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THE HERO OF CHIVALRY.
About the year 1320 Bertrand du Guesclin was born in the castle of La Motte Bron, which stood in a picturesque part of Bretagne, about six leagues from the city of Rennes. His father, Reynauld du Guesclin, was a brave and loyal knight, who served G.o.d truly, and was very kind to the poor, giving them a great part of his substance, although he was not at all rich himself.
Bertrand was the eldest of ten children. Unhappily his excessive ugliness made him an object of dislike to his mother, and she was not nearly so kind to him as she was to her other children. Besides this, he was self-willed and savage, and his temper would break out into fits of violence which terrified his little brothers and sisters, and exposed him to the contempt of the whole household. This rough and repelling exterior, however, only hid for a time a generous nature and a feeling heart, and many were the tears poor Bertrand shed in solitude, for he was too proud to let them be seen, when he rebelled against the harsh treatment he received on account of his ill-behaviour.
One day the lady of La Motte was seated at table in the dining-hall of the castle with her younger sons, Guillaume and Olivier, whilst Bertrand was eating his dinner in a corner apart. It was very sad to know that the eldest son of the family behaved so rudely that his parents would not allow him to take his place at the table. But this day it happened that some chance word of ridicule reached him in his corner, and he arose in fury, and, rushing towards the table, commanded his brothers to make room for him at the upper end, where his place as the eldest child should have been by right. His brothers, surprised at the tone of his voice, obeyed, and his mother suffered him to sit in the highest place; but he had not been there long before his awkward and uncouth manners obliged her to order him to return to his corner. Bertrand arose, and in his rage clenched his hand, and hit the oaken table so hard a blow that it overturned, and emptied the contents of the dishes into the laps of the persons seated around it. This pa.s.sionate act of course called down a fresh torrent of reproaches on his head. In the midst of all the disorder a lady, who was a frequent visitor at the castle, entered the hall. She asked Bertrand's mother why she was so angry. The lady of La Motte answered her by pointing to her little son, who was now sobbing bitterly in his corner. The lady went up to him, and although he was sullen at first, she soon persuaded him to tell her his sorrows. She invited him to return to the table, and Bertrand, to the astonishment of all who were present, took the dish of peac.o.c.k which the steward was just bringing into the hall, and a goblet of wine, and served her with them himself, awkwardly it must be confessed, but in a spirit of grat.i.tude for the few kind words she had spoken.
The lady who had thus befriended him was the daughter of a Jewish physician, but with her father had been converted to Christianity. She was reputed to be very clever, and was skilled in an art which was much practised in those days, namely, that of foretelling future events by observing the lines in people's hands, very much in the same manner as gipsies pretend to tell fortunes, even in our own time. After dinner she called Bertrand to her, and attentively examined his face and his hand, and presently told his mother that she ought to be proud of having such a son, instead of despising him, because she was convinced that when he grew up to be a man he would do great things for the glory of his country. From this day his mother looked more kindly upon him; she had him dressed for the first time in a manner suitable to his rank, and commanded the servants to treat him with the respect due to the eldest son of their master.
Bertrand's fiery temper, however, and his love of fighting, were a continual source of trouble and anxiety to his parents. Before he was nine years of age he would often leave the castle without their knowledge, and collect all the children he met with on his way, and then fight them one by one, or try his strength against a number of them together. When he returned home, bleeding, and with torn and soiled garments, his mother would justly reprove him for behaving so little like a gentleman.
At last his fighting propensities increased to such a pitch that the country people complained of him to his father, and the Sire de la Motte was obliged to order a forfeit to be paid by the parents of all children who were found in his company. Nevertheless Bertrand still contrived to get out of the castle secretly, and to lead the little villagers to their mimic battles. His father, as a last resource, shut him up in the dungeon of the castle, and in this dreary place he remained four months. But one evening a maid-servant, whose office it was to bring him his food twice a day, left the door open behind her, and Bertrand managed to slip out, not forgetting in his haste to turn the key upon her, in case she should betray him to his parents. Then he ran as fast as ever he could to a field, unfastened a mare from one of his father's ploughs, mounted it, laughing heartily the while at the ploughman, who was rushing after him, and galloped as far as Rennes, without saddle or bridle, to the house of his aunt, a sister of the Sire de la Motte, who was married to a knight of great honour.
