Two Chronicles of Poitiers
It was the Duke of Wellington who remarked that one might as well try to write the story of a battle as write the history of a formal ball; every dancer will have a different recollection of the event, and rarely will two such recollections match. The difficulty of discovering what happened in a medieval battle is compounded by the dearth of memoirs. No participant of the battle of Poitiers left a description, though there are letters from such men, but the letters tend to announce the result of the battle rather than its course. The most interesting of those letters are reprinted in Richard Barber’s book Life and Campaigns of the Black Prince (Boydell Press, 1979), and that book also has long excerpts from the era’s chroniclers. It was those chroniclers who tried to record the history of their own times, but sadly none was present at the battle of Poitiers and so their descriptions are coloured by their sources (and possibly by their imaginations too). Jean Froissart, a Frenchman, is the most famous of such chroniclers. He wrote an enormous amount and is an important source for the history of western Europe between 1320 and 1400, but the modern consensus is that he made frequent mistakes! He wrote for an aristocratic audience and so accentuates chivalry, and his description of Poitiers was written long after the event. It might not be accurate, but it does illustrate how the battle was perceived by literate Europeans in the fourteenth century. So here, in a shortened and edited version, is his account of the battle of Poitiers: 383
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When the prince saw that he should have battle he said to his men: ‘Now, sirs, though we be but a small company (compared) to the puissance of our enemies, let us not be downhearted; for the victory lies not in the multitude of people, but as God will send it. If fortune says that the (day) be ours, we shall be the most honoured people of all the world; and if we die in our right quarrel, I have the king my father and brethren, and also ye have good friends and kinsmen; these shall revenge us. Therefore, sirs, for God’s sake I require you do your duty this day; for if God be pleased and Saint George, this day you shall see me a good knight.’ Then the battle began and the battles of the marshals of France approached, and they sent forth those who were appointed to break the array of the archers. They entered on horseback into the gaps where the great hedges were full of archers on both sides. As soon as the men at arms entered, the archers began to shoot on both sides and did kill and wound horses and knights, so that the horses would not go forward when they felt the sharp arrows, but drew back and many of them fell on their masters, so that for press they could not rise again; which meant that the marshals’ battle could never come at the prince. The battle of the marshals fell into disorder because of the archers with the aid of the men at arms, who came among them and killed them. So within a short space the marshals’ battles were discomfited, for they fell one upon another and could not go forward; and the Frenchmen that were behind recoiled back and came on the battle of the duke of Normandy, which was large and on foot. The archers gave their army great advantage that day because they shot so fast that the Frenchmen did not know on what side to take guard, and little by little the Englishmen won ground on them. And when the men at arms of England saw that the marshals’ battle was discomfited and that the duke’s battle began to fall into disorder, they leapt then on their horses, which they had ready, and they assembled and cried, ‘Saint 384
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George! Guyenne!’ The prince said, ‘Let us go forth; ye shall not see me this turn back today,’ and said, ‘Advance the banner, in the name of God and of Saint George.’ There was then a fierce and dangerous battle, with many a man slain and cast to the earth. As the Frenchmen fought they cried, ‘Mountjoy! Saint Denis!’ and the Englishmen, ‘Saint George! Guyenne!’ Soon the prince with his company met with the battle of Almains, but in a short while they were put to flight: the archers killed many men. When the duke of Normandy’s battle saw the prince approach, they thought to save themselves, and so the duke and the king’s children, the earl of Poitiers and the earl of Touraine, who were right young, left the field, and with them more than eight hundred spears, that struck no stroke that day. Then they met also the duke of Orleans and a great company with him, who had also departed from the field. Then the king’s battle came on the English: there was a great fight and many a huge blow given and received. The king and his youngest son met with the battle of the English marshals, the earl of Warwick and the earl of Suffolk, and with them the captal of Buch, and also in the king’s battle there was the earl Douglas of Scotland, who fought valiantly for a time, but when he saw the discomfiture, he left and saved himself; for in no wise he would be taken of the Englishmen. On the French party king John was that day a valiant knight: if a quarter of his men had done their duty as well as he did, the day had likely been his. However those that were with the king were all killed or captured except a few that saved themselves. Truly this battle, which was near to Poitiers in the fields of Beauvoir and Maupertuis, was great and perilous, and many deeds of arms were done which are unknown. The fighters on both sides endured much suffering: king John had an axe in his hands wherewith he defended himself. The pursuit lasted to the gates of Poitiers: there were many slain and beaten down, horse and man, for the citizens of Poitiers 385
