Under the Flag of France: A Tale of Bertrand du Guesclin

by David Ker

  CHAPTER XXXII

  News of an Old Friend

  Years rolled by, and brought many startling changes.

  The Black Prince slept his last sleep in a stately tomb beneath theshadow of Canterbury Cathedral. His terrible father, Edward III., hadfollowed him to the grave, leaving all his mighty schemes of conquestto come to nought. Sir John Chandos had died in battle, as he hadalways hoped to do; and many another great captain was missing from theranks of English chivalry. Meanwhile Archbishop William de Wykeham,best and kindliest of scholars and Churchmen, was leaving a moreenduring monument than all their blood-won honours, by planting atWinchester the germ of one of England's noblest schools.

  The English crown had passed to the weak and worthless Richard II., inwhose early years the whole land was shaken by the terrible convulsionof "Wat Tyler's Rising." Of this despairing effort of the downtroddenpeople to obtain the right to be treated as human beings, the greatesthistorian of the age coolly wrote: "There happened in England greatcommotion among the lower ranks of the people, by which England wasnear ruined without resource, and all through the too great comfort ofthe commonalty"! What that "too great comfort" was any man who can bearto read "The Vision of Piers Plowman" (written by one who had himselfseen all the horrors he described) may judge for himself.

  Meanwhile Du Guesclin had found his right place at last. The poorBreton knight who had been the scoff of his own kindred now held thesword of "Constable" (commander-in-chief) of all the armies of France,and was the chosen friend and adviser of a king worthy of him, Charlesthe Wise.

  But only the faint echoes of these great events reached Alured and Hugode Claremont in their quiet Hampshire home, where they were busied withthe welfare of their vassals instead of seeking renown for themselves.Every day the brothers held open court in their hall, and any of theirtenants who had a complaint to make, however slight, was sure of apatient hearing and a just award, in the true spirit of the grand oldtext carved over the door by which the suppliants entered--

  "He shall deliver the needy when he crieth, the poor also, and him thathath no helper."

  In fact, the bitter suffering they had themselves endured had taughtthe two brave men to feel for others, and all their vassals had learnedto look up to them, not with awe, but with trustful affection. Wasthere a family in distress, their eyes turned at once to the castle.Did two neighbours have a dispute which they could not settle, theirfirst thought was to appeal to the decision of their lords. Did strifearise between two hot-headed lads, Alured or Hugo was sure to hear ofit, and to blow it away with some hearty jest that set both quarrellerslaughing at their own folly. Was a school to be founded, a churchbuilt, a poverty-stricken hamlet relieved, a house of refugeestablished for worn-out labourers or disabled soldiers, who so forwardas the "good lords of Claremont"?

  So year after year glided by, and the slim youths were now two statelymen of middle age.

  It was the morning of Christmas Day, 1379, and the lords of Claremont,having attended prayers as usual in the quiet old village church (thechancel of which held the sculptured tombs of their father and hisancestors), were feasting in their castle-hall on boar's head, venisonpasty, roast goose, and other dainties of the season, a goodly portionof which had been sent to every house in the village.

  The mirth was at its height, when a trumpet-blast rang from the outergate, and a serving-man came to report that a knight of Brittany cravedlodging for himself and his train, whose name was Sir Olivier deClisson.

  "De Clisson!" echoed Hugo. "Hearest thou, Alured? He was our comrade inmany a fray ere he turned to the French party on some displeasure donehim by old John of Chandos."

  "Ay, truly; and mayhap he can give us tidings of Du Guesclin, for theybe countrymen and friends. Admit him forthwith; he is right welcome."

  A heavy step came clanging up the stair, and in the doorway stood thetowering form of the best knight in Brittany after Du Guesclin himself.

  His iron face bore no sign of age, though years had passed since theylast beheld it, but a few scars were added to those that had seamed itbefore, and its grimness was deepened by the empty socket of the eyethat he had lost at Auray, when still fighting in the ranks of England.

