plague, committed cruel ravages in France.  "None," says the contemporary
chronicler, "could count the number of the dead in Paris, young or old,
rich or poor; when death entered a house, the little children died first,
then the menials, then the parents.  In the smallest villages, as well as
in Paris, the mortality was such that at Argenteuil, for example, where
there were wont to be numbered seven hundred hearths, there remained no
more than forty or fifty."  The ravages of the armed thieves, or bandits,
who scoured the country added to those of the plague.  Let it suffice to
quote one instance.  "In Beauce, on the Orleans and Chartres side, some
brigands and prowlers, with hostile intent, dressed as pig-dealers or
cow-drivers, came to the little castle of Murs, close to Corbeil, and
finding outside the gate the master of the place, who was a knight, asked
him to get them back their pigs, which his menials, they said, had the
night before taken from them, which was false.  The master gave them
leave to go in, that they might discover their pigs and move them away.
As soon as they had crossed the drawbridge they seized upon the master,
threw off their false clothes, drew their weapons, and blew a blast upon
the bagpipe; and forthwith appeared their comrades from their
hiding-places in the neighboring woods.  They took possession of the
castle, its master and mistress, and all their folk; and, settling
themselves there, they scoured from thence the whole country, pillaging
everywhere, and filling the castle with the provisions they carried off.
At the rumor of this thievish capture, many men-at-arms in the
neighborhood rushed up to expel the thieves and retake from them the
castle.  Not succeeding in their assault, they fell back on Corbeil,
and then themselves set to ravaging the country, taking away from the
farm-houses provisions and wine without paying a dolt, and carrying them
off to Corbeil for their own use.  They became before long as much feared
and hated as the brigands; and all the inhabitants of the neighboring
villages, leaving their homes and their labor, took refuge, with their
children and what they had been able to carry off, in Paris, the only
place where they could find a little security."  Thus the population was
without any kind of regular force, anything like effectual protection;
the temporary defenders of order themselves went over, and with alacrity
too, to the side of disorder when they did not succeed in repressing it;
and the men-at-arms set readily about plundering, in their turn, the
castles and country-places whence they had been charged to drive off the
plunderers.

Let us add a still more striking example of the absence of all publicly
recognized power at this period, and of the necessity to which the
population was nearly everywhere reduced of defending itself with its own
hands, in order to escape ever so little from the evils of war and
anarchy.  It was a little while ago pointed out why and how, after the
death of Marcel and the downfall of his faction, Charles the Bad, King of
Navarre, suddenly determined upon making his peace with the regent of
France.  This peace was very displeasing to the English, allies of the
King of Navarre, and they continued to carry on war, ravaging the country
here and there, at one time victorious and at another vanquished in a
multiplication of disconnected encounters.  "I will relate," says the
Continuer of William of Nangis, "one of those incidents just as it
occurred in my neighborhood, and as I have been truthfully told about it.
The struggle there was valiantly maintained by peasants, Jacques Bonhomme
(Jack Goodfellows), as they are called.  There is a place pretty well
fortified in a little town named Longueil, not far from Compiegne, in the
diocese of Beauvais, and near to the banks of the Oise.  This place is
close to the monastery of St. Corneille-de-Compiegne.  The inhabitants
perceived that there would be danger if the enemy occupied this point;
and, after having obtained authority from the lord-regent of France and
the abbot of the monastery, they settled themselves there, provided
themselves with arms and provisions, and appointed a captain taken from
among themselves, promising the regent that they would defend this place
to the death.  Many of the villagers came thither to place themselves in
security, and they chose for captain a tall, fine man, named William a-
Larks (aux Alouettes).  He had for servant, and held as with bit and
bridle, a certain peasant of lofty stature, marvellous bodily strength,
and equal boldness, who had joined to these advantages an extreme
modesty: he was called _Big Ferre_.  These folks settled themselves at
this point to the number of about two hundred men, all tillers of the
soil, and getting a poor livelihood by the labor of their hands.  The
English, hearing it said that these folks were there and were determined
to resist, held them in contempt, and went to them, saying, 'Drive we
hence these peasants, and take we possession of this point so well
fortified and well supplied.'  They went thither to the number of two
hundred.  The folks inside had no suspicion thereof, and had left their
gates open.  The English entered boldly into the place, whilst the
peasants were in the inner courts or at the windows, a-gape at seeing men
so well armed making their way in.  The captain, William a-Larks, came
down at once with some of his people, and bravely began the fight; but he
had the worst of it, was surrounded by the English, and himself stricken
with a mortal wound.  At sight hereof, those of his folk who were still
in the courts, with Big Ferre at their head, said one to another, 'Let us
go down and sell our lives clearly, else they will slay us without
mercy.'  Gathering themselves discreetly together, they went down by
different gates, and struck out with mighty blows at the English, as if
they had been beating out their corn on the threshing-floor; their arms
went up and down again, and every blow dealt out a deadly wound.  Big
Ferre, seeing his captain laid low and almost dead already, uttered a
bitter cry, and advancing upon the English he topped them all, as he did
his own fellows, by a head and shoulders.  Raising his axe, he dealt
about him deadly blows, insomuch that in front of him the place was soon
a void; he felled to the earth all those whom he could reach; of one he
broke the head, of another he lopped off the arms; he bore himself so
valiantly that in an hour he had with his own hand slain eighteen of
them, without counting the wounded; and at this sight his comrades were
filled with ardor.  What more shall I say?  All that band of English were
forced to turn their backs and fly; some jumped into the ditches full of
water; others tried with tottering steps to regain the gates.  Big Ferre,
advancing to the spot where the English had planted their flag, took it,
killed the bearer, and told one of his own fellows to go and hurl it into
a ditch where the wall was as not yet finished.  'I cannot,' said the
other, 'there are still so many English yonder.'  'Follow me with the
flag,' said Big Ferre; and marching in front, and laying about him right
and left with his axe, he opened and cleared the way to the point
indicated, so that his comrade could freely hurl the flag into the ditch.
After he had rested a moment, he returned to the fight, and fell so
roughly on the English who remained, that all those who could fly
hastened to profit thereby.  It is said that on that day, with the help
of God and Big Ferre, who, with his own hand, as is certified, laid low
more than forty, the greater part of the English who had come to this
business never went back from it.  But the captain on our side, William
a-Larks, was there stricken mortally: he was not yet dead when the fight
ended; he was carried away to his bed; he recognized all his comrades who
were there, and soon afterwards sank under his wounds.  They buried him
in the midst of weeping, for he was wise and good."

