PAGE 4
The Black Prince At Poitiers
by
Two knights were thereupon sent to look for him, and had not got far before they saw a troop of men-at-arms wearily approaching. In their midst was King John, afoot and in peril, for they had taken him from Sir Denis, and were quarrelling as to who owned him.
“Strive not about my taking,” said the king. “Lead me to the prince. I am rich enough to make you all rich.”
The brawling went on, however, until the lords who had been sent to seek him came near.
“What means all this, good sirs?” they asked. “Why do you quarrel?”
“We have the French king prisoner,” was the answer; “and there are more than ten knights and squires who claim to have taken him and his son.”
The envoys at this bade them halt and cease their clamor, on pain of their heads, and taking the king and his son from their midst they brought him to the tent of the prince of Wales, where the exalted captives were received with all courtesy.
The battle, begun at dawn, was ended by noon. In that time was slain “all the flower of France; and there was taken, with the king and the Lord Philip his son, seventeen earls, besides barons, knights, and squires.”
The men returning from the pursuit brought in twice as many prisoners as their own army numbered in all. So great was the host of captives that many of them were ransomed on the spot, and set free on their word of honor to return to Bordeaux with their ransom before Christmas.
The prince and his comrades had breakfasted that morning in dread; they supped that night in triumph. The supper party, as described by Froissart, is a true picture of the days of chivalry,–in war all cruelty, in peace all courtesy; ruthless in the field, gentle and ceremonious at the feast. Thus the picturesque old chronicler limns it,–
“The prince made the king and his son, the Lord James of Bourbon, the Lord John d’Artois, the earl of Tancarville, the Lord d’Estampes, the Earl Dammartyn, the earl of Greville, and the earl of Pertney, to sit all at one board, and other lords, knights, and squires at other tables; and always the prince served before the king as humbly as he could, and would not sit at the king’s board, for any desire that the king could make; but he said he was not sufficient to sit at the table with so great a prince as the king was; but then he said to the king, ‘Sir, for God’s sake, make none evil nor heavy cheer, though God did not this day consent to follow your will; for, sir, surely the king my father shall bear you as much honor and amity as he may do, and shall accord with you so reasonably, and ye shall ever be friends together after; and, sir, methinks you ought to rejoice, though the journey be not as you would have had it; for this day ye have won the high renown of prowess, and have passed this day in valiantness all other of your party. Sir, I say not this to mock you; for all that be on our party, that saw every man’s deeds, are plainly accorded by true sentence to give you the prize and chaplet.”
So ended that great day at Poitiers. It ended miserably enough for France, the routed soldiery themselves becoming bandits to ravage her, and the people being robbed for ransom till the whole realm was given over to misery and woe.
It ended famously for England, another proud chaplet of victory being added to the crown of glory of Edward III. and his valiant son, the great day at Crecy being matched with as great a day at Poitiers. Agincourt was still to come, the three being the most notable instances in history of the triumph of a handful of men well led over a great but feebly-handled host. The age of knighthood and chivalry reached its culmination on these three memorable days. It ended at Agincourt, “villanous gunpowder” sounding its requiem on that great field. Cannon, indeed, had been used by Edward III. in his wars; but not until after this date did firearms banish the spear and bow from the “tented field.”