  His change to the French side, however, made no difference in thewelcome given him by his old friends; for in that age the knights ofBrittany, Guienne, and Gascony changed sides so often that neither theynor those whose side they deserted thought anything about it.

  "Welcome, brave De Clisson!" cried Alured, coming forward with extendedhands. "What happy chance brings thee just in time to share ourChristmas cheer?"

  "I had an errand to your king from my liege lord the King of France"(the famous Breton seemed quite to forget how lately he had beenfighting against his "liege lord" with all his might), "and, being onceover the narrow seas, I was loth to repass them without visiting whatfew of my old brothers-in-arms war and time have left me in this land."

  "Be assured, not one of them is more pleased at thy coming than we,good Sir Olivier," said Hugo, heartily. "Our seneschal shall marshalthee forthwith to thy chamber, and the feast shall wait thy comingagain."

  De Clisson did not make it wait long, being hungry after his ride, and,in any case, the rough soldier was not one to waste much time inpersonal adornment. He was soon seated at the board, and in a full tideof gossip on the stirring events he had lately witnessed, in which DuGuesclin's name came up again and again.

  No one, in fact, could better speak on this point than he, having bornea leading part in the marvellous victories by which Bertrand, asConstable of France, had won back from the English the provinces ofSaintonge and Poitou, and most of Brittany as well; and Clisson hadfought side by side with his great countryman as stoutly as he hadfought against him a few years before.

  "Our Bertrand's name is now on the lips of every man in France," saidhe with a heartiness which showed that envy, at least, was not amonghis many vices; "and the minstrels have made a romaunt concerning himand his lady, which men call 'Beauty and the Beast,' that tells how afair damsel consented to wed a monster that dwelt all alone in anenchanted castle, and thereby she brake the spell that bound him, andhe was changed to as goodly a prince as lady's eye could rest on.Marry, 'twere beyond the power of magic," added he, with a hoarselaugh, "to do as much for our Bertrand!"

  "Might such a thing be, the Lady Tiphaine were the very dame to do it,"cried Alured. "I trust the noble lady lives and thrives?"

  "Alas, no!" said Clisson, with a passing cloud on his rugged face. "Shedied some years agone, and it well-nigh brake Bertrand's heart; but mensay that at the last she foretold to him that he should follow her erelong, and that comforted him somewhat."

  Once launched on this favourite topic, Olivier poured forth all hisenthusiasm for his chosen hero.

  "It seems but yester-eve that our Bertrand was in prison at Bordeauxafter the fight of Navaretta; and when there was question of hisransom, the Black Prince sent me and Sir Eustace d'Ambreticourt tobring Bertrand to his presence, for to speak with him thereon. And whenwe came to the prison, lo! there sat Bertrand amid the gaoler'schildren, with a chubby boy on each knee, and on his shoulder a littlelass of three years old, plucking at his black beard with a hand nobigger than an oak-leaf, and chirruping to him like any bird! Thenlaughed Sir Eustace (he was ever a merry man) and thus he spake: 'Sohelp me St. Michael, men call Sir Bertrand the terror of the English,but methinks here be some English who fear him not a whit!'"

  "It was ever his wont," said Alured, "to be debonair to children andladies, though no man may abide his stroke. Men say that when he wasransomed yon time thou speak'st of, he got back to his home like abeggar, having given all he had to certain poor folk that he metwandering on the highway in distress."

  "And they say truth; our Bertrand had ever an open hand and kind heart,and therefore is he loved of the poor. Marry, 'twas a sight to see howall Paris was moved when he rode into it on the day when the king mad
ehim Constable of France!"

  "Thou sawest it thyself, then?" cried both brothers at once.

  "That did I, and I would not have missed the sight for a thousandcrowns. Into the town rode Bertrand, plainly habited as a simpleburgher, with but one follower at his back. But, even in such guise,the people knew him--in truth, his face is not to be lightlyforgotten--and out into the streets they swarmed by hundreds and bythousands, shouting till the air rang, 'Long live our Bertrand! ToBertrand the Constable's sword! None else is so worthy of it!'"

  "There they spake but truth," said Alured, with sparkling eyes.