"At the news of what had thus happened at Longueil the English were very
disconsolate, saying that it was a shame that so many and such brave
warriors should have been slain by such rustics.  Next day they came
together again from all their camps in the neighborhood, and went and
made a vigorous attack at Longueil on our folks, who no longer feared
them hardly at all, and went out of their walls to fight them.  In the
first rank was Big Ferre, of whom the English had heard so much talk.
When they saw him, and when they felt the weight of his axe and his arm,
many of those who had come to this fight would have been right glad not
to be there.  Many fled or were grievously wounded or slain.  Some of the
English nobles were taken.  If our folks had been willing to give them up
for money, as the nobles do, they might have made a great deal; but they
would not.

[Illustration: Big Ferre----376]

When the fight was over, Big Ferre, overcome with heat and fatigue, drank
a large quantity of cold water, and was forthwith seized of a fever.  He
put himself to bed without parting from his axe, which was so heavy that
a man of the usual strength could scarcely lift it from the ground with
both hands.  The English, hearing that Big Ferre was sick, rejoiced
greatly, and for fear he should get well they sent privily, round about
the place where he was lodged, twelve of their men bidden to try and rid
them of him.  On espying them from afar, his wife hurried up to his bed
where he was laid, saying to him, 'My dear Ferre, the English are coming,
and I verily believe it is for thee they are looking; what wilt thou do?'
Big Ferre, forgetting his sickness, armed himself in all haste, took his
axe which had already stricken to death so many foes, went out of his
house, and entering into his little yard, shouted to the English as soon
as he saw them, 'Ah! scoundrels, you are coming to take me in my bed; but
you shall not get me.'  He set himself against a wall to be in surety
from behind, and defended himself manfully with his good axe and his
great heart.  The English assailed him, burning to slay or to take him;
but he resisted them so wondrously, that he brought down five much
wounded to the ground, and the other seven took to flight.  Big Ferre,
returning in triumph to his bed, and heated again by the blows he had
dealt, again drank cold water in abundance, and fell sick of a more
violent fever.  A few days afterwards, sinking under his sickness, and
after having received the holy sacraments, Big Ferre went out of this
world, and was buried in the burial-place of his own village.  All his
comrades and his country wept for him bitterly, for, so long as he lived,
the English would not have come nigh this place."

There is probably some exaggeration about the exploits of Big Ferre and
the number of his victims.  The story just quoted is not, however, a
legend; authentic and simple, it has all the characteristics of a real
and true fact, just as it was picked up, partly from eye-witnesses and
partly from hearsay, by the contemporary narrator.  It is a faithful
picture of the internal state of the French nation in the fourteenth
century; a nation in labor of formation, a nation whose elements, as yet
scattered and incohesive, though under one and the same name, were
fermenting each in its own quarter and independently of the rest, with a
tendency to mutual coalescence in a powerful unity, but, as yet, far from
succeeding in it.

Externally, King Charles V. had scarcely easier work before him.  Between
himself and his great rival, Edward III., King of England, there was only
such a peace as was fatal and hateful to France.  To escape some day from
the treaty of Bretigny, and recover some of the provinces which had been
lost by it--this was what king and country secretly desired and labored
for.  Pending a favorable opportunity for promoting this higher interest,
war went on in Brittany between John of Montfort and Charles of Blois,
who continued to be encouraged and patronized, covertly, one by the King
of England, the other by the King of France.  Almost immediately after
the accession of Charles V. it broke out again between him and his
brother-in-law, Charles the Bad, King of Navarre, the former being
profoundly mistrustful, and the latter brazen-facedly perfidious, and
both detesting one another, and watching to seize the moment for taking
advantage one of the other.  The states bordering on France, amongst
others Spain and Italy, were a prey to discord and even civil wars, which
could not fail to be a source of trouble or serious embarrassment to
France.  In Spain two brothers, Peter the Cruel and Henry of Transtamare,
were disputing the throne of Castile.  Shortly after the accession of
Charles V., and in spite of his lively remonstrances, in 1267, Pope Urban
V. quitted Avignon for Rome, whence he was not to return to Avignon till
three years afterwards, and then only to die.  The Emperor of Germany
was, at this period, almost the only one of the great sovereigns of
Europe who showed for France and her kings a sincere good will.  When, in
1378, he went to Paris to pay a visit to Charles V., he was pleased to go
to St. Denis to see the tombs of Charles the Handsome and Philip of
Valois.  "In my young days," he said to the abbot, "I was nurtured at the
homes of those good kings, who showed me much kindness; I do request you
affectionately to make good prayer to God for them."  Charles V., who had
given him a very friendly reception, was, no doubt, included in this
pious request.