His aunt had often heard of his misconduct at home, and was not at all pleased to see him arrive in such plight. She began scolding him in harsh words, when luckily for him his uncle intervened in his favour, reminding his wife that Bertrand was only a child, and had done nothing yet to forfeit his honour. "He is brave and spirited," said the good knight; "let us keep him in our house, and see if we cannot transform him into a great captain for the glory of Bretagne."
Bertrand remained with his uncle at Rennes until he was sixteen, and learned from him all the accomplishments necessary for a knight. Moreover, he learned to be gentle and courteous to those around him, and in these happier circ.u.mstances the good points of his character shone forth, and his violent temper was curbed, whilst his spirit remained free. It is related of him that he was so generous, that when he met with any poor persons, and had no money with him, he would give them some of the very clothes he wore, and if he had only a penny would share it with those who were in need. He found his greatest delight in listening to his uncle's stories of battles and sieges, and when some n.o.ble exploit was related, would clap his hands for joy, whilst his eyes shone like fire.
A very great fault, however, still remained to him, and that was his love of fighting. One Sunday it was announced in the city of Rennes that a prize would be given to the youth who should acquit himself best in single combat. Bertrand burned with impatience to enter the lists, and his aunt, fearing the temptation might prove too strong for him, carried him off with her to church, thinking he would certainly be safe there under her vigilant eye. As soon as Bertrand saw that her attention was fully absorbed in listening to the sermon, he took the opportunity of slipping out of church, and ran at full speed to the market-place. Here he was recognised by some of his opponents of former years, but he made them promise not to betray him to his aunt, and was just going to enter the lists, when a young Breton, who had thrown twelve of his compet.i.tors to the ground, advanced proudly to claim the prize, which was a hat with feather and silver band.
Bertrand defied him to the combat, and after a long struggle succeeded in overthrowing him; but during the time he had happened to fall on his opponent, and in so doing had cut his knee severely with a stone. This accident caused him so much pain that he could hardly stand, and he begged his comrades to take him to a surgeon's, where his wound could be dressed.
The prize was brought to him there, but he dared not accept it, for fear his aunt, of whom he always seems to have had a wholesome dread, should hear of what he had done. She had indeed missed him, and had sought for him everywhere, and she did not spare her reproaches when she discovered the state he was in. Nevertheless she showed him greater kindness than he deserved, and nursed him until he had recovered from his wound.
The knight at last persuaded his father to recall him to the castle of La Motte Bron. Now Bertrand tasted the real joy of home for the first time, for his father was so delighted at the improvement in his character that he no longer withheld his love from him, and every member of the household had a kind word for him; while in former times, when he was so very naughty and unruly, there had only been complaints and reproofs.
The Sire Du Guesclin took care that the martial studies of his son should be completed, and gave him a little horse, on which Bertrand rode about to visit the great lords in the neighbourhood, and was present at the jousts and tournaments which were so often held at that time. Du Guesclin's poverty and youth prevented him, however, from entering the lists, and making known his courage and martial skill to the world. He grieved, too, because he was so ugly, and so humbly equipped, his famed steed being "little better than a miller's horse."
The time came at last when he was enabled to distinguish himself. A great tournament was announced at Rennes on the marriage of Jeanne de Penthievre, heiress to the duchy of Bretagne, with Charles de Blois, who was nephew to the King of France. The Sire de la Motte Bron judged it to be a fit occasion for the display of his dignity, and went with the n.o.bles of Bretagne to Rennes, followed by a great number of his va.s.sals; whilst poor Bertrand, mounted on his insignificant horse, and easily recognised by the roundness and largeness of his head, his short nose, his strongly-marked eyebrows, and his square-set figure, was an object of ridicule to the peasants as they flocked along the road to Rennes. The tournament used to be held in an open s.p.a.ce inside the city, and the ladies, richly attired, looked on from the windows and balconies around.
