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112.-BERTRAND DU GUESCLIN.

(Translated from the French in Historical Parallels.')

[In 1361 the prince of Wales had married Joanna, styled the Fair, the daughter of his great uncle the earl of Kent, who had been put to death in the beginning of the present reign. This lady had been first married to William de Montacute, earl of Salisbury, from whom she had been divorced; and she had now been about three months the widow of sir Thomas Holland, who assumed in her right the title of earl of Kent, and was summoned to parliament as such. Soon after his marriage the prince of Wales was raised by his father to the new dignity of prince of Aquitaine and Gascony (the two provinces or districts of Guienne); and in 1363 he took up his residence, and established a splendid court in that quality, at Bordeaux. Edward's administration of his continental principality was very able and successful, till he unfortunately became involved in the contest carried on by Pedro, surnamed the Cruel, with his illegitimate brother Henry of Trastamare for the crown of Castile. Pedro having been driven from his throne by Henry, applied to the Black Prince for aid to expel the usurper. At this call Edward, forgetting everything except the martial feelings of the age and what he conceived to be the rights of legitimacy, marched into Spain, and defeated Henry at the battle of Najera, fought on the 3rd of April, 1367. He did not, however, attain even his immediate object by this success. Pedro had reigned little more than a year when he was again driven from his throne by Henry, by whom he was soon after murdered. Henry kept possession of the throne which he had thus obtained till his death, ten years after. Prince Edward, meanwhile, owing to Pedro's misfortunes, having been disappointed of the money which that king had engaged to supply, found himself obliged to lay additional taxes upon his subjects of Guienne, to obtain the means of paying his troops. These imposts several of the Gascon lords refused to submit to, and appealed to the king of France as the lord paramount. Charles on this summoned Edward to appear before the parliament of Paris as his vassal; and on the refusal of the prince, immediately confiscated all the lands held by him and his father in France. A new war forthwith broke out between the two countries. For a time the wonted valour of prince Edward again shone forth; but among the other fruits of his Spanish expedition was an illness caught by his exposure in that climate, which gradually undermined his constitution, and at length compelled him, in January, 1371, to return to England.]

One day the prince of Wales was risen from dinner, and gone into a private chamber with his barons, who had been served with wine and spices. So they began to speak of many a bold deed of arms, of love-passages, of battles, and of prisons, and how St. Louis to save his life was made prisoner in Tunis, from whence he was ransomed for fine gold, paid down by weight. Until the prince, who spoke without caution, said, 'When a good knight well approved in battle is made prisoner in fair feat of arms, and has rendered himself, and sworn to abide prisoner, he should on no account depart without his master's leave. And also one should not demand such portion of his substance, that he be unable to equip himself again.' When the Sire de Lebret heard these words, he began to take heed, and said to him, 'Noble Sire, be not angry with me if I relate what I have heard said of you in your absence.' "By my faith,' said the prince, 'right little should I love follower of mine sitting at my table, if he heard said a word against my honour, and apprised me not of it.' 'Sire,' said he of Lebret, men say that you hold in prison a knight whose name I well know, whom you dare not delyver.' 'It is true,' said Oliver de

Clisson, 'I have heard speak of it.' Then the prince swore and boasted, 'that he knew no knight in the world, but, if he were his prisoner, he would put him to a fair ransom, according to his ability.' And Lebret said, 'How then do you forget Bertrand du Guesclin, that he cannot get away?' And when the prince heard this, his colour changed; and he was so tempted by pride, anger, and disdain, that he commanded Bertrand to be brought before him; with whom he wished to make terms, in spite of all who had spoken of the matter, and would fain not let him be ransomed, unless they themselves should fix the amount.