In order to maintain the struggle against these difficulties, within and
without, the means which Charles V.  had at his disposal were of but
moderate worth.  He had three brothers and three sisters calculated
rather to embarrass and sometimes even injure him than to be of any
service to him.  Of his brothers, the eldest, Louis, Duke of Anjou, was
restless, harsh, and bellicose.  He upheld authority with no little
energy in Languedoc, of which Charles had made him governor, but at the
same time made it detested; and he was more taken up with his own
ambitious views upon the kingdom of Naples, which Queen Joan of Hungary
had transmitted to him by adoption, than with the interests of France and
her king.  The second, John, Duke of Berry, was an insignificant prince,
who has left no strong mark on history.  The third, Philip the Bold, Duke
of Burgundy, after having been the favorite of his father, King John, was
likewise of his brother Charles V., who did not hesitate to still farther
aggrandize this vassal, already so great, by obtaining for him in
marriage the hand of Princess Marguerite, heiress to the countship of
Flanders; and this marriage, which was destined at a later period to
render the Dukes of Burgundy such formidable neighbors for the Kings of
France, was even in the lifetime of Charles V. a cause of unpleasant
complications both for France and Burgundy.  Of King Charles's three
sisters, the eldest, Joan, was married to the King of Navarre, Charles
the Bad, and much more devoted to her husband than to her brother; the
second, Mary, espoused Robert, Duke of Bar, who caused more annoyance
than he rendered service to his brother-in-law, the king of France; and
the third, Isabel, wife of Galas Visconti, Duke of Milan, was of no use
to her brother beyond the fact of contributing, as we have seen, by her
marriage, to pay a part of King John's ransom.  Charles V., by kindly and
judicious behavior in the bosom of his family, was able to keep serious
quarrels or embarrassments from arising thence; but he found therein
neither real strength nor sure support.

His civil councillors, his chancellor, William de Dormans,
cardinal-bishop of Beauvais, his minister of finance, John de la Grange,
cardinal-bishop of Amiens; his treasurer, Philip de Savoisy; and his
chamberlain and private secretary, Bureau de la Riviere, were,
undoubtedly, men full of ability and zeal for his service, for he had
picked them out and maintained them unchangeably in their offices.  There
is reason to believe that they conducted themselves discreetly, for we do
not observe that after their master's death there was any outburst
against them, on the part either of court or people, of that violent and
deadly hatred which has so often caused bloodshed in the history of
France.  Bureau de la Riviere was attacked and prosecuted, without,
however, becoming one of the victims of judicial authority at the command
of political passions.  None of Charles V.'s councillors exercised over
his master that preponderating and confirmed influence which makes a man
a premier minister.  Charles V.  himself assumed the direction of his own
government, exhibiting unwearied vigilance, "but without hastiness and
without noise."  There is a work, as yet unpublished, of M. Leopold
Delisle, which is to contain a complete explanatory catalogue of all the
_Mandements et Actes divers de Charles V_.  This catalogue, which forms a
pendant to a similar work performed by M. Delisle for the reign of Philip
Augustus, is not yet concluded; and, nevertheless, for the first seven
years only of Charles V.'s reign, from 1364 to 1371, there are to be
found enumerated and described in it eight hundred and fifty-four
_mandements, ordonnances et actes divers de Charles V._, relating to the
different branches of administration, and to daily incidents of
government; acts all bearing the impress of an intellect active,
farsighted, and bent upon becoming acquainted with everything, and
regulating everything, not according to a general system, but from actual
and exact knowledge.  Charles always proved himself reflective,
unhurried, and anxious solely to comport himself in accordance with the
public interests and with good sense.  He was one day at table in his
room with some of his intimates, when news was brought him that the
English had laid siege, in Guienne, to a place where there was only a
small garrison, not in a condition to hold out unless it were promptly
succored.  "The king," says Christine de Pisan, "showed no great outward
emotion, and quite coolly, as if the topic of conversation were something
else, turned and looked about him, and, seeing one of his secretaries,
summoned him courteously, and bade him, in a whisper, write word to Louis
de Sancerre, his marshal, to come to him directly.  They who were there
were amazed that, though the matter was so weighty, the king took no
great account of it.  Some young esquires who were waiting upon him at
table were bold enough to say to him,

'Sir, give us the money to fit ourselves out, as many of us are of your
household, for to go on this business; we will be new-made knights, and
will go and raise the siege.'  The king began to smile, and said, 'It is
not new-made knights that are suitable; they must be all old.'  Seeing
that he said no more about it, some of them added, 'What are your orders,
sir, touching this affair, which is of haste?'  'It is not well to give
orders in haste; when we see those to whom it is meet to speak, we will
give our orders.'"

On another occasion, the treasurer of Nimes had died, and the king
appointed his successor.  His brother, the Duke of Anjou, came and asked
for the place on behalf of one of his own intimates, saying that he to
whom the king had granted it was a man of straw, and without credit.
Charles caused inquiries to be made, and then said to the duke, "Truly,
fair brother, he for whom you have spoken to me is a rich man, but one of
little sense and bad behavior."  "Assuredly," said the Duke of Anjou, "he
to whom you have given the office is a man of straw, and incompetent to
fill it."  "Why, prithee?" asked the king.  "Because he is a poor man,
the son of small laboring folks, who are still tillers of the ground in
our country."  "Ah!" said Charles; "is there nothing more?  Assuredly,
fair brother, we should prize more highly the poor man of wisdom than the
profligate ass;" and he maintained in the office him whom he had put
there.

