would directly lead him forward; and, in order that they might not lose him in the crowd, they fastened all the reins of their horses together, and put the king at their head, that he might gratify his wish, and advanced toward the enemy. The Lord Charles of Bohemia, who already signed his name as King of Germany, and bore the arms, had come in good order to the engagement; but, when he perceived that it was likely to turn out against the French, he departed, and I do not well know what road he took. The king his father rode in among the enemy, and made good use of his sword; for he and his companions fought most gallantly. They advanced so far that they were all slain; and on the morrow they were found on the ground, with their horses all tied together.
The Earl of Alençon advanced in regular order upon the English, to fight with them, as did the Earl of Flanders in another part. These two lords with their detachments, coasting, as it were, the archers, came to the prince’s battalion, where they fought valiantly for a length of time. The King of France was eager to march to the place where he saw their banners displayed; but there was a hedge of archers before him. He had that day made a present of a handsome black horse to Sir John of Hainault, who had mounted on it a knight of his called Sir John de Fusselles, that bore his banner; which horse ran off with him, and forced his way through the English army, and, when about to return, stumbled and fell into a ditch, and severely wounded him. He would have been dead if his page had not followed him round the battalions, and found him unable to rise: he had not, however, any other hinderance than from his horse, for the English did not quit the ranks that day to make prisoners. The page alighted, and raised him up; but he did not return the way he came, as he would have found it difficult from the crowd. This battle, which was fought on the Saturday between La Broyes and Crecy, was very murderous and cruel, and many gallant deeds of arms were performed that were never known. Toward evening many knights and squires of the French had lost their masters: they wandered up and down the plain, attacking the English in small parties. They were soon destroyed; for the English had determined that day to give no quarter, or hear of ransom from any one.
Early in the day some French, Germans, and Savoyards had broken through the archers of the prince’s battalion, and had engaged with the men at arms; upon which the second battalion came to his aid, and it was time, for otherwise he would have been hard pressed. The first division, seeing the danger they were in, sent a knight in great haste to the King of England, who was posted upon an eminence near a windmill. On the knight’s arrival he said, “Sir, the Earl of Warwick, the Lord Reginald Cobham, and the others who are about your son, are vigorously attacked by the French; and they entreat that you would come to their assistance with your battalion, for, if their numbers should increase, they fear he will have too much to do.” The king replied, “Is my son dead, unhorsed, or so badly wounded that he cannot support himself?”—“Nothing of the sort, thank God,” rejoined the knight; “but he is in so hot an engagement that he has great need of your help.” The king answered, “Now, Sir Thomas, return to those that sent you, and tell them from me not to send again for me this day, or expect that I shall come, let what will happen, as long as my son has life: and say that I command them to let the boy win his spurs; for I am determined, if it please God, that all the glory and honor of this day shall be given to him and to those into whose care I have intrusted him.” The knight returned to his lords, and related the king’s answer, which mightily encouraged them, and made them repent they had ever sent such a message.
It is a certain fact, that Sir Godfrey de Harcourt, who was in the prince’s battalion, having been told by some of the English that they had seen the banner of his brother engaged in the battle against him, was exceedingly anxious to save him; but he was too late, for he was left dead on the field, and so was the Earl of Aumarle, his nephew. On the other hand, the Earls of Alençon and of Flanders were fighting lustily under their banners, and with their own people; but they could not resist the force of the English, and were there slain, as well as many other knights and squires that were attending on or accompanying them. The Earl of Blois, nephew to the King of France, and the Duke of Lorraine, his brother-in-law, with their troops, made a gallant defence; but they were surrounded by a troop of English and Welsh, and slain in spite of their prowess. The Earl of St. Pol and the Earl of Auxerre were also killed, as well as many others. Late after vespers, the King of France had not more about him than sixty men, every one included. Sir John of Hainault, who was of the number, had once remounted the king, for his horse had been killed under him by an arrow: he said to the king, “Sir, retreat while you have an opportunity, and do not expose yourself so simply: if you have lost this battle, another time you will be the conqueror.” After he had said this, he took the bridle of the king’s horse, and led him off by force, for he had before entreated of him to retire. The king rode on until he came to the castle of La Broyes, where he found the gates shut, for it was very dark. The king ordered the governor of it to be summoned: he came upon the battlements, and asked who it was that called at such an hour. The king answered, “Open, open, governor: it is the fortune of France.” The governor, hearing the king’s voice, immediately descended, opened the gate, and let down the bridge. The king and his company entered the castle; but he had only with him five barons,—Sir John of Hainault, the Lord Charles of Montmorency, the Lord of Beaujeu, the Lord of Aubigny, and the Lord of Montfort. The king would not bury himself in such a place as that, but, having taken some refreshments, set out again with his attendants about midnight, and rode on under the direction of guides who were well acquainted with the country, until about daybreak he came to Amiens, where he halted. This Saturday the English never quitted their ranks in pursuit of any one, but remained on the field, guarding their position, and defending themselves against all who attacked them. The battle was ended at the hour of vespers.
[There can be no better opportunity than this celebrated chapter affords to show the young reader how Froissart’s Chronicles looked, both in their first English guise, and in the original old French. It is, therefore, repeated here in both versions.
The first is especially valuable as an example of how our language looked and sounded during the first quarter of the sixteenth century. The translator, John Bourchier, Lord Berners, was a notable soldier and statesman, as well as a scholar. He came of a good family: his grandfather was son of Anne, granddaughter of King Edward the Third. He was born about 1467; in due time went to college, fought in the French wars, travelled on the Continent, became a favorite of King Henry the Eighth, was employed in honorable embassies, became chancellor of the exchequer, and finally passed his quiet age as governor of Calais. It was at the request of King Henry the Eighth that he translated Froissart into English, though he evidently loved our fine old writer on his own account, and speaks thus in his quaint preface: “...Whan I advertysed and remembred the manyfolde comodyties of hystorie, howe benefyciall it is to mortall folke, and eke howe laudable and merytoryous a deed it is to write hystories, fixed my mynde to do some thyng therein; and ever whan this ymaginacyon came to me, I volved, tourned, and redde many volumes and bokes, conteyning famouse histories; and amonge all other, I redde diligently the four volumes or bokes of sir Johan Froyssart of the countrey of Heynaulte, written in the Frenche tonge, whiche I iudged comodyous, necessarie, and profytable to be hadde in Englysshe, sithe they treat of the famous actes done in our parties; ... and specially they redounde to the honoure of Englysshemen.”
Accordingly, under the “gracyous suppertacyon” of the king, he made his translation, the first volume of which was printed by Pyason in the year 1523, announcing itself thus: “Here begynnith the firste volum of Syr John Froissart: of the Cronycles of Englande, Fraunce, Spayne, Portyugale, Scotlande, Bretaine, Flaunders: and other places adjoynynge. Translated oute of Frenche into oure maternall Englysshe tongue, by John Bouchier, knyghte, lorde Berners: At the commandement of oure moste hyghe redouted Soveraygne lorde kynge Henrye the VIII, kynge of Englaunde, Fraunce, and Irelande, defendour of the faith: and of the church of Englande and also of Irelande in earth the supreme heade.”
I earnestly hope that this following chapter of what may perhaps fairly be called the first classic in modern English prose may tempt some young reader hereafter to study Berners more carefully, and to re-infuse, under his influence, the old fire and color and brightness into the pale and often pitiful sentences of our current style.—S. L.]
Of the batayle of Cressy bytwene the kyng of England and the frenche kyng.