Then certain knights went and found Bertrand, who, to amuse himself and forget his weariness, was talking with his chamberlain. Which knights saluted him. And Bertrand arose towards them, and showed a fair seeming, saying 'that they were come in good time.' Then he ordered the aforesaid chamberlain to bring wine. The knights answered 'that it was right fitting they should have much wine, good and strong; for they brought him good, joyful, and pleasant news with good will.' Then one of them who was wise and discrect said, 'that the prince sent for him to appear in his presence, and he thought that he would be ransomed by help of those friends he had at court, who were many.' 'What say you?' said Bertrand; 'I have neither halfpenny nor penny, and owe more than ten thousand livres, that have been lent me, which debt has accrued in this city while I have been prisoner.' One of them inquired of him, 'How have you accounted for so much?' 'I will answer for that,' said Bertrand; 'I have eaten, drunk, given, and played at dice with it. A little money is soon spent. But if I be set free, I shall soon have paid it he saves his money, and has it in good keeping, who shall for my help lend me the keys of it.' And an officer who heard him said, 'Sir, you are stouthearted, it seems to you that every thing which you would have must happen.' 'By my faith,' said Bertrand, 'you are right, for a dispirited man is nothing better than beaten and discomfited.' And the rest said, 'that he was like one enchanted, for he was proof against every shock."

Then he was brought to the chamber where was the prince of Wales, and with him John Chandos, a true and valiant knight. And had they chosen to believe him, they would long before have disposed of the war: for he gave much good advice. And also there were Oliver de Clisson and other knights, before whom came Bertrand, wearing a grey coat. And when the prince saw him, he could not keep from laughing, from the time he saw him. Then he said, 'Well, Bertrand, how fare you?' And Bertrand approached him, bowing a little, and said, ‘Sir, when it shall please you, I may fare better: many a day have I heard the rats and mice, but the song of birds it is long since I heard.* I shall hear them when it is your pleasure.' 'Bertrand,' said the prince, 'that shall be when you will; it will depend only on yourself, so that you will swear, and make true oath, never to bear arms against me, nor these others, nor to assist Henry of Spain. So soon as you will swear this, we will fully set you free, and pay that you owe, and besides give ten thousand florins to equip you anew, if you consent to this; else you shall not go.' 'Sire,' said Bertrand, 'my deliverance then will not come to pass; for before I do so, may I lie by the leg in prison while I live. God willing, I will never be a reproach to my friends. For by Him who made the world, I will serve with my whole heart those whom I have served, and whose I have been from my outset. These are the good king of France, the noble Dukes of Anjou, of Berry, of Burgundy, and of Bourbon; whose I have been, as became me. But so please you,

This expression will remind the reader of a favourite saying of the "Good Sir James" Douglas, the companion of Robert Bruce's dangers, that "It is better to hear the lark sing, than the mouse cheep" meaning that he would never shut himself up in a castle while he could keep the open field.