The government of Charles V. was the personal government of an
intelligent, prudent, and honorable king, anxious for the interests of
the state, at home and abroad, as well as for his own; with little
inclination for, and little confidence in, the free co-operation of the
country in its own affairs, but with wit enough to cheerfully call upon
it when there was any pressing necessity, and accepting it then without
chicanery or cheating, but safe to go back as soon as possible to that
sole dominion, a medley of patriotism and selfishness, which is the very
insufficient and very precarious resource of peoples as yet incapable of
applying their liberty to the art of their own government.  Charles V.
had recourse three times, in July, 1367, and in May and December, 1369,
to a convocation of the states-general, in order to be put in a position
to meet the political and financial difficulties of France.  At the
second of these assemblies, when the chancellor, William de Dormans, had
explained the position of the kingdom, the king himself rose up "for to
say to all that if they considered that he had done anything he ought not
to have done, they should tell him so, and he would amend what he had
done, for there was still time to repair it, if he had done too much or
not enough."  The question at that time was as to entertaining the appeal
of the barons of Aquitaine to the King of France as suzerain of the
Prince of Wales, whose government had become intolerable, and to thus
make a first move to struggle out of the humiliating pace of Bretigny.
Such a step, and such words, do great honor to the memory of the pacific
prince who was at that time bearing the burden of the government of
France.  It was Charles V.'s good fortune to find amongst his servants
a man who was destined to be the thunderbolt of war and the glory of
knighthood of his reign.  About 1314, fifty years before Charles's
accession, there was born at the castle of Motte-Broon, near Rennes, in a
family which could reckon two ancestors amongst Godfrey de Bouillon's
comrades in the first crusade, Bertrand du Guesclin, "the ugliest child
from Rennes to Dinan," says a contemporary chronicle, flat-nosed and
swarthy, thick-set, broad-shouldered, big-headed, a bad fellow, a regular
wretch, according to his own mother's words, given to violence, always
striking or being struck, whom his tutor abandoned without having been
able to teach him to read.  At sixteen years of age, he escaped from the
paternal mansion, went to Rennes, entered upon a course of adventures,
quarrels, challenges, and tourneys, in which he distinguished himself by
his strength, his valor, and likewise his sense of honor.  He joined the
cause of Charles of Blois against John of Montfort, when the two were
claimants for the duchy of Brittany; but at the end of thirty years,
"neither the good of him, nor his prowess, were as yet greatly renowned,"
says Froissart, "save amongst the knights who were about him in the
country of Brittany."  But Charles V., at that time regent, had taken
notice of him in 1359, at the siege of Melun, where Du Guesclin had for
the first time borne arms in the service of France.  When, in 1364,
Charles became king, he said to Boucicaut, marshal of France, "Boucicaut,
get you hence, with such men as you have, and ride towards Normandy; you
will there find Sir Bertrand du Guesclin , hold yourselves in readiness,
I pray you, you and he, to recover from the King of Navarre the town of
Mantes, which would make us masters of the River Seine."  "Right
willingly, sir," answered Boucicaut; and a few weeks afterwards, on the
7th of April, 1364, Boucicaut, by stratagem, entered Mantes with his
troop, and Du Guesclin, coming up suddenly with his, dashed into the town
at a gallop, shouting, "St. Yves!  Guesclin! death, death to all
Navarrese!"  The two warriors did the same next day at the gates of
Meulan, three leagues from Mantes.  "Thus were the two cities taken,
whereat King Charles V. was very joyous when he heard the news; and the
King of Navarre was very wroth, for he set down as great hurt the loss of
Mantes and of Meulan, which made a mighty fine entrance for him into
France."

It was at Rheims, during the ceremony of his coronation, that Charles V.
heard of his two officers' success.  The war thus begun against the King
of Navarre was hotly prosecuted on both sides.  Charles the Bad hastily
collected his forces, Gascons, Normans, and English, and put them under
the command of John de Grailli, called the Captal of Buch, an officer of
renown.  Du Guesclin recruited in Normandy, Picardy, and Brittany, and
amongst the bands of warriors which were now roaming all over France.
The plan of the Captal of Buch was to go and disturb the festivities at
Rheims, but at Cockerel, on the banks of the Eure, two leagues from
Evreux, he met the troops of Du Guesclin; and the two armies, pretty
nearly equal in number, halted in view of one another.  Du Guesclin held
counsel, and said to his comrades in arms, "Sirs, we know that in front
of us we have in the Captal as gallant a knight as can be found to-day on
all the earth; so long as he shall be on the spot he will do us great
hurt; set we then a-horseback thirty of ours, the most skilful and the
boldest; they shall give heed to nothing but to make straight towards the
Captal, break through the press, and get right up to him; then they shall
take him, pin him, carry him off amongst them, and lead him away some
whither in safety, without waiting for the end of the battle.  If he can
be taken and kept in such way, the day will be ours, so astounded will
his men be at his capture."  Battle ensued at all points [May 16, 1364];
and, whilst it led to various encounters, with various results, "the
picked thirty, well mounted on the flower of steeds," says Froissart,
"and with no thought but for their enterprise, came all compact together
to where was the Captal, who was fighting right valiantly with his axe,
and was dealing blows so mighty that none durst come nigh him; but the
thirty broke through the press by dint of their horses, made right up to
him, halted hard by him, took him and shut him in amongst them by force;
then they voided the place, and bare him away in that state, whilst his
men, who were like to mad, shouted, 'A rescue for the Captal! a rescue!'
but nought could avail them, or help them; and the Captal was carried off
and placed in safety.  In this bustle and turmoil, whilst the Navarrese
and English were trying to follow the track of the Captal, whom they saw
being taken off before their eyes, some French agreed with hearty good
will to bear down on the Captal's banner, which was in a thicket, and
whereof the Navarrese made their own standard.  Thereupon there was a
great tumult and hard fighting there, for the banner was well guarded,
and by good men; but at last it was seized, won, torn, and cast to the
ground.  The French were masters of the battle-field; Sir Bertrand and
his Bretons acquitted themselves loyally, and ever kept themselves well
together, giving aid one to another; but it cost them dear in men."

