3
‘Let the Boy Win His Spurs’: Crécy and Calais
The reign of Edward III has often and continues to be described in glowing terms (if only until 1369) but before 1346 he had achieved little, at least in France. The policy of alliances had brought England to the verge of bankruptcy, and the king had only narrowly avoided a major political crisis in 1340–1. The campaign of 1346 was, in some respects, a ‘last throw of the dice’; the victory at Crécy was needed to preserve Edward’s continental ambitions, reputation and the support of the country, particularly in parliament.
The failure of the 1344 peace talks at Avignon resulted in a hardening of both French and English positions regarding Gascony. King Philip appointed the dauphin, Jean, duke of Guienne, and at about the same time, Henry of Grosmont and the earl of Arundel were despatched to the duchy as Edward III’s lieutenants. Grosmont returned in 1345 with an army and as sole lieutenant. Further forces were sent to Brittany under the command of Northampton, and the king and the Black Prince set sail for Flanders. Certain key members of the prince’s household accompanied him, including Edmund Wauncy (household steward and bachelor, member of the council), Richard de la Bere, Roland Daneys and Guillaume St Omer. The intention was to reopen hostilities with raids from Flanders, but this was scuppered by the assassination of Jacob van Artevelde. The king returned and plans were afoot for an expedition to France by 29 September when commissions of array of Welsh troops were ordered.1
In the development of the plan for the 1346 Normandy operation, the role of Godfrey de Harcourt was central.2 Harcourt had been knighted in 1326 and became lord of Saint-Sauveur-le-Victomte in the Cotentin four years later. This was one of the strongest fortresses in western Normandy. He came into conflict with another Norman noble, Guillaume Bertran, over the marriage of Jeanette Bacon, one of the wealthiest heiresses in the province. Hostilities broke out: the king and parlement sided with Bertran and condemned Harcourt who sought refuge in London, and as Robert of Artois had done in 1336, gave homage to Edward III.3
The war had not been a success thus far; a different approach was needed to stave off political opposition at home and secure a victory abroad, one secured at a cost that parliament would accept. The failure at Tournai (1340) and the subsequent truce of Espléchin necessitated a change of English strategy that was both political and military. The crushing expense of the foreign alliances were set aside in favour of predominantly English and Welsh troops, and the king sought to implement the strategy that had seen so much success in Scotland. In the course of the first French campaign, he ‘had found himself helpless against an enemy who concentrated on defensive tactics and refused to be brought to battle’. The target of this new assault was greatly influenced by Harcourt, whose own interests led him to encourage Edward to attack Normandy. This also had the advantage of being the closest landfall to Portsmouth and there the coast was virtually undefended. There were further advantages that the Norman emphasised, such as the wealth of the region and the advantage that could be gained through the use of his personal knowledge of the area.
There were strict attempts to maintain secrecy prior to and during the operation of 1346, but the scale of preparations was such that the timetable became almost common knowledge. However, the French did not know, at least until very late in the day, the destination of the fleet, which was altered on a number of occasions and probably not revealed to any but the king’s closest confidants. Adverse winds may also have altered the intended destination; consequently, French defensive preparations were inadequate. The Flemish alliance and a commission given to Sir Hugh Hastings [see figs 12, 13] in June shows that a landing in northern France had already been considered as an option if only to divert French forces from the duchy. On 20 June, Hastings, who had recently returned from Gascony, was appointed the king’s lieutenant and commander in Flanders and Brittany. Hastings, John Moleyns, John Mautravers and perhaps John Montgommery led a force of 230 archers and a few men-at-arms while several Flemish towns provided additional troops.4
In 1346, the prince had his first real taste of the military life and he was suitably prepared and equipped for the experience. His personal retinue included 11 bannerets, 102 knights bachelor, 264 men-at-arms/esquires, 384 horsed archers and 582 on foot, a total of 1,343 soldiers. However, some of these may have been drafted in for the subsequent siege of Calais, the loss of the pay accounts for the expedition makes the reconstruction of the army problematic.5 The primary recruiting area for the bulk of the army was Wales, which was to provide some 7,000 soldiers, half from the principality and half from the Marches, and a further 100 archers were brought in from Cheshire.