Bertrand's eyes flashed when he reached the arena where the knights were already engaged, and heard the sound of the trumpets and the clashing of the weapons. "I shall never please the ladies," he said, as he had said many a time before, "but I will make my name to be feared by the enemies of my country."
Seeing one of his relations retire from the combat, he followed him to his house, and, throwing himself on his knees before him, implored him to lend him some armour and a horse. His cousin good-naturedly lent him a fresh horse, and armed him himself, and Bertrand rushed back to the tournament, and, having entered the lists without naming himself, challenged a knight, and quickly overthrew him. Another knight now came forward to avenge the vanquished one, and Bertrand was just going to attack him, when he saw his father's arms upon his shield, and bowing low, withdrew, to the astonishment of the spectators. After this he challenged no fewer than fifteen knights without coming to grief himself. All the people present were now very anxious to know his name, and one of the ladies who sat in the great balcony entreated a Norman knight to descend into the arena, and, if possible, remove the visor from the victor's face. The knight went down, and had just succeeded in removing the helmet from Bertrand's head, when a strong arm suddenly lifted him off his horse and laid him in the dust. Then Reynauld du Guesclin recognised his son, and hastened to embrace him in his pride and joy, and Bertrand was proclaimed victor over all to the sound of the trumpets, and received the prize, which was a beautiful silver swan, life size. The prize, however, he did not keep for himself, but gave it to his cousin, whose kindness had enabled him to win so great renown.
When Bertrand was twenty years of age he was no longer contented with displaying his prowess in tournaments, but began to fight in good earnest, taking the part of Charles de Blois in a quarrel that lasted for a very long time between that prince and his rival, Jean de Montfort.
Jean de Bretagne, known by the name of the Good Duke, had died without leaving any childhood, and was succeeded by his brother, Guy, Count of Penthievre, whose daughter's marriage with Charles de Blois had occasioned the festivity at Rennes. Charles thus claimed the duchy in right of his wife; but Guy was no sooner dead than his half-brother, Jean de Montfort, came forward, and maintained that his t.i.tle to Bretagne was a better one than that of his niece.
This was not true, because the right of female succession had been fully established in the duchy, and the King of France and many of the Breton n.o.bles sided with Charles, while the King of England sent a.s.sistance to De Montfort.
The wives of both princes were women of extraordinary spirit. Jeanne, Countess de Montfort, defended her husband's rights whilst he lived, and after his death those of his son, who was likewise named Jean; and once during the war, when she was shut up in the town of Hennebon, she held out, like a brave and skilful general, against all the attacks of the enemy until Sir Walter Manny arrived with succour from King Edward the Third of England. Jeanne de Penthievre was a woman of equal courage, but her pride and ambition caused her husband to risk the battle which cost him his life, and proved, as will be seen hereafter, the ruin of her own cause.
Du Guesclin chose the side of Charles de Blois because he believed it to be the right one. "Never," said he, "while I live, will I maintain an unrighteous cause." He was soon at the head of sixty men, in readiness to serve, and sold his mother's jewels that he might be able to buy horses, harness, and arms. His chroniclers tell us, however, how he very soon captured from an English knight, whom he met in a forest, a treasure consisting of jewels, which he gave to his mother in compensation for those she had lost. Although gunpowder was known in those days, it was very little used; the chief weapons were swords, lances, battle-axes, cross-bows, and clubs; and every warrior defended himself with the shield.
Bertrand's name came to be feared by his enemies, as he had predicted in the days gone by: his first attempts in warfare were chiefly against the English, who held many of the fortresses in Bretagne for Jean de Montfort.
A story is told of the manner in which he gained possession of one of these, the Castle of Fougeray, which was a very important place.
Bertrand knew all the ins and outs of the castle, because in the chances of war he had once been a prisoner for a short time within its walls, and he disguised himself, and about twenty of his companions in arms, as wood-cutters, in white gowns reaching down to the knee, and with bundles of f.a.ggots on their shoulders, as he had often seen the poor peasants bringing wood to the castle. He divided his men, to make it appear that they were coming from different parts of the country to sell their wood, and waited for the time when the governor should have gone out of his stronghold with a part of the garrison. When all was ready they pa.s.sed the night securely in the forest, and came out of it in the grey dawn of the morning with their bundles on their shoulders.