Charles was highly delighted, and, after the victory, resolutely
discharged his kingly part, rewarding, and also punishing.  Du Guesclin
was made marshal of Normandy, and received as a gift the countship of
Longueville, confiscated from the King of Navarre.  Certain Frenchmen who
had become confidants of the King of Navarre were executed, and Charles
V. ordered his generals to no longer show any mercy for the future to
subjects of the kingdom who were found in the enemy's ranks.  The war
against Charles the Bad continued.  Charles V., encouraged by his
successes, determined to take part likewise in that which was still going
on between the two claimants to the duchy of Brittany, Charles of Blois
and John of Montfort.  Du Guesclin was sent to support Charles of Blois;
"whereat he was greatly rejoiced," says Froissart, "for he had always
held the said lord Charles for his rightful lord."  The Count and
Countess of Blois "received him right joyously and pleasantly, and the
best part of the barons of Brittany likewise had lord Charles of Blois in
regard and affection."  Du Guesclin entered at once on the campaign, and
marched upon Auray, which was being besieged by the Count of Montfort.
But there he was destined to encounter the most formidable of his
adversaries.  John of Montfort had claimed the support of his patron, the
king of England, and John Chandos, the most famous of the English
commanders, had applied to the Prince of Wales to know what he was to do.
"You may go full well," the prince had answered, "since the French are
going for the Count of Blois; I give you good leave."  Chandos,
delighted, set hastily to work recruiting.  Only a few Aquitanians
decided to join him, for they were beginning to be disgusted with English
rule, and the French national spirit was developing itself throughout
Gascony, even in the Prince of Wales's immediate circle.  Chandos
recruited scarcely any but English or Bretons, and when, to the great joy
of the Count of Montfort, he arrived before Auray, "he brought," says
Froissart, "full sixteen hundred fighting men, knights, and squires,
English and Breton, and about eight or nine hundred archers."  Du
Guesclin's troops were pretty nearly equal in number, and not less brave,
but less well disciplined, and probably also less ably commanded.  The
battle took place on the 29th of September, 1364, before Auray.  The
attendant circumstances and the result have already been recounted in the
twentieth chapter of this history; Charles of Blois was killed, and Du
Guesclin was made prisoner.  The cause of John of Montfort was clearly
won; and he, on taking possession of the duchy of Brittany, asked nothing
better than to acknowledge himself vassal of the King of France, and
swear fidelity to him.  Charles V. had too much judgment not to foresee
that, even after a defeat, a peace which gave a lawful and definite
solution to the question of Brittany, rendered his relations and means of
influence with this important province much more to be depended upon than
any success which a prolonged war might promise him.  Accordingly he made
peace at Guerande, on the 11th of April, 1365, after having disputed the
conditions inch by inch; and some weeks previously, on the 6th of March,
at the indirect instance of the King of Navarre, who, since the battle of
Gocherel, had felt himself in peril, Charles V. had likewise put an end
to his open struggle against his perfidious neighbor, of whom he
certainly did not cease to be mistrustful.  Being thus delivered from
every external war and declared enemy, the wise King of France was at
liberty to devote himself to the re-establishment of internal peace and
of order throughout his kingdom, which was in the most pressing need
thereof.

We have, no doubt, even in our own day, cruel experience of the disorders
and evils of war; but we can form, one would say, but a very incomplete
idea of what they were in the fourteenth century, without any of those
humane administrative measures, still so ineffectual,--provisionings,
hospitals, ambulances, barracks, and encampments,--which are taken in the
present day to prevent or repair them.  The _Recueil des Ordonnances des
Lois de France_ is full of safeguards granted by Charles V. to
monasteries and hospices and communes, which implored his protection,
that they might have a little less to suffer than the country in general.
We will borrow from the best informed and the most intelligent of the
contemporary chroniclers, the Continuer of William of Nangis, a picture
of those sufferings and the causes of them.  "There was not," he says,
"in Anjou, in Touraine, in Beauce, near Orleans and up to the approaches
of Paris, any corner of the country which was free from plunderers and
robbers.  They were so numerous everywhere, either in little forts
occupied by them or in the villages and country-places, that peasants and
tradesfolks could not travel but at great expense and great peril.  The
very guards told off to defend cultivators and travellers took part most
shamefully in harassing and despoiling them.  It was the same in Burgundy
and the neighboring countries.  Some knights who called themselves
friends of the king and of the king's majesty, and whose names I am not
minded to set down here, kept in their service brigands who were quite as
bad.  What is far more strange is, that when those folks went into the
cities, Paris or elsewhere, everybody knew them and pointed them out, but
none durst lay a hand upon them.  I saw one night at Paris, in the suburb
of St. Germain des Pres, while the people were sleeping, some brigands
who were abiding with their chieftains in the city, attempting to sack
certain hospices: they were arrested and imprisoned in the Chatelet; but,
before long, they were got off, declared innocent, and set at liberty
without undergoing the least punishment--a great encouragement for them
and their like to go still farther.  .  .  .  When the king gave Bertrand
du Guesclin the countship of Longueville, in the diocese of Rouen, which
had belonged to Philip, brother of the King of Navarre, Du Guesclin
promised the king that he would drive out by force of arms all the
plunderers and robbers, those enemies of the kingdom; but he did nothing
of the sort; nay, the Bretons even of Du Guesclin, on returning from
Rouen, pillaged and stole in the villages whatever they found there--
garments, horses, sheep, oxen, and beasts of burden and of tillage."