There were fears that in the course of the expedition, a reciprocal invasion might be launched and so, on 26 July, watches were ordered to be set in Flint and North Wales for French and, remarkably, Turkish ships. The Turkish ‘threat’ may have simply been another element in the king’s propaganda campaign, emphasising the danger of invasion in order to demonstrate the defensive nature of the war and to propose that there was an alliance between the French and the heathen Turks. It is quite an extraordinary statement considering that the ‘Sarazins’ did not acquire a European base until 1354.6 However, the fear of a French invasion was not unfounded as plans found at Caen proved, suggesting that a force of 4,000 men-at-arms, 5,000 foot and 5,000 crossbowmen would be mustered for an attack on England. It was in the king’s interest to exaggerate the threat of invasion in order to ensure continuing revenue from taxation, which, in theory, would be provided only for a war fought in self-defence.7
The main attack was preceded by small incursions in other regions. In addition to Hastings’ expedition, Thomas Dagworth rode against the French-allied claimant to Brittany and defeated Charles de Blois on 9 June 1346 near Saint-Pol de Leon. Richard Totesham, with the garrison from La Roche-Derrien, raided and sacked Lannion.8 At Aiguillon, small groups of English and Gascon troops commanded by Lancaster managed to infiltrate and seize the town. Lancaster’s deputy was Walter Mauny and the troops included Ralph Stafford, then the keeper of the prince’s estates, as well as Nigel Loryng and perhaps Richard Stafford. They were then themselves besieged. This may have been the event, compounded by the influence of Godfrey de Harcourt, which decided Edward on invading the Cotentin peninsula.9 Harcourt’s involvement indicates that the original plan may have been to attempt some sort of occupation of Normandy and perhaps what began as a campaign of conquest became a chevauchée.10
The army landed at La Hougue on 12 July 1346. Disembarkation was an extended process lengthened by the necessity to rest the horses after the long crossing. In that time, the king took the opportunity to recoup some of the costs of the campaign and mark its beginning by knighting his eldest son and a number of others. The occasion traditionally allowed a tax to be levied.
Edward’s motivation in the course of the campaign and indeed in this general period of the war remains an area of contention and is very much open to question. Clifford Rogers has argued strongly against traditional opinion and the fabian military advice of Vegetius that Edward III intended to bring his opponent to battle as he had singly failed to do in earlier expeditions and ‘to win his rights by force of arms’.11
La Hougue and Barfleur were attacked on 13 and 14 July respectively. There was continuing support from the fleet which burnt and laid waste the whole seacoast from Barfleur as far as the Fosse de Colleville near Caen, and likewise burnt the town of Cherbourg and the ships of La Havre, so that ‘one hundred or more great ships and other vessels of the enemy’ were burnt.12 Alongside the policy of devastation, attempts were made to incite rebellion against the Valois monarchy. There was certainly support for Edward, but whether this was gained through intimidation or political sympathy is not clear. In any case, ransom payments made to the English and resistance in the Cotentin was very limited.13
The army was divided into three ‘battles’ or divisions. The vanguard, under the nominal command of the prince, included the earls of Northampton and Warwick, the constable and marshal respectively. The king was in the main body, while the earls of Suffolk, Arundel and Huntingdon led the rearguard. The three marched on a wide front to maximise the destruction. The vanguard reached Pont Hébert on 21 July where the bridge, broken by the retreating Robert Bertrand, marshal of France and sire de Bricquebec, was rebuilt. Bertrand had responsibility for the defence of the Cotentin coast from Honfleur to Mont-Saint-Michel. This was no easy task as, apart from Cherbourg, there were no notable fortifications.14 On the following day, believing erroneously that Bertrand intended to give battle, Edward knighted Henry Burghersh, another member of the family with close links to the royal family. After capturing Saint-Lô and sacking the town with particular viciousness since it had offered token resistance, they burned their way to Caen. Edward III arrived there on 24th while the prince was at Cheux, two miles to the west. The forces in Caen were commanded by Raoul, count of Eu and constable of France, the lord of Tancarville, and the recently arrived Bertrand. The numbers of defenders is very uncertain; estimates vary between 1,000 and a less likely 6,000 men-at-arms, Genoese mercenaries and militia. The prince set up camp to the north, near the deserted Abbaye aux Dames.