The watchman of Fougeray saw them dimly in the distance, and rang the bell, to give the alarm, but all fear vanished when it was seen that only wood-cutters were coming towards the castle. Bertrand advanced to the drawbridge, and asked the porter if he did not want wood. The porter said that he did, and not suspecting any harm, let down the drawbridge at once.
Du Guesclin laid down his heavy load of wood so as to prevent the bridge from being drawn up, and rushed on to the castle, shouting "Guesclin," the war cry which afterwards became so terrible to his enemies. His comrades followed quickly at his summons; the unhappy porter fell wounded in the struggle, and as there were a hundred men in the place and Bertrand had only sixty when all had come to his aid, the conflict was very sharp; women and children even throwing showers of stones on the heads of the Bretons.
Du Guesclin himself was severely wounded, and was found defending himself to the last, without his hatchet, when a party of cavalry belonging to Charles de Blois came up in time to secure possession of the castle. The whole affair may have been considered an ingenious trick, but I think it would have been more n.o.ble for Bertrand to have ridden up openly to his enemies, clad in his armour, and with his sword in his hand, than to have deceived them by the woodcutter's guise.
The war went on, and at last the King of England sent Henry, the good Duke of Lancaster, to Bretagne at the head of a large force, with orders to lay siege to Rennes, the city where Bertrand had pa.s.sed the happiest days of his boyhood, and which had twice been the scene of his triumphs. Besides all the great English n.o.bles who had accompanied the duke, the army was increased by many Breton gentlemen who had enlisted themselves on the side of Jean de Montfort, and Lancaster made a solemn vow not to depart from Rennes until he had planted his standard upon its walls.
Bertrand concealed himself in a forest near the city, and constantly hara.s.sed his enemies by rushing suddenly upon them, by day and by night, and always to the cry of "Guesclin," until at last the Duke of Lancaster swore that if ever the brave Breton captain fell into his hands, he would never let him free, however large a ransom might be offered for him.
Lancaster made several attempts upon Rennes, but with little success. One day an English officer who had been captured by Du Guesclin, told him that his countrymen intended to undermine the city and open a breach. Upon this news Bertrand contrived one very dark night to glide with his Bretons into the midst of the English camp, where all was silent, and set fire to some of the tents. The enemy, awakened by the usual cry of "Guesclin," thought that Charles de Blois had fallen upon them with his army, and were very angry as they put out their fires to find it was only Bertrand with his handful of men.
The governor of Rennes now gave orders that in all the houses near the ramparts little copper basins should be hung with one or two b.a.l.l.s of bra.s.s in each, so that by the jingling of the metal, which the movement of the miners would cause, it might be known in what direction they were at work.
By this means the garrison were enabled to work against them until the mine was pierced, and the besiegers found a body of troops ready to beat them back.
The Duke of Lancaster now thought of another plan for subduing the people of Rennes. Knowing that they were almost without provisions, he caused two thousand pigs to be a.s.sembled in a field near the walls of the city, hoping that the hungry inhabitants would come out for the purpose of capturing them. The governor, however, was not to be outwitted, and had a sow attached by a rope to the gate of Rennes, with its head downwards. The sow struggled so hard to free itself and grunted and squeaked so loud that the other pigs were naturally attracted to the spot. When the besieged saw that the pigs were coming in that direction they lowered the drawbridge, and cut the rope. The sow, thus released, ran joyfully back into the city, followed by all the other pigs, and it was certain that the famished people of Rennes had a good meal that day and for many days after.
Du Guesclin performed numerous acts of daring during the siege, and one day, when the Bretons had eaten up the two thousand pigs and were very near dying of hunger again, he intercepted and captured a hundred waggons, loaded with wine, flour, and salt meat, which were on their way to the English camp; but when he found that the waggoners were supplying these provisions to the enemy at their own cost, he paid them liberally for all that he had seized.
The Duke of Lancaster now prepared a huge machine which was often used in those times of warfare. This was a wooden tower on wheels, as high as the walls of the city, which contained a number of men inside, who shot surely from it with their arrows. The tower would have caused great havoc, had not Bertrand one night crawled out with his Bretons, and completely destroyed it by fire.