Charles V. was not, as Louis XII. and Henry IV. were, of a disposition
full of affection, and sympathetically inclined towards his people; but
he was a practical man, who, in his closet and in the library growing up
about him, took thought for the interests of his kingdom as well as for
his own; he had at heart the public good, and lawlessness was an
abomination to him.  He had just purchased, at a ransom of a hundred
thousand francs, the liberty of Bertrand du Guesclin, who had remained a
prisoner in the hands of John Chandos, after the battle of Auray.  An
idea occurred to him that the valiant Breton might be of use to him in
extricating France from the deplorable condition to which she had been
reduced by the bands of plunderers roaming everywhere over her soil.  We
find in the Chronicle in verse of Bertrand Guesclin, by Cuvelier, a
troubadour of the fourteenth century, a detailed account of the king's
perplexities on this subject, and of the measures he took to apply a
remedy.  We cannot regard this account as strictly historical; but it is
a picture, vivid and morally true, of events and men as they were
understood and conceived to be by a contemporary, a mediocre poet, but a
spirited narrator.  We will reproduce the principal features, modifying
the language to make it more easily intelligible, but without altering
the fundamental character.

"There were so many folk who went about pillaging the country of France
that the king was sad and doleful at heart.  He summoned his council, and
said to them, 'What shall we do with this multitude of thieves who go
about destroying our people?  If I send against them my valiant baronage
I lose my noble barons, and then I shall never more have any joy of my
life.  If any could lead these folk into Spain against the miscreant and
tyrant Pedro, who put our sister to death, I would like it well, whatever
it might cost me.'

[Illustration: Bertrand du Guesclin----388]

"Bertrand du Guesclin gave ear to the king, and 'Sir King,' said he, 'it
is my heart's desire to cross over the seas and go fight the heathen with
the edge of the sword; but if I could come nigh this folk which Both
anger you, I would deliver the kingdom from them.'  'I should like it
well,' said the king.  'Say no more,' said Bertrand to him; 'I will learn
their pleasure; give it no further thought.'

"Bertrand du Guesclin summoned his herald, and said to him, 'Go thou to
the Grand Company and have all the captains assembled; thou wilt go and
demand for me a safe-conduct, for I have a great desire to parley with
them.'  The herald mounted his horse, and went a-seeking these folk
toward Chalon-sur-la-Saone.  They were seated together at dinner, and
were drinking good wine from the cask they had pierced.  'Sirs,' said the
herald, 'the blessing of Jesus be on you!  Bertrand du Guesclin prayeth
you to let him parley with all in company.'  ' By my faith, gentle
herald,' said Hugh de Calverley, who was master of the English, 'I will
readily see Bertrand here, and will give him good wine; I can well give
it him, in sooth, I do assure you, for it costs me nothing.'  Then the
herald departed, and returned to his lord, and told the news of this
company.

"So away rode Bertrand, and halted not; and he rode so far that he came
to the Grand Company, and then did greet them.  'God keep,' said he, 'the
companions I see yonder!'  Then they bowed down; each abased himself.  'I
vow to God,' said Bertrand, 'whosoever will be pleased to believe me; I
will make you all rich.'  And they answered, 'Right welcome here sir, we
will all do whatsoever is your pleasure.'  'Sirs,' said Bertrand, 'be
pleased to listen to me; wherefore I am come I will tell unto you.  I
come by order of the king in whose keeping is France, and who would be
right glad, to save his people, that ye should come with me whither I
should be glad to go into good company I fain would bring ye.  If we
would all of us look into our hearts, we might full truly consider that
we have done enough to damn our souls; think we but how we have dealt
with life, outraged ladies and burned houses, slain men, children, and
everybody set to ransom, how we have eaten up cows, oxen, and sheep,
drunk good wines, and done worse than robbers do.  Let us do honor to God
and forsake the devil.  Ask, if it may please you, all the companions,
all the knights, and all the barons; if you be of accord, we will go to
the king, and I will have the gold got ready which we do promise you I
would fain get together all my friends to make the journey we so strongly
desire.'"

Du Guesclin then explained, in broad terms which left the choice to the
Grand Company, what this journey was which was so much desired.  He spoke
of the King of Cyprus, of the Saracens of Granada, of the Pope of
Avignon, and especially of Spain and the King of Castile, Pedro the
Cruel, "scoundrel-murderer of his wife (Blanche of Bourbon)," on whom,
above all, Du Gueselin wished to draw down the wrath of his hearers.  "In
Spain," he said to them, we might largely profit, for the country is a
good one for leading a good life, and there are good wines which are neat
and clear."  Nearly all present, whereof were twenty-five famous
captains, "confirmed what was said by Bertrand."  "Sirs," said he to them
at last, "listen to me: I will go my way and speak to the King of the
Franks; I will get for you those two hundred thousand francs; you shall
come and dine with me at Paris, according to my desire, when the time
shall have come for it; and you shall see the king, who will be rejoiced
thereat.  We will have no evil suspicion in anything, for I never was
inclined to treason, and never shall be as long as I live."  Then said
the valiant knights and esquires to him, "Never was more valiant man seen
on earth; and in you we have more belief and faith than in all the
prelates and great clerics who dwell at Avignon or in France."