Despite orders from the king, the western gate was seized and the earl of Warwick, who had been sent by the king to recall the attackers, joined in with the fighting, and entered the town followed by Northampton and Richard Talbot leading a disordered contingent. The battle spread along the river and overran the defenders, the constable surrendered to Thomas Holland, future earl of Kent, and the chamberlain to the prince’s retainer, Thomas Daniel. Captives from Caen were taken to England by the earl of Huntingdon. Those who were not worth ransoming did not fare so well.15
Shortly after, on 29 July, Philip VI proclaimed the arrière-ban, recalling the duke of Normandy from the siege of Aiguillon and leaving only a small detachment to defend against the expected attack from Flanders as the king concentrated his defences on the Seine. The abrupt departure of the army from Aiguillon meant that horses, tents and other equipment were left behind and captured by the English. In this, one of the prince’s associates and sheriff of Merionneth, ‘That arch-spoilator Walter Mauny took the lead.’16Lancaster then led his troops in pursuit of the duke northwards. Meanwhile, Philip tried to slow the invaders by breaking the bridges along the Seine.
At this point the English army formed two columns and slowly marched east toward Rouen. It was repulsed at Pont de l’Arche and moved towards Paris, storming Longueville and killing the garrison, although it failed to take the bridge of Vernon. The prince spent a night at Mounceaux.17 On 11 August, while near the bridge of Meulan, the earls of Warwick and Northampton and a detachment from the prince’s division were sent to investigate the possibility of forcing a crossing but they were taunted into a disorganised assault and driven back.
On 12 August, the army came within twenty miles of Paris causing panic and hastening defensive preparations. Although he had a larger army than Edward (some 8,000 men-at-arms, 6,000 Genoese and a large number of infantrymen), Philip could not defend the city from all sides. The bridge at Poissy was broken, headquarters were established at Saint-Denis and the army was encamped at Saint-Cloud. The English occupied Poissy and Saint-Germain-en-Laye where the prince stayed in the old palace. Despite French attacks, the bridge was rebuilt.18
Philip withdrew to the plain between Paris and Saint-Denis on 14 August, and from where he issued a challenge to Edward, which was probably accepted as the French army assembled in battle order near the abbey of Saint Germain on the southern wall of Paris. From there, they marched to what was, presumably, the proposed battleground among the vineyards of Bourg-la-Reine and Antony. This allowed Edward to retreat northwards after burning Poissy and breaking the Auteuil bridge. Philip hurried in pursuit. Rogers suggests that although Edward accepted the challenge, he did not accept either the time nor place of battle, which appears unlikely.19 In a succession of forced marches covering about twenty-five miles a day, the French then raced to beat Edward to the Somme. Part of the reason for the English failure to reach the river with any time to spare, despite their head start, was the indiscipline of the prince’s vanguard. A day was wasted attacking the insignificant village of Vessencourt. They were stopped on the point of assaulting Beauvais, but could not be prevented from burning the suburbs and most of the outlying churches, while the walls of Poix-en-Beauvais were undermined and assaulted in direct contravention of the king’s order. The prince spent the night of 16 August at Grisy-le-Plâtres and the 18 August at Milly. On the following day he reached Grandvilliers and on the 20th Molliens. When they finally reached the River Somme, it was found to be impassable. Warwick failed to force a passage on the 22nd at Hangest, and the French approach forced a retreat towards the coast turning north at Oisemont to the mouth of the river. Shortly after midnight on the 24th, the English army discovered a ford across the river at Blanchetaque.20 Godemar du Fay (later to become seneschal of Beaucaire and Nîmes)21 defended it on the opposite shore with 500 men-at-arms and 3,000 infantry. Northampton, Hugh Despenser and Reginald Cobham led 100 men-at-arms and archers of the vanguard across the stream. When they were in range, the archers opened fire, providing cover for the men-at-arms to attack the north bank and establish a bridgehead while the others then crossed behind. Godemar was forced to retreat while Philip, who had pursued the English to Blanchetaque, was beaten by the tide. At about this date (24 August), the Flemings abandoned their campaign after failing to take Béthune. Philip returned to Abbeville then took the Hesdin road to try to cut Edward off from the north. The English army halted near the village of Crécy.