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closed their gates and so in the street before the gate was horrible murder, men hurt and beaten down. Then there was a great crowd to take the king, and those who recognised him cried, ‘Sir, yield, or else you are dead.’ There was a knight called sir Denis Morbeke, who had served the Englishmen for five years because in his youth he had forfeited the realm of France because a murder that he did at Saint-Omer’s. It happened that he was next to the king when they were about to capture him: he stepped forward and by strength of his body and arms he came to the French king and said in good French, ‘Sir, yield you.’ The king beheld the knight and said: ‘To whom shall I yield me? Where is my cousin the prince of Wales? If I might see him, I would speak with him.’ Denis answered and said: ‘Sir, he is not here; but yield you to me and I shall bring you to him. ‘Who be you?’ quoth the king. ‘Sir,’ quoth he, ‘I am Denis of Morbeke, a knight of Artois; but I serve the king of England because I am banished the realm of France and I have forfeited all that I had there.’ Then the king gave him his right gauntlet, and said, ‘I yield me to you.’ But the French king was on foot and in great danger because Englishmen and Gascons had taken him from sir Denis Morbeke, and those who were strongest said, ‘I have taken him.’ ‘No,’ cried another, ‘I have taken him’: so they struggled which should have him. Then the French king, to avoid that peril, said: ‘Sirs, strive not: lead me courteously, and my son, to my cousin the prince, for I am so great a lord to make you all rich.’ The king’s words somewhat appeased them, but still they brawled for the capture of the king. Then the two lords entered into the crowd and caused every man to draw back, and commanded them in the prince’s name on pain of their life to make no more noise nor to approach the king unless they were commanded. Then every man gave room to the lords, and they alighted and did their reverence to the king, and so brought him and his son in peace to the prince of Wales. 386
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The same night of the battle the prince made a supper in his lodging to the French king and to the most part of the great lords that were prisoners, and always the prince served the king as humbly as he could, and would not sit at the king’s table, but he said he was not sufficient to sit at the table with so great a prince as the king. Then he said to the king: ‘Sir, for God’s sake make none evil nor heavy cheer, though God this day did not consent to follow your will; for, sir, surely the king my father shall bear you as much honour and friendship as he may. And, sir, I think you ought to rejoice, though the day be not as you would have it, but this day you have won high renown of prowess and have surpassed in bravery all others of your party.’ Sir John Chandos was a close friend of the Black Prince. Sir John’s herald, now known simply as Chandos Herald, wrote a life of the prince which includes a description of Poitiers. Almost certainly Sir John was his source, or perhaps another man who was close to the prince during the battle. The account is brief, but useful. It might be from the English perspective, but it includes conversations from the French side, which were probably inventions or perhaps were gleaned from the many prisoners taken on the field: The Prince broke up camp because on that day he did not think to have battle, I assure you, but wanted, most certainly, to avoid the battle. But on the other side the French cried out loudly to the King that the English were fleeing and that they would speedily lose them. Said the Marshal d’Audrehem: ‘Soon we shall have lost the English if we don’t attack them.’ Said the Marshal de Clermont: ‘Fair brother, you are in too much haste. Do not be so eager, for we shall surely come there in time, for the English do not flee.’ Said d’Audrehem: ‘Your delay will make us lose them at this time.’ Then said Clermont: ‘By Saint Denis, Marshal, you are very bold.’ And then he said to him angrily: ‘Indeed you will not be so bold as to acquit yourself to-day in such wise that you come far 387
