Philip Augustus; or, The Brothers in Arms

by G. P. R. James

Many a vague doubt and many a fear attached itself to the duty they were called upon to perform; for, even in that day, it was no small responsibility to set a world in arms, and renew that deluge of bloodshed that had so lately ceased. From time to time, under the influence of these feelings, the several peers gazed in the countenances of their fellows, to see if they were shaken by the same hesitations as themselves. But it is ever the bold that lead; and here and there, scattered through the assembly, might be seen a face that turned to no one for advice or support; but, with the eyes fixed on the ground, the brow bent, and the lips closed, seemed to offer a picture of stern determined resolution. It was these men who decided the deliberations of the day. For their opinions all waited, and all voices followed their lead.

At length the doors of the hall were again thrown open; and Mountjoy king-at-arms, presented himself, informing the court that he had summoned John of Anjou, Duke of Normandy, in the courts, on the bridges, and the highways; and that he did not appear.

There was now a deep pause, and Philip turned his eyes to the Duke of Burgundy. He was a man of a dull, saturnine aspect, stout even to corpulency, with shaggy eyebrows overhanging his dark eyes, but with a high, finely formed nose, and small, well-shaped mouth, so that his countenance was stern without being morose, and striking without being handsome.

The great baron rose from his seat, while there was a breathless silence all around; and laying his hand upon his heart, he said in a clear stern tone, "I pronounce John of Anjou guilty of murder and disloyalty; I hold him a cruel and perverse traitor; and I declare that for these crimes, his feofs of Normandy, Anjou, Poitou, Maine, and Guyenne, are justly forfeited to his sovereign lord, and he himself worthy of death, upon my honour!"

A murmur of approbation succeeded, for a great proportion of the barons had already determined upon a similar judgment; and those who had remained undecided, were glad of some one with whose opinion to establish their own. One after another now rose; and, notwithstanding all the hesitation which many had felt the moment before, there was not one dissenting voice from the condemnation pronounced by the Duke of Burgundy. Had there been any strong mind to oppose, half the peers would have followed him like a flock of sheep, but there was none; and they now all eagerly, and almost turbulently, pronounced judgment against John of Anjou, sentencing him unanimously to forfeiture of all his feofs, and every pain inflicted on high felony.

The silence was succeeded by a babble of tongues perfectly extraordinary; but the moment after, the voice of the king was heard above the rest, and all was again hushed.

What would in the present day smack of stage effect, was in perfect harmony with the manners, habits, and feelings of those times, when a spirit unknown to us--a moving principle whose force is now exhausted, or only felt even feebly in the breasts of a few--the spirit of chivalry, impelled men to every thing that was singular and striking.

Philip rose majestically from his throne, drew his sword from the scabbard, and, advancing to the table, laid the weapon upon it naked. Then, gazing round the peers, he exclaimed, "To arms! to arms! nobles of France, your judgment is pronounced! 'tis time to enforce it with the sword!--to arms! to arms I lose no moments in vain words. Call together your vassals. Philip of France marches to execute your sentence against John of Anjou; and he calls on his barons to support their award! The day of meeting is the tenth from this, the place of monstre beneath the walls of château Galliard! let cowards leave me, and brave men follow me! and I will punish the traitor before a year be out."

So saying, he waved his hand to his peers; and, followed by the heralds and men-at-arms, left the hall of assembly.

The younger and less clear-sighted of the peers eagerly applauded Philip's brief appeal! but there was, in fact, a tone of triumph in it, which struck the more deep-thinking barons, and perhaps made them fear that they had that day consecrated a power, which might sooner or later be used against themselves. Doubt kept them silent, however; and they separated at once, to prepare for the campaign before them.