Winter was now coming on: the lengthened siege had lost the lives of many brave men, and Henry of Lancaster at last sent a herald to Du Guesclin to tell him that he desired to speak with him. The herald brought a written pa.s.sport which, alas! Bertrand was obliged to have read to him by one of his comrades. He had always been so heedless and disobedient in the old days at La Motte, that no one had been able to teach him to read or write, and he had never succeeded in learning in after years, although some authors a.s.sert that he could really sign his name.
Bertrand dismissed the herald with a handsome present of clothes and money, and then repaired to the camp of the brave English duke. When there he was asked by Lancaster, whom he owned for his master. "Charles de Blois," he replied promptly, "to whom Bretagne belongs in right of his wife."
The Duke was much pleased with his boldness and resolution, and offered him a high rank in his army if he would consent to enter his service; but Bertrand replied that nothing should ever shake him in his fidelity to Charles de Blois.
Lancaster now received orders from his father to raise the siege: yet he could not depart, in remembrance of the oath he had taken, and Du Guesclin proposed that he should enter the city with ten of his knights, and plant his standard on its walls. When this was done, Du Guesclin politely asked him where the war was to be carried on in future. "Bertrand, my fair friend," replied the duke, "you shall soon know." He had scarcely gone past the barrier when he saw his standard thrown down into the moat; nevertheless he had kept his oath, and having raised the siege, he decamped with all his host, and went to pa.s.s the winter at Auray.
Du Guesclin was quick to resent an affront offered to any member of his family. The Duke of Lancaster with the brave Sir John Chandos was before Dinan, which town Bertrand, his brother Olivier, and the governor who had defended Rennes, had hastened to enter before the enemy could invest it.
One day when all was quiet, Olivier Du Guesclin had gone out of the town unarmed for the purpose of amusing himself in the open country, when he met with an English knight, who asked him his name, and behaved in a very haughty manner towards him, and made him walk on first, vowing that he should not escape until he had given him a thousand good florins. A Breton knight, however, who had seen Olivier made prisoner, hastened to tell Du Guesclin what had happened. Bertrand instantly mounted his horse and rode off to the English camp, where he found the Duke of Lancaster in his tent playing at chess with Sir John Chandos, whilst several of the chief n.o.bles were standing around looking on. They were all glad to see Bertrand because they had a great respect for his valour, and it is true that he had many qualities which endeared him to his fellow-men, and gained for him friendships which lasted as long as life.
Du Guesclin would not drink the wine they poured out for him until justice had been done to his brother. Henry of Lancaster was an upright man, and promised to settle the matter fairly. He summoned the offending knight to his presence, and ordered him to release Olivier at once. But the knight, who was called Thomas of Canterbury, would not allow that the complaint made against him by Bertrand was just, and threw down his iron glove in defiance. It was soon known in Dinan that a terrible combat would take place between the two knights, and the people feared that Du Guesclin would fall, because the Englishman was possessed of such extraordinary strength and skill. But a very beautiful young lady of n.o.ble family in Dinan, named Tiphaine de Raguenel, whom Bertrand married soon after the siege was raised, predicted that he would triumph over his foe. Tiphaine was called an astrologer, because she professed to foretell by observing the stars in the heavens, whether people were to be prosperous in their lives or unfortunate; happy or miserable. This was very foolish, and we know better in our own times than to put faith in such a science; and even in Dinan, when by chance Tiphaine's predictions came true, the people looked upon her with distrust and called her a witch. The Duke of Lancaster with all his n.o.bles came into the town to witness the combat, which ended to the great joy of the inhabitants of Dinan in the triumph of Bertrand, and the offending knight was ordered by Lancaster to retire from his service.
