Cressy and Poictiers: The Story of the Black Prince's Page

by John G. Edgar

But no notice was taken of De Chargny's lawless adventure. It was John himself who took the step that roused Edward's wrath, and ultimately brought matters to a crisis. No sooner, indeed, did he feel the crown of St. Louis on his head than he was guilty of an act of despotic violence which, he ought to have seen, would involve a quarrel with an enemy whose active hostility, he might have been aware, it was madness under the circumstances to defy.

I have mentioned that when, in 1346, King Edward landed at La Hogue, and when the English, marching through Normandy, seized the town of Caen, one of the prisoners taken by them was the Count of Eu, Constable of France. Carried to England, the constable was lodged in the Tower of London. But his captivity was not without its consolation. Being a gallant knight and accomplished gentleman, he was always well received at the English court, and treated with much courtesy by the king and queen. Naturally, however, the count could not forget that he was a prisoner; and, expressing much anxiety to return home, he was released on his parole, and allowed to repair to France to raise the money necessary to pay his ransom.

Accordingly, the constable, little dreaming of the consequences, embarked for France, and, reaching the coast, made his way to Paris, and presented himself to the new king, whose father he had faithfully served. Whether or not he was really guilty of any disloyalty towards the House of Valois is difficult to decide. It was rumoured, however, that he confessed something of the kind to Walter de Brienne, Duke of Athens; and one Tuesday, when in the Hôtel de Nesle, he was suddenly arrested by the Provost of Paris, and imprisoned.

The constable was not long kept in suspense. Indeed, John of Calais dealt with the Count of Eu almost as summarily as Geoffrey de Chargny had dealt with Aymery de Pavie. On Thursday, about the hour of matins, he was conducted to the courtyard of the Hôtel de Nesle, and there, in presence of several earls and knights, beheaded as a traitor.

If John exhibited courage in the execution of the constable, he showed little of that prudence which he might have learned from reflecting on the fate of his father. The constable, as he well knew, was the King of England's prisoner, released on parole; and Edward would have belied his reputation if he had allowed his death to pass without demanding satisfaction. It soon appeared that the Plantagenet was in no humour to be set at defiance. When the news reached England, he made no secret of his intention to treat John as he had treated Philip, John's father.

"Ho, ho!" exclaimed the king, as his anger rose and his eye flashed, "my adversary's son has put the Count of Eu to death. By good St. George! when this truce expires, I will show him how I can avenge the execution of my prisoners on parole."

[CHAPTER XLV]
RENEWAL OF THE WAR

It was not only the King of England whose enmity John of Valois, after taking possession of the throne of France, had provoked by indulging his vindictive temper. Hardly had he assumed the symbols of royalty, when, by neglecting to pay his daughter's dowry, he involved himself in a bitter quarrel with his son-in-law, whose friendship it was his interest to cultivate even at some sacrifice of pride.

Now this son-in-law happened to be no less remarkable a personage than the King of Navarre, who was also Count of Evreux, and who was known as Charles the Bad; and he at once proved himself a potent and unscrupulous foe. In fact, when his personal enemy, Charles de la Cerda, was appointed Constable of France, the King of Navarre showed his contempt for the authority of the King of France by seizing the constable at Aigle, and putting him to death; and, when cited before a Bed of Justice to answer for the crime, he gathered around him the Norman nobles, who were his friends and partisans, and set the royal summons at defiance. The quarrel, however, was accommodated, and a reconciliation took place. But between two such men there could not be any lasting amity. The King of Navarre was ever thwarting his father-in-law's government, and John accused his son-in-law of doing many things contrary to the honour of the crown and the welfare of the realm. At length John took his kinsman at advantage, and a step which brought matters to a crisis.

And the occasion was not ill-chosen for his purpose. Charles, the dauphin, having been invested with the duchy of Normandy, repaired to Rouen to take possession; and, in the great hall of the castle, he gave a feast to the King of Navarre, to John, Count of Harcourt, Navarre's favourite, and to other Norman nobles who were Navarre's friends. Suddenly, in the midst of the feast, John, who had ridden from Chartres with his marshal and his armed guards, entered the banqueting hall, and caused the whole party, with the exception of the dauphin, to be arrested and shut up in various chambers. Having then sat down at table, and leisurely dined, he ordered the Count of Harcourt and four other nobles to be carted to a field behind the castle, and executed before his eyes. Next day, after placing their heads on a gibbet in Rouen, he set out for Paris, carrying with him the King of Navarre, whom he imprisoned in the Louvre.