When Du Gueselin returned to Paris, "Sir," said he to the king, "I have
accomplished your wish; I will put out of your kingdom all the worst folk
of this Grand Company, and I will so work it that everything shall be
saved."  "Bertrand," said the king to him, "may the Holy Trinity be
pleased to have you in their keeping, and may I see you a long while in
joy and health!"  "Noble king," said Bertrand, "the captains have a very
great desire to come to Paris, your good city."  "I am heartily willing,"
said the king; "if they come, let them assemble at the Temple; elsewhere
there is too much people and too much abundance; there might be too much
alarm.  Since they have reconciled themselves to us, I would have nought
but friendship with them."

The poet concludes the negotiation thus: "At the bidding of Bertrand,
when he understood the pleasure of the noble King of France, all the
captains came to Paris in perfect safety; they were conducted straight to
the Temple; there they were feasted and dined nobly, and received many a
gift, and all was sealed."

Matters went, at the outset at least, as Du Guesclin had promised to the
king on the one side, and on the other to the captains of the Grand
Company.  There was, in point of fact, a civil war raging in Spain
between Don Pedro the Cruel, King of Castile, and his natural brother,
Henry of Transtamare, and that was the theatre on which Du Guesclin had
first proposed to launch the vagabond army which he desired to get out of
France.  It does not appear, however, that at their departure from
Burgundy at the end of November, 1365, this army and its chiefs had in
this respect any well-considered resolution, or any well-defined aim in
their movements.  They made first for Avignon, and Pope Urban V., on
hearing of their approach, was somewhat disquieted, and sent to them one
of his cardinals to ask them what was their will.  If we may believe the
poet-chronicler, Cuvelier, the mission was anything but pleasing to the
cardinal, who said to one of his confidants, "I am grieved to be set to
this business, for I am sent to a pack of madmen who have not an hour's,
nay, not even half-an-hour's conscience."  The captains replied that they
were going to fight the heathen either in Cyprus or in the kingdom of
Granada, and that they demanded of the pope absolution of their sins and
two hundred thousand livres, which Du Guesclin had promised them in his
name.  The pope cried out against this.  "Here," said he, "at Avignon, we
have money given us for absolution, and we must give it gratis to yonder
folks, and give them money also: it is quite against reason."  Du
Guesclin insisted.  "Know you," said he to the cardinal, "that there are
in this army many folks who care not a whit for absolution, and who would
much rather have money; we are making them proper men in spite of
themselves, and are leading them abroad that they may do no mischief to
Christians.  Tell that to the pope; for else we could not take them
away."  The pope yielded, and gave them the two hundred thousand livres.
He obtained the money by levies upon the population of Avignon.  They, no
doubt, complained loudly, for the chiefs of the Grand Company were
informed thereof, and Du Guesclin said, "By the faith that I owe to the
Holy Trinity, I will not take a denier of that which these poor folks
have given; let the pope and the clerics give us of their own; we desire
that all they who have paid the tax do recover their money without losing
a doit; "and, according to contemporary chronicles, the vagabond army did
not withdraw until they had obtained this satisfaction.  The piety of the
middle ages, though sincere, was often less disinterested and more rough
than it is commonly represented.

On arriving at Toulouse from Avignon, Du Guesclin and his bands, with a
strength, it is said, of thirty thousand men, took the decided resolution
of going into Spain to support the cause of Prince Henry of Transtamare
against the King of Castile his brother, Don Pedro the Cruel.  The Duke
of Anjou, governor of Languedoc, gave them encouragement, by agreement,
no doubt with King Charles V., and from anxiety on his own part to rid
his province of such inconvenient visitors.  On the 1st of January, 1366,
Du Guesclin entered Barcelona, whither Henry of Transtamare came to join
him.  There is no occasion to give a detailed account here of that
expedition, which appertains much more to the history of Spain than to
that of France.  There was a brief or almost no struggle.  Henry of
Transtamare was crowned king, first at Calahorra, and afterwards at
Burgos.  Don Pedro, as much despised before long as he was already
detested, fled from Castile to Andalusia, and from Andalusia to Portugal,
whose king would not grant him an asylum in his dominions, and he ended
by embarking at Corunna for Bordeaux, to implore the assistance of the
Prince of Wales, who gave him a warm and a magnificent reception.  Edward
III., King of England, had been disquieted by the march of the Grand
Company into Spain, and had given John Chandos and the rest of his chief
commanders in Guienne orders to be vigilant in preventing the English
from taking part in the expedition against his cousin the King of
Castile; but several of the English chieftains, serving in the bands and
with Du Guesclin, set at nought this prohibition, and contributed
materially to the fall of Don Pedro.  Edward III. did not consider that
the matter was any infraction, on the part of France, of the treaty of
Bretigne, and continued to live at peace with Charles V., testifying his
displeasure, however, all the same.  But when Don Pedro had reached
Bordeaux, and had told the Prince of Wales that, if he obtained the
support of England, he would make the prince's eldest son, Edward, king
of Galicia, and share amongst the prince's warriors the treasure he had
left in Castile, so well concealed that he alone knew where, "the knights
of the Prince of Wales," says Froissart, "gave ready heed to his words,
for English and Gascons are by nature covetous."  The Prince of Wales
immediately summoned the barons of Aquitaine, and on the advice they gave
him sent four knights to London to ask for instructions from the king his
father.  Edward III. assembled his chief councillors at Westminster, and
finally "it seemed to all course due and reasonable on the part of the
Prince of Wales to restore and conduct the King of Spain to his kingdom;
to which end they wrote official letters from the King and the council of
England to the prince and the barons of Aquitaine.  When the said barons
heard the letters read they said to the prince, 'My lord, we will obey
the command of the king our master and your father; it is but reason, and
we will serve you on this journey and King Pedro also; but we would know
who shall pay us and deliver us our wages, for one does not take
men-at-arms away from their homes to go a warfare in a foreign land,
without they be paid and delivered.  If it were a matter touching our
dear lord your father's affairs, or your own, or your honor or our
country's, we would not speak thereof so much beforehand as we do.'  Then
the Prince of Wales looked towards the Prince Don Pedro, and said to him,
'Sir King, you hear what these gentlemen say; to answer is for you, who
have to employ them.'  Then the King Don Pedro answered the prince, 'My
dear cousin, so far as my gold, my silver, and all my treasure which I
have brought with me hither, and which is not a thirtieth part so great
as that which there is yonder, will go, I am ready to give it and share
it amongst your gentry.'  'You say well,' said the prince, 'and for the
residue I will be debtor to them, and I will lend you all you shall have
need of until we be in Castile.'  'By my head,' answered the King Don
Pedro, you will do me great grace and great courtesy.'"

