Lourdes, as well as the whole province of Bigorre (which lay between Béarn and Foix), fell into the hands of the English by the treaty of Bretagne, and constituted a part of the Duchy of Aquitaine, which Edward III. conferred on his son, the Black Prince, who left England to take possession of his domains in 1363. He made Bordeaux his capital, and there, in the church of S. André, Jehan Caubot, consul of Lourdes, and the representatives of Tarbes and other towns, presented themselves at high noon before the most noble and puissant Lord Edward, Prince of Wales and Duke of Aquitaine, and, in the presence of many lords, knights, and citizens, swore fealty to the English prince, beseeching him to confirm the rights and franchises which they had hitherto enjoyed, which he solemnly promised.
The Count of Armagnac (John I.) gave so captivating a description of the beauty of Bigorre that the Black Prince was induced to visit his mountain province. He remained for some time at Tarbes, and while there explored the neighboring valleys, strengthened old fortresses and built several new ones. He was particularly struck with the castle of Lourdes, and the advantage of holding such a position. “It is the key of many countries,” said he, “by which I can find my way into Aragon, Catalonia, and Barcelona.” He strengthened its fortifications, and entrusted the command to Pierre Arnaud of Béarn, a cousin of Gaston Phœbus of Foix, saying: “Master Arnaud, I constitute and appoint you captain of Lourdes, and warden of Bigorre. See that you hold them, and render a good account of your trust to me and my father.”
Arnaud swore fealty to the Prince, who soon after broke up his court at Tarbes and returned to Bordeaux. He could not have left a better commander at Lourdes. Arnaud was one of those men who would rather face death a thousand times than be untrue to their word. He held the castle long after all the rest of Bigorre had been wrested from the English, and the exploits of the brave knights that took refuge here made it the terror of the surrounding country. Froissart’s account of their adventures is more like that of highwaymen than of chivalrous knights. They were continually coming down from their eyry at the head of a band, to scour the country and plunder all they could lay their hands upon. Sometimes they extended their ravages to Toulouse, Alby, and Carcassone, taking castles, robbing merchants and attacking knights, and then rushing back to Lourdes with their booty—cattle, provisions, prisoners they could ransom, etc. They only respected the rights of Gaston Phœbus, their captain’s kinsman.
It is related of Mongat that on one occasion he put on the habit of a monk, and with three of his men similarly attired, he took his way with devout air and mien to Montpellier, where he alighted at the Angel and gave out he was a lord abbot from Upper Gascony on his way to Paris on business. Here he made the acquaintance of the Sire Berenger, who was likewise going to Paris on some affair of importance, and was delighted to be thrown into such holy company. The pretended abbot led him by devious ways to Lourdes, where he ransomed him for a large sum.
In one of his adventures, Mongat came to his end. He had been to Toulouse with two other knights and one hundred and twenty lances, and on their way back with cattle, hogs, sheep, and prisoners, they were attacked by two hundred knights, with the brave Ernauton Bissette at their head, in a forest belonging to the Sire de Barbazan. The fury with which they fought was only equalled by their knightly courtesy. When exhausted, they took off their helmets, refreshed themselves at a stream, and then resumed the contest. Mongat and Ernauton fought hand to hand the whole day, and at length, utterly exhausted, they both fell dead on the field. Hostilities then ceased. Each party bore away its dead, and a cross was raised on the spot where they fell.
Of course the whole country around was eager to dislodge the English from their fortress. The Duke of Anjou, with the celebrated Du Guesclin, attacked it at the head of fifteen thousand of the best soldiers of France. All the other castles of Bigorre had been taken. Tarbes had been readily given up by the captain who had sworn to defend it. Mauvezin had gallantly held out for a time, and then honorably surrendered. Lourdes alone bade defiance to the enemy. The town, built on a slope at the east of the castle, resisted the duke’s army a fortnight. The inhabitants finally took refuge in the castle, and the French took possession of the empty houses, with great rejoicing. For six weeks they laid siege to the castle, but in vain. The duke now sought to obtain it by bribing Arnaud with vast sums of money, but the incorruptible captain replied:
“The fortress is not mine. It is the property of the King of England, and I cannot sell, alienate, or give it up, without proving myself a traitor, which I will not. I will remain loyal to my liege lord on whose hand I swore by my faith, when he appointed me governor of this castle, to defend it against all men, and to yield it to no one whom he had not authorized to demand it, and Pierre Arnaud will keep to his trust till he dies.”
Discouraged and mortified, the duke raised the siege and set fire to the four quarters of the town, which was wholly consumed, with all the titles of the ancient fors and rights. He now determined to obtain the castle by some other means, and despatched a messenger to Gaston Phœbus to convince him it was for his interest to use his influence in driving the English from Lourdes. The count promised to do so and invited Arnaud to Orthez. Somewhat suspicious of his intentions, Arnaud, before leaving Lourdes, appointed his brother John commander of the fortress, making him swear by his faith and honor as a knight to guard it as faithfully as he had done himself, and never to yield it to any one but him who had entrusted it to their care.
John solemnly swore as he was desired, and his brother proceeded to Orthez, where he was graciously received by the Count of Foix. It was not till the third day he was summoned to give up the castle. Arnaud at once comprehended the danger of his situation, but undauntedly replied: “My lord, I doubtless owe you duty and regard, for I am a poor knight of your land and race, but the castle of Lourdes I cannot surrender. You have sent for me and can do with me whatever you please, but what I hold from the King of England, I will surrender to no one but him.”
“Ha, traitor!” cried the count in a rage, drawing his dagger, “do you tell me you will not do it? By my head, you shall pay for such a speech”; and he stabbed him to the heart.