It may have been the numerical superiority of the French army that led to the English withdrawal over the Somme and then to Crécy. Alternatively, rather than fleeing from Philip, the entire campaign strategy may have been an attempt to bring him to battle. Edward had failed to do so at Vironfosse in 1339 and, a year later, Philip had declined to confront him at Tournai. The expense of these failures was such that Edward may have decided that only a major large-scale victory could secure the French throne or sufficient political leverage. Perhaps the devastation wrought during the march from La Hogue was designed, in addition to damaging the tax revenue, to cause baronial discontent and induce the French to attack. The plan may have been laid out in particular detail since in view of the speed with which he took up position after crossing the Somme, the battlefield must have been reconnoitred in advance and certain defences prepared including pit-traps to hamper the French cavalry. The route taken during the retreat from Paris was convoluted and the time wasted in attacking Oisemont, and in the two days following the Somme crossing could indicate that Edward hoped to induce a battle. Certainly, Giovanni Villani, the Italian chronicler, noted Edward was looking to select a suitable site for the encounter.22 The king had faith in his cause, his army, and its commanders. Warwick, Arundel and Suffolk had seen service in Scotland, Flanders and Brittany, and Warwick and Arundel had fought at Sluys in 1340. Northampton had commanded forces in Flanders and Brittany (including at Morlaix in 1342). Edward III had fought in all these theatres and was noted in particular for his victory at Halidon Hill. Morale was good and the army was perfecting a tactical system that had defeated odds of 10 to 1 at Dupplin Moor. Although the English were exhausted after marching over 300 miles in the previous month, they did have time to prepare. Furthermore, the move towards Flanders provided the possibility of bringing in reinforcements or offering a route of escape in the event of defeat, and there may also have been financial considerations. Parliament had advised the king to seek battle. The 1344 subsidy had been granted on that condition and he had publicly and privately proclaimed this intention. It was in his best financial interests to seek a swift resolution since taxation revenue had been all but exhausted.23 The delay could simply have been due to indiscipline and/or poor geographical awareness, but it may be significant that a similar ‘mishap’ befell the Black Prince in the days leading up to the battle of Poitiers.
… about midday [26 September] new reports came to King Edward that King Philippe was ready and arrayed his men in three lines of battle. King Edward rejoiced … drew up his men and marched to the bridge at Crécy, and about the hour of vespers or a little before he saw the enemy approaching. The English had by now fasted a long time, having stood so as to be ready for the French.24
After the French had reconnoitred the strength of the English army and its formation, Philip decided to attack, despite advice to the contrary. The French army was organised in three battalions, one behind the other. In front of these were Genoese mercenaries armed with crossbows commanded by Carlo Grimaldi and Otto Doria. French reinforcements continued to arrive throughout the afternoon. Philip probably commanded 12,000 men-at-arms, 6,000 Genoese and several thousand infantry, creating a force of 20,000–25,000 soldiers.
The English made their stand at the end of an expanse of gently rising ground with their backs to the forest of Crécy-Grange and the sun. The prince led the vanguard with Warwick and Northampton as well as Kent, Godfrey de Harcourt, and Chandos. The king commanded the centre, and the bishop of Durham with the earls of Arundel and Suffolk led the rearguard.25 The archers were probably deployed on the wings of each ‘battle’, but may have begun the encounter in front of the dismounted infantry. There were also a number of cannon, which were used primarily to frighten the French horses. It was one of the first appearances of artillery on a battlefield.