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enough forward for the point of your lance to reach the rump of my horse.’ Thus inflamed with wrath they set out towards the English. Then began the shouting, and noise and clamour is raised, and the armies began to draw near. Then on both sides they began to shoot and to cast; There was many a creature who that day was brought to his end. They fought staunchly. The archers that were on the two sides over towards the armoured horses shot rapidly, thicker than rain falls. The French book says that the Earl of Salisbury, he and his companions, who were fiercer than lions, discomfited the Marshals and all the armoured horses, before the vanguard could be turned and brought across again, for it was over the river; but by the will of God and Saint Peter they joined all together and came, methinks, like people of noble bearing, right up a mountain until they brought their ranks up to the Dauphin’s division, which was at the passage of a hedge, and there, with steadfast will, they met together, plying the business of arms in such knightly fashion that it was great marvel to behold. There they gained the passage of the hedge by force by their assault, whereat many a Frenchman is dismayed at heart, and they began to turn their backs and mount their horses. In many a place men cried with loud voice ‘Guyenne! St. George!’ What would you that I should tell you? The division of Normandy was discomfited that morning, and the Dauphin departed thence. There was many a man taken and slain, and the noble Prince fought right bravely. Then the King of France approached, bringing up a great power, for to him went every man who wanted to acquit himself well. When the Prince saw him come he looked up to Heaven, cried mercy of Jesus Christ, and spoke thus: ‘Mighty Father, right so as I believe that Thou art King of Kings and didst willingly endure the death on the cross for all of us, to redeem us out of hell, Father, who art true God, true man, be pleased, by Thy most holy name, to guard me and my people from harm, even as Thou knowest, true God 388
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of heaven, that I have good right.’ Then the Prince straightway, when he had made his prayer, said: ‘Forward, forward, banner! Let each one take heed to his honour.’ There was a right sore battle, there you might see many men killed. This struggle lasted a long time until none so bold but was abashed at heart; but the Prince cried out aloud many times; ‘Forward, sirs, for God! Let us win this field if we set store by life and honour’. So much did the valiant Prince, that the victory turned to him, and his enemies fled. King John fought valiantly, and with him many good knights. But his strength helped him little, for the Prince made such onslaught that he was taken by force, and Philip also, his son, my Lord Jacques de Bourbon, and a good number of others, the Count of Eu, the courteous Count Charles of Artois, and Charles the good Count of Dammartin, and the good Count of Joigny; he of Tancarville also, the Count of Sarrebruck and Ventadour, the good Count of Sancerre. All these were taken that day, and many whose names I cannot give; but, by what I heard, there were fully sixty taken, counts and bold bannerets, and more than a thousand others, whose titles I cannot give. And, by what I heard, there died there full three thousand dead. May God receive their souls! Then did one see the English joyful, and they shouted in many a place: ‘Guyenne! St. George!’ There might you see the French scattered! For plunder you might see many an archer, many a knight, many a squire, running in every direction, to take prisoners on all sides. Thus were the French taken and slain that day. Sirs, that time was one thousand three hundred and fifty and six years after the birth of Christ, and also, as I think, it was nineteen days on in September, the month before October, that this great battle happened so terribly. Pardon me if I relate it briefly, because I would narrate to you of this noble Prince, so valiant and bold, gallant in words and deeds. Then was King John brought before him; the Prince gave him hearty greeting, and gave thanks to Almighty God, and to do more honour to the King would help him to disarm. Then 389
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said the Prince: ‘Sweet sir, it is God’s doing and not ours: and we are bound to give thanks to Him therefore, and beseech that He would grant us His glory and pardon us the victory.’ Thus did they both speak kindly together. The English made merry. The Prince lodged that night in a little pavilion among the dead on the plain, and his men all around him. That night he slept but little. In the morning he broke camp, set out towards Bordeaux, and took with (him) their prisoner. At Bordeaux was such joy made that it was marvellous to behold. There the Prince stayed the whole winter. Then he dispatched his messenger to the noble King, his father, and to the Queen his mother, with the tidings how in what wise God had wrought for him, and asked that they should send him vessels wherein he might bring the King of France to England to do more honour to the land.
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