Philip Augustus; or, The Brothers in Arms

by G. P. R. James

"Noble lords," said he, "we have heard and weighed your opinions upon the conduct of the war; but various circumstances will induce us, in some degree, to modify both, or, rather, to take a medium between them. If we advance upon the enemy at Mortain, we expose ourself to immense disadvantage in the narrow passage by Damarets. This consideration opposes itself on the one hand; and on the other, it must never be said that Philip of France fled before his enemies, when supported by so many true and faithful peers as we see around us here;" and the monarch glanced his eagle eye rapidly from face to face, with a look which, without evincing doubt, gathered at once the expression of each as he spoke. "Our determination therefore is, early to-morrow morning to march, as if towards Lille; and the next day, wheeling through the open plains of that country, to take the enemy on their flank, before they are aware of our designs. By dawn, therefore, I pray ye, noble peers, have your men all arrayed beneath your banners, and we will march against our enemy; who, be assured, whatever fair promises he holds out, is not alone the enemy of Philip, but of every true Frenchman. You are fighting for your hearths and for your homes; and where is the man, that will not strike boldly in such a quarrel? For to-night, lords, adieu! To-morrow we will meet you with the first ray of the sun."

With these words the council broke up, and the barons took their leave and withdrew; some well contented with the king's plan, some murmuring that their opinion had not been conceded to, and some perhaps disappointed with a scheme that threatened failure to the very confederacy against which they appeared in arms.

"'Tis strange, Guerin! 'tis strange!" cried the king, as soon as his peers were gone, "We have traitors amongst us, I fear!--Yet I will not believe that De Coucy is false. His absence is unaccountable; but, depend on it, there is some good cause;--and yet, that groom's tale against him! 'Tis strange! I doubt some of the faces, too, that I have seen but now. But I will try them, Guerin--I will try them; and if they be traitors, they shall damn themselves to hell!"

As the king had commanded, with the first ray of the sun the host was under arms; and stretching out in a long line under the walls of Tournay, it offered a gay and splendid sight, with the horizontal beams of the early morning shining bright on a thousand banners, and flashing back from ten thousand lances.

The marshals had scarcely arrayed it five minutes, when the king, followed by his glittering train, issued forth from the castle, mounted on a superb black charger, and armed cap-à-pié. He rode slowly from one end of the line to the other, bowing his plumed helmet in answer to the shouts and acclamations of the troops, and then returned to the very centre of the host. Circling round the crest of his casque were seen the golden fleurs de lis of the crown of France; and it was remarked, that behind him two of his attendants carried an immense golden wine-cup called a hanap, and a sharp naked sword.

In the centre of the line the king paused, and raised the volant piece of his helmet, when his face might be seen by every one, calm, proud, and dignified. At a sign from the monarch, two priests approached, carrying a large silver cruise and a small loaf of bread, which Philip received from their hands; and, cutting the bread into pieces with the edge of the sword carried by his attendant, he placed the pieces in the chalice, and then poured it full of wine.

"Barons of France!" cried he, in a loud voice, which made itself heard to an immense distance,--"Barons of France! Some foul liar last night sent me word, that there were traitors in my council and rebels in my host. Here I stand before you all, bearing on my casque the crown of France; and if amongst you there be one man that judges me unworthy to wear that crown, instantly let him separate from my people and depart to my enemies. He shall go free and unscathed, with his arms and followers, on the honour of a king! But those noble barons who are willing to fight and to die with their sovereign, in defence of their wives, their children, their homes, and their country--let them come forward; and in union with their king, eat this consecrated bread, and taste this sacred wine; and cursed be he who shall hereafter forget this sign of unity and fellowship!"

A loud shout from the whole host was the first reply; and then each baron, without an exception, hurried forward before the ranks, and claimed to pledge himself as Philip had proposed.

In the midst of the ceremony, however, a tall strong man in black armour pushed his way through the rest, exclaiming--"Give me the cup! give me the cup!"

When it was placed in his hands, he raised it first to his head, without lifting the visor of his helmet; but, finding his mistake, he unclasped the volant hurriedly, and throwing it back, discovered the wild countenance of Count Thibalt d'Auvergne. He then raised again the cup, and with a quick, but not ungraceful movement, bowed low to Philip, and drank some of the wine.