The French attacked in the rain of the late afternoon led by the Genoese. Outranged by the English archers and without their shields, which were yet to arrive, they soon fled for their own lines and were cut down by the furious French cavalry, who, led by the count of Alençon, then attacked the English vanguard. The archers heavily disrupted the charge but some reached the English lines and a fierce fight ensued. The standard fell and was raised again by the prince’s retainer, Thomas Daniel26 and the prince himself was struck down and rescued by his standard-bearer, Richard FitzSimon.27 The French cavalry repeatedly wheeled, rallied and charged. It was during one of these attacks that entreaties may have been made to the king to ensure his son’s safety. Edward is said to have responded that he should not be sent for
as long as my son is alive. Give them my command to let the boy win his spurs, for if God has so ordained it, I wish the day to be his.28
As the French attacks failed, the horses were brought up from behind the English lines and, as they were to do at Poitiers, the men-at-arms remounted and charged the surviving French troops. At this, the bulk of the army fled leaving Philip with only a handful of companions, his personal bodyguard and some infantry levies from Orléans. After being injured, he was led away by John of Hainault abandoning the Oriflamme and the royal standard.29
On the following morning 2,000 infantry reserves, still following from Abbéville, arrived, unaware of the battle. They were scattered in a single charge by Northampton, Suffolk and Warwick and perhaps the prince.30 English casualties from the battle were very low. Only 40 men-at-arms were reported missing, although presumably many more infantry and archers were killed. By contrast, French casualties were extreme. This was a result of Edward’s orders, before the battle, that there was to be no plundering of the dead and no quarter for the living. This also followed from the French deployment of the Oriflamme, which, as at Poitiers, was seen as a sign of ‘guerre mortelle’.31 Reginald Cobham, Michael Northburgh and others counted 1,542 French knights and squires who fell near the prince’s lines alone.32 Amongst them were John, the blind king of Bohemia, and his knights, said by Froissart to have been tethered together so he might strike a blow in the conflict. It may have been from John, possibly slain by the prince himself, that Edward adopted the ostrich feathers as his device as Prince of Wales. Another of the fallen was Jean de Harcourt, Godfrey’s brother.
Crécy provided the blueprint for the troop composition of the prince’s later expeditions. Although it may not have begun as a chevauchée, the complement of the English forces in the 1346 campaign demonstrated the benefits of recruiting a balanced army of men-at-arms and archers who could offer a range of effective and flexible tactical options. In real terms, this meant a combination of dismounted men-at-arms and archers fighting together in a defensive position to repulse a numerically superior opponent. The archers reduced enemy numbers at a distance and disrupted their approach, giving the advantage to men-at-arms fighting in close formation. The combination of dismounted knights and archers was not new – William the Conqueror had used such a blend at Hastings – but it was considered innovative by contemporaries such as Thomas Gray in his description of the battle of Courtrai (1302) and still held good nearly fifty years later.33
The traditional view of the battle of Crécy has attributed the English victory to the stout yeomen archers and their longbows, but this was not the only advantage. ‘L’armee d’Edouard III etatit remarquable … par sa discipline et son esprit combatif.’34 However, despite these qualities, the French assault failed, at least partly because of a lack of coordination. The French army was multinational and this caused communication problems. By contrast, the only foreign troops in Edward’s army were the Welsh who were organised in small groups with English-speaking commanders. In the past, Philip had successfully avoided battle. This challenge proved too great to evade, and he was forced into combat more by domestic political concerns than military necessity, as Enrique of Trastamara was to be at Nájera over twenty years later. It is uncertain why he felt the need to attack before his troops were all assembled. The destruction of the Genoese crossbowmen might have been averted, or at least mitigated, had they been equipped with their shields (pavises), which were en route from Abbeville even as the arrows were falling. The lack of tactical direction from Philip, who had