  "But not so thought Bertrand himself; for on the morrow, when the kingproffered him the Constable's sword before the whole court, he drewback abashed, and said, 'Dear lord and noble king, it fits me not togainsay your pleasure; but this is too much honour for a poor knightlike me, since there be many in your realm far more worthy of it.Moreover, in the hosts of France fight many of your kin, yea, and yourown brothers. How should I, a simple Breton knight, lay my commands onthem as on my soldiers? I pray you, my good lord, give so great acharge to some better man.'

  "Then the king's face lighted up so as 'twas a pleasure to see; and hesaid right heartily, 'Thou art as modest as valiant, Sir Bertrand, butin this matter I may not yield to thee. Better man could I find none,were I to search all Christendom; and as for these my brothers andkinsmen of whom thou speak'st, let any man of them dare to dispute thycommands, and I will so deal with him that he shall never offend insuch wise again. Take thine office, then, and defend this realm as Godhath sent thee to do.' Thus was Bertrand in some sort enforced to takethe office, whether he would or no; and small need have I to tell ye ifhe hath shown himself worthy of it."

  "I have ever heard," said Hugo, "that he is in high favour with theking; and it speaketh well for King Charles that he can so bestow hisfavour."

  "Nathless there have been rubs between them," said Olivier, with abroad grin. "I was myself in presence, when, but a few months later,Bertrand spake to him, before all his court, such words as a king'sears have seldom heard."

  "Ay, how chanced that?"

  "Marry, thus. When winter came, and the war was stayed a while, certainill counsellors persuaded King Charles (who was too wise to have donesuch folly himself) that it behoved him to hold fast what money he had,and give nothing out; so, when Bertrand sent to ask the pay due to hissoldiers, he gat no answer but this, that it was not convenient to sendit at that time.

  "Men say who saw it, that his face was like a flaming fire; and he rentthe letter in pieces, and stamped on them; and then he shouted for hishorse, and away he flew to Paris, and burst into the king's presence asif entering a stormed castle. When the king saw him come he changedcountenance somewhat, and went hastily to meet him, saying smoothly,'Welcome, my trusty Sir Bertrand; thou knowest how highly I prize thee.'

  "'Thou say'st it, lord king, but I see not the proof thereof,' quothBertrand, grimly. 'Where is the pay promised to my soldiers, who havefought thy battles all this year?'

  "Then the king cast down his eyes; for Bertrand's look was such as noman would have cared to meet--no, not I myself.

  "'Be not moved, I pray, good Bertrand; thou knowest my coffers arewell-nigh drained, and I cannot fill them again without laying heavytaxes on my people, which I am loth to do; but if thou wilt havepatience----'

  "'Patience?' cried Bertrand, in a voice like the thunder of heaven.'What patience, when the men who have fought by my side are hungry andcold, and look in vain to me for their due? If they cannot be paidwithout laying on of taxes, lay them not on thy poor people, but on thyfat abbots and sleek bishops, and these soft courtiers who flaunt insilk and velvet while the men who defend them go starving and in rags!Paid shall my men be from the rents of mine own lands and castles,since their king grudgeth them what he oweth; and, for my office, lethim take it who will, for I will bear it no longer!'

  "And he flung his sword of state at the king's feet, with a clang thatmade all men start."

  "Well done, well done!" cried Alured, clapping his hands in glee.

  "And what said the king?" asked Hugo, who had listened with equaldelight.

  "What he said I know not, for he went hastily forth of the chamber;this I know, that Bertrand's men were paid to the last franc ere themonth ended, and that he beareth the Constable's sword still."

  "And how fares he now?" asked Alured, eagerly.

  "Ill enow," said Clisson, shaking his head. "This past year he wastaken with a sore sickness, which left him exceeding weak; and thephysicians say that if he take not the better care, he must ere longgive up his office to another."

  The brothers exchanged a meaning glance.

  "Thou art right, Hugo," said Alured, answering his brother's look as ifhe had spoken; "we must see him once more."

  And the end of that winter found them crossing the sea to do so.