suffer me to go. For you have held me too long in prison, wrongfully and without cause; and I will tell you how I had gone from France, I and my people meaning to go against the Saracens. And so I had promised Hugh de Carvalay, intending to work out my salvation.' 'Why then went you not straight witnout stopping?' said the prince. 'I will tell you,' said Bertrand in a loud voice. We found Peter, -the curse of God confound him! who had long since thrice falsely murdered his noble Queen, born of the noble line of Bourbon, and of the blood of my Lord, St. Louis, which lady was your cousin by the best blood in your body. Straightway then I stopped, to take vengeance for her, and to help Henry; for well I know, and surely I believe, that he is the right king and the true heir of Spain. And also to destroy, and put to an end, Jews and Saracens, of whom there are too many in these parts. Now through great pride you have come to Spain to the best of your ability, both through covetousness of gold and silver, and that you may have the throne after the death of Peter, who reigns wrongfully, by which journey you have, in the first place, injured your own blood, and troubled me and my people: whence it has come to pass, that after you have so ruined your friends, and you and your people have been all famished, and suffered great pain and labour, Peter has deceived you by cheating and trickery, for he has not kept faith nor covenant with you, for which, by my faith, I thank him heartily.' When Bertrand had related his reasons, the prince rose, and could not help saying that on his soul Bertrand was right, and the barons said that he had spoken truth. Then was there great joy stirring all round and about, and they said of Bertrand, one to another, 'See there a brave Breton.' But the prince called, and said to him, 'You shall not escape me without paying a good ransom; and yet it vexes me that you obtain such favour. But men say that I keep you prisoner because I fear you; and to the end that every one may cease to suspect this, and may know that I neither fear nor care for you, I will deliver you on payment of sufficient ransom.' 'Sir,' said Bertrand, 'I am a poor knight of little name, and not so born as that I should find help in plenty. And besides, my estate is mortgaged for purchase of warhorses, and also I owe in this town full ten thousand florins. Be moderate, therefore, and deliver me.' 'Where will you go, fair sir?' said the prince. 'Sir,' said Bertrand, 'I will go where I may regain my loss, and more I say not.' 'Consider then,' said the prince, 'what ransom you will give me for what you will shall be enough for me.' 'Sir,' said Bertrand, 'I trust you will not stoop to retract your meaning. And since you are content to refer it to my pleasure, I ought not to value myself too low. So I will give and engage for my freedom one hundred thousand double golden florins.' And when the prince heard him his colour changed, and he looked round at his knights, saying, 'Does he mean to make game of me that he offers such a sum? for I would gladly quit him for the quarter.' 'Bertrand,' said he, neither can you pay it, nor do I wish such a sum; so consider again.' 'Sire,' said Bertrand, 'since you will not so much, I place myself at sixty thousand double florins; you shall not have less, sobeit you will discharge me.' 'Well,' said the prince, 'I agree to it.' Then said Bertrand loudly, sir, prince Henry may well and truly vaunt that he will die king of Spain, cost him what it may, and he will lend me one half my ransom, and the king of France the other; and if I can neither go nor send to these two, I would get all the spinstresses in France to spin it rather than that I should remain longer in your hands.'* And when the prince had heard him he thus said: 'What sort of man is this? He startles at nothing, either in act or thought, no more than if he had

Si le gagneroie aincois a filler toutes les filleresses qui en France sont, que ce que jo demourasse plus entre vos mains.

all the gold which is in the world. He has set himself at sixty thousand double florins, and I would willingly have quitted him for ten thousand.' And all the barons also marvelled greatiy. 'Am I then at liberty?' said the gallant Bertrand. And Chandos asked him whence the money should come. 'Sir,' said he, 'I have good friends, as I shall find, I am certain.' 'By my faith,' said Chandos, ‘I am much rejoiced therefore, and if you have need of my help, thus much I say, I will lend you ten thousand.' 'Sir,' said Bertrand, 'I thank you. But before I seek anything of you I will try the people of my own country.””

113-THE INSURRECTION OF THE PEASANTS.

HUME.

Edward had left his grandson involved in many dangerous wars. The pretensions of the duke of Lancaster to the crown of Castile, made that kingdom still persevere in hostilities against England. Scotland, whose throne was now filled by Robert Stuart, nephew to David Bruce, and the first prince of that family, maintained such close connections with France, that war with one crown almost inevitably produced hostilities with the other. The French monarch, whose prudent conduct had acquired him the surname of wise, as he had already baffled all the experience and valour of the two Edwards, was likely to prove a dangerous enemy to a minor king; but his genius, which was not naturally enterprising, led him not, at present, to give any disturbance to his neighbours: and he laboured, besides, under many difficulties at home, which it was necessary for him to surmount before he could think of making conquests in a foreign country. England was master of Calais, Bordeaux, and Bayonne; had lately acquired possession of Cherbourg from the cession of the king of Navarre, and of Brest from that of the duke of Brittany; and having thus an easy entrance into France from every quarter, was able, even in its present situation, to give disturbance to his government. Before Charles could remove the English from these important posts, he died in the flower of his age, and left his kingdom to a minor son, who bore the name of Charles VI.

