, with full forty thousand men, including all sorts, advanced within three short English miles of Newcastle, and took up his quarters on the land of the Lord Neville. He sent to inform the army in the town, that, if they were willing to come forth, he would wait for them, and give them battle. The barons and prelates of England sent for answer, that they accepted his offer, and would risk their lives with the realm of their lord and king. They sallied out, in number about twelve hundred men at arms, three thousand archers, and seven thousand other men, including the Welsh. The Scots posted themselves opposite to the English, and each army was drawn out in battle-array.
The Queen of England came to the place where her army was, and remained until it was drawn out in four battalions. The first was under the command of the Bishop of Durham and the Lord Percy; the second, under the Archbishop of York and the Lord Neville; the third, under the Bishop of Lincoln and Lord Mowbray; the fourth was commanded by Lord Baliol, governor of Berwick, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the Lord Roos. Each battalion had its just proportion of men at arms and archers, as was expedient. The queen now advanced among them, and entreated them to do their duty well in defending the honor of their lord and king, and urged them, for the love of God, to fight manfully. They promised her that they would acquit themselves loyally, to the utmost of their power, and perhaps better than if the king had been there in person. The queen then took her leave, and recommended them to the protection of God and St. George. The two armies were soon after in motion, and the archers on each side began to shoot; but those of the Scots did not long continue it, while the English shot incessantly. When the battalions were got into close combat, the engagement was sharp and well fought.
The battle began about nine o’clock, and lasted until noon. The Scots had very hard and sharp axes, with which they dealt deadly blows; but at last the English gained the field, though it cost them dear by the loss of their men. On the part of the Scots, there fell in the field the Earl of Sys, the Earl Dostre, the Earl Patris, the Earl of Furlant, the Earl Dastredure, the Earl of Mar, the Earl John Douglas, Sir Alexander Ramsay who bore the king’s banners, and many other barons, knights, and squires. The King of Scotland was taken prisoner, fighting most gallantly, and badly wounded before he was captured by a squire of Northumberland named John Copeland; who, as soon as he got him, pushed through the crowd, and with eight other companions rode off, and never stopped until he was distant from the field of battle about fifteen miles. He came about vespers to Ogle Castle, on the river Blythe, and there declared that he would not surrender his prisoner, the King of Scotland, to man or woman, except to his lord the King of England. That same day were taken prisoners the Earls of Murray and March, Lord William Douglas, Lord Robert de Wersy, the Bishops of Aberdeen and St. Andrews, and many other barons and knights. There were about fifteen thousand slain, and the remainder saved themselves as well as they could. This battle was fought near Newcastle, in the year 1346, on a Saturday preceding Michaelmas Day.