When the English and Gascon chieftains who had followed Du Guesclin
into Spain heard of the resolutions of their king, Edward III., and the
preparations made by the Prince of Wales for going and restoring Don
Pedro to the throne of Castile, they withdrew from the cause which they
had just brought to an issue to the advantage of Henry of Transtamare,
separated from the French captain who had been their leader, and marched
back into Aquitaine, quite ready to adopt the contrary cause, and follow
the Prince of Wales in the service of Don Pedro.  The greater part of the
adventurers, Burgundian, Picard, Champagnese, Norman, and others who had
enlisted in the bands which Du Guesclin had marched out of France,
likewise quitted him, after reaping the fruits of their raid, and
recrossed the Pyrenees to go and resume in France their life of roving
and pillage.  There remained in Spain about fifteen hundred men-at-arms
faithful to Du Guesclin, himself faithful to Henry of Transtamare, who
had made him Constable of Castile.

Amidst all these vicissitudes, and at the bottom of all events as well as
of all hearts, there still remained the great fact of the period, the
struggle between the two kings of France and England for dominion in that
beautiful country which, in spite of its dismemberment, kept the name of
France.  Edward III. in London, and the Prince of Wales at Bordeaux,
could not see, without serious disquietude, the most famous warrior
amongst the French crossing the Pyrenees with a following for the most
part French, and setting upon the throne of Castile a prince necessarily
allied to the King of France.  The question of rivalry between the two
kings and the two peoples had thus been transferred into Spain, and for
the moment the victory remained with France.  After several months'
preparation the prince of Wales, purchasing the complicity of the King of
Navarre, marched into Spain in February, 1367, with an army of twenty-
seven thousand men, and John Chandos, the most able of the English
warriors.  Henry of Transtamare had troops more numerous, but less
disciplined and experienced.  The two armies joined battle on the 3d of
April, 1367, at Najara or Navarette, not far from the Ebro.  Disorder and
even sheer rout soon took place amongst that of Henry, who flung himself
before the fugitives, shouting, "Why would ye thus desert and betray me,
ye who have made me King of Castile?  Turn back and stand by me; and by
the grace of God the day shall be ours."  Du Guesclin and his men-at-arms
maintained the fight with stubborn courage, but at last they were beaten,
and either slain or taken.  To the last moment Du Guesclin, with his back
against a wall, defended himself heroically against a host of assailants.
The Prince of Wales, coming up, cried out, "Gentle marshals of France,
and you too, Bertrand, yield yourselves to me."  "Why, yonder men are my
foes," cried the king, Don Pedro; "it is they who took from me my
kingdom, and on them I mean to take vengeance."  Du Guesclin, darting
forward, struck so rough a blow with his sword at Don Pedro, that he
brought him fainting to the ground, and then turning to the Prince of
Wales said, "Nathless I give up my sword to the most valiant prince on
earth."  The Prince of Wales took the sword, and charged the Captal of
Buch with the prisoner's keeping.  "Aha!  sir Bertrand," said the Captal
to Du Guesclin, "you took me at the battle of Cocherel, and to-day I've
got you."  "Yes," replied Du Guesclin; "but at Cocherel I took you
myself, and here you are only my keeper."

The battle of Najara being over, and Don Pedro the Cruel restored to a
throne which he was not to occupy for long, the Prince of Wales returned
to Bordeaux with his army and his prisoner Du Guesclin, whom he treated
courteously, at the same time that he kept him pretty strictly.  One of
the English chieftains who had been connected with Du Guesclin at the
time of his expedition into Spain, Sir Hugh Calverley, tried one day to
induce the Prince of Wales to set the French warrior at liberty.  "Sir,"
said he, "Bertrand is a right loyal knight, but he is not a rich man, or
in estate to pay much money; he would have good need to end his captivity
on easy terms."  "Let be," said the prince; "I have no care to take aught
of his; I will cause his life to be prolonged in spite of himself: if he
were released, he would be in battle again, and always a-making war."