Meanwhile the war with France was carried on in a manner somewhat languid, and produced no enterprise of great lustre or renown. Sir Hugh Calverly, governor of Calais, making an inroad into Picardy with a detachment of the garrison, set fire to Boulogne. The duke of Lancaster conducted an army into Brittany, but returned without being able to perform anything memorable. In a subsequent year, the duke of Gloucester marched out of Calais with a body of 2000 cavalry, and 8000 infantry, and scrupled not, with his small army, to enter into the heart of France, and to continue his ravages through Picardy, Champaigne, the Brie, the Beauffe, the Gatinois, the Orleanois, till he reached his allies in the province of Brittany. The duke of Burgundy, at the head of a more considerable army, came within sight of him; but the French were so overawed by the former successes of the English that no superiority of numbers could tempt them to venture a pitched battle with the troops of that nation. As the duke of Brittany, soon after the arrival of these succours, formed an accommodation with the court of France, this enterprise also proved in the issue unsuccessful, and made no durable impression upon the enemy. The expences of these armaments, and the usual want of money attending a minority, much exhausted the English treasury, and obliged the parliament, besides making some alterations in the council, to impose a new and unusual tax of three groats on every person, male and female, above fifteen years of age; and they ordained that, in levying that tax, the opulent should relieve the poor by an equitable compensation. This imposition produced a mutiny, which was singular in its cir

cumstances. All history abounds with examples where the great tyrannise over the meaner sort; but here the lowest populace rose against their rulers, committed the most cruel ravages upon them, and took vengeance for all former oppressions. The faint dawn of the arts and of good government in that age, had excited the minds of the populace in different states of Europe, to wish for a better condition, and to murmur against those chains which the laws, enacted by the haughty nobility and gentry, had so long imposed upon them. The commotions of the people in Flanders, the mutiny of the peasants in France, were the natural effects of this growing spirit of independence; and the report of these events being brought in England, where personal slavery, as we learn from Froissart, was more general than in any other country in Europe, had prepared the minds of the multitude for an insurrection. One John Wall also, a seditious preacher, who affected low popularity, went about the country, and inculcated on his audience the principles of the first origin of mankind from one common stock, their equal right to liberty and to all the goods of nature, the tyranny of artificial distinctions, and the abuses which had arisen from the degradation of the more considerable part of the species, and the aggrandisement of a few insolent rulers. These doctrines, so agreeable to the populace, and so conformable to the ideas of primitive equality which are engraven in the hearts of all men, were greedily received by the multitude, and scattered the sparks of that sedition, which the present tax roused into a conflagration.

The imposition of three groats a head had been farmed out to tax-gatherers in each county, who levied the money on the people with rigour; and the clause, of making the rich ease their poorer neighbours of some share of the burden, being so vague and undeterminate, had, doubtless, occasioned many partialities, and made the people more sensible of the unequal lot which fortune had assigned them in the distribution of her favours. The first disorder was raised by a blacksmith in a village of Essex. The tax-gatherers came to this man's shop while he was at work; and they demanded payment for his daughter, whom he asserted to be below the age assigned by the statute. One of these fellows offered to produce a very indecent proof to the contrary, and at the same time laid hold of the maid, which the father resenting, immediately knocked out the ruffian's brains with his hammer. The bystanders applauded the action, and exclaimed, that it was full time for the people to take vengeance on their tyrants, and to vindicate their native liberty. They immediately flew to arms; the whole neighbourhood joined in the sedition. The flame spread in an instant over the county; it soon propagated itself into that of Kent, of Hertford, Surrey, Sussex, Suffolk, Norfolk, Cambridge, and Lincoln. Before the government had the least warning of the danger, the disorder had grown beyond control or opposition; the populace had shaken off all regard to their former masters, and being headed by the most audacious and criminal of their associates, who assumed the feigned names of Wat Tyler, Jack Straw, Hob Carter, and John Miller, by which they were fond of denoting their mean origin, they committed everywhere the most outrageous violence on such of the gentry or nobility who had the misfortune to fall into their hands.

The mutinous populace, amounting to a hundred thousand men, assembled on Blackheath under their leaders Tyler and Straw; and as the princess of Wales, the king's mother, returning from a pilgrimage to Canterbury, passed through the midst of them, they insulted her attendants, and some of the most insolent among them, to show their purpose of levelling all mankind, forced kisses from her; but they allowed her to continue her journey, without attempting any farther injury. They sent a message to the king, who had taken shelter in the Tower, and they desired a conference with him. Richard sailed down the river in a barge for that purpose; but on his approaching the shore, he saw such symptoms of tumult and insolence

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