The siege of Dinan was raised by our King Edward, who had King John of France at this time a prisoner in the palace of the Savoy. Du Guesclin went on fighting for Charles de Blois, until at last the younger Jean de Montfort got weary of the war, and proposed to his rival that the Duchy of Bretagne should be halved between them; and that Rennes should be the capital of Charles's dominions, and Nantes the capital of his own. Charles de Blois was a man who loved peace; he agreed solemnly to divide the duchy as Jean had proposed, and would have kept faith with him, had not his wife broken out into a violent pa.s.sion as soon as she heard what he had done, and overruled him by saying that she would never consent to so shameful a settlement, and that she had married him to defend the whole of her duchy, and not the half of it. The war must have broken out again at once if the good offices of Lancaster had not effected a truce for a time.
When King John came back to France he invited Du Guesclin to enter his service, and gave him the command of a hundred lances. Each lance, or man-at-arms, was attended by three archers, a man armed with a cutla.s.s, and a page, so that a company of a hundred lances really included six hundred men. Du Guesclin had the permission to form his troop of the gentlemen of Bretagne, of whom many were his relations and friends; and with these he set out hopefully to take part in a war which King John was carrying on in Normandy against the wicked King of Navarre.
Bertrand did the king good service in Normandy, and captured the towns of Mantes and Meulan. At the latter place he lost all patience with the tardiness of the besiegers, and seizing a ladder, began to mount it with his sword in his hand, and his shield on his breast. He was just mounting the last steps and boasting to the Baron of Mereuil who was on the other side of the wall, that he would soon make him feel the strength of his arm, when the baron threw some heavy stones on the ladder, which dashed it to pieces, and Bertrand fell with his head downwards into the ditch around the city wall. The ditch was full of water, and Bertrand was taken out by his comrades half dead, but he scarcely waited for his injuries to be healed, before he began to fight with greater vigour than before, and a little while later gained the battle of Cocherel over the Captal de Buche, who was fighting for the King of Navarre, and took the Captal prisoner.
King John was now dead, and Charles the Wise was on the throne of France.
The victory at Cocherel had served to raise the spirits of the French, who had been much cast down by their defeats during the two last sieges, and the fame of Du Guesclin was spoken all over the country.
But the war unhappily broke out in Bretagne once more. Jean de Montfort, angry with his rival for his breach of faith, came with his army to invest the town of Auray. The people there were in great need and misery, and lighted fires every night on the summits of their towers in token of their distress. Charles de Blois set off at once to a.s.sist them in their danger, but his wife at parting, charged him on no account whatever to agree to any division of the duchy. Du Guesclin and many brave n.o.bles and knights hastened to join his army; and when they arrived in sight of Auray, De Montfort sent a herald to them to propose peace on the terms that had already been made, or to demand an immediate battle.
Charles de Blois, weakly dreading the anger of his wife if he gave way, sent the herald back without an answer, although in his heart he was longing more than ever to be at peace.
In the disastrous battle of Auray which began soon after, and lasted for seven hours, Charles de Blois lost his life, the celebrated Oliver Du Clisson an eye, and Du Guesclin his liberty. It was late in the day, and Bertrand was left almost alone upon the battle field with the dead lying around him; he had been thrown from his horse, and surrounded by his enemies, but he had risen from the ground and defended himself single-handed to the last. Now the blood was flowing from his wounds; his sword was broken; the handle had been wrenched off his battle-axe, and Sir John Chandos found him armed only with an iron hammer. It was useless for him to resist longer, and when he had given up the broken piece of his sword into the hands of the English knight, the battle was at an end.
Charles de Blois had fought that day like one in despair. With his last breath he had said that he had long waged war against his conscience. And thus the feud was ended which had lasted for nearly twenty years; Jean de Montfort could have the whole duchy of Bretagne for himself, and the unhappy widow of his rival had the sorrow of remembering that it was her own pride and unbending spirit which had cost her the life of her husband.
The people of Bretagne were so tired of war that when, a little while after, the treaty, which Jean de Montfort was making with Jeanne, could not be settled, they a.s.sembled in a vast concourse and throwing themselves on the ground, implored the Count to give them peace.
The King of France did not suffer Bertrand to remain a captive long. The country was at that time infested by bands of lawless men of various nations, who called themselves "Free Companies," and used to go about laying waste the orchards and fields, sacking and burning the castles of the n.o.bility; and making war just as they pleased. The greater number of these men were disbanded soldiers, whose services were no longer needed now that the war was at an end.