proved himself no mean general at Cassel in 1328 – the French victory there was one of the last battles to be won by an opening cavalry charge and may have coloured Philip’s actions at Crécy – and the impatience of the French nobles, especially Alençon, contributed much to the defeat. There seems to have been some success in the attack on the vanguard but it proved ultimately indecisive, and was, in any case, no real solution to their tactical problem.35 The role of the prince himself and his division should not be overlooked either. For all the superiority of the archers, the victory at Crécy depended on the ability of the vanguard to hold against repeated charges of those knights who, before that day, had been numbered among the finest in Christendom. The French cavalry displayed great skill in the battle. Despite the defensive preparations that had been made, the use of cannon to frighten the horses, the lack of central direction and control, and the threat of the archers, they managed to repeatedly charge, wheel and reform to attack again. The lack of central co-ordination did not stop the French aristocracy from ably fulfilling its traditional military role,although to no avail. Perhaps unfairly, blame was heaped upon them by contemporaries for attacking in disorder and allowing themselves to be defeated by dismounted men-at-arms and mere archers, ‘gens de nulle value’.36
The victorious army, urgently in need of supplies, marched slowly to Calais. The king’s decision to lay siege to the town does not appear to have been discussed in advance, and consideration may have been given to assaulting Boulogne, which was certainly attacked by English ships on 4 September. The siege of Calais began the day before and lasted until 4 August 1347, and may have involved up to 32,000 soldiers over the course of the operation. The coastal port may seem a meagre reward after the scale of the victory at Crécy, and in part it was. Certainly, the length of the siege and the consequent cost in money and manpower was excessive. The distinction between the sieges of the 1340s and those of the 1440s and the comparitive efficacy of artillery is very apparent. However, Calais was highly significant: it provided an extremely valuable base and the launching point for many subsequent campaigns.
The prince’s role in the siege is not clear, but there was extensive administrative activity leading to reinforcements, supplies and assorted provisions being sent from Cheshire, Wales and throughout his demesne to Calais. The loss of the central pay accounts makes the reconstruction of the army at Calais difficult. Ayton has pointed to a number of other documents that appear to be partial transcriptions from the originals and which may show the assembled siege force. He has also emphasised the problems associated with such transcripts, the most famous of which is Wrottesley’s Crécy and Calais.
The siege necessitated a great expansion in the size of the army. Estimates of the numbers of troops involved during the course of the operation range from 26,000 to 32,000.37 Cheshire reinforcements for Calais were demanded on 12 September 1346 and were led by Griffith ap Jor’ap Meyler and William Brereton, who may have died during the siege. Thomas Danyers was ordered to bring further reinforcements on 16 March 1347 as was Richard Baskerville in May. Orders were also sent to Alexander Wasteneys, William Tabley, Ralph Oldington, Ralph Stathum and Richard del Hogh, sheriff of Flint. Sir Rhys ap Griffith (a trusted knight of Edward II, and one-time justiciar of south Wales) led a contingent of Welsh reinforcements. He returned from France to lead them to Winchelsea. Welsh forces at Calais probably totalled 4,572.38 A number of the prince’s retinue returned to England over the winter, but rejoined the siege in May. These included the younger Burghersh, Richard Stafford, Thomas Daniel and Stephen Cosington (a former member of Lancaster’s retinue, and later a member of the prince’s council and bodyguard with additional ambassadorial and diplomatic duties). Philip VI took steps to relieve the siege and began to rally his forces as early as 3 October. There were French attempts to break the naval blockade but this failed and few supplies reached the town after the embargo began. Alternative efforts were made to displace the English. Philip encouraged David Bruce to lead an attack from Scotland. He encountered an army at Neville’s Cross, near Durham, in October 1346 and was captured himself and his army completely defeated. The French and their allies suffered a further loss in June 1347 when Charles de Blois was captured by Thomas Dagworth.
On 27 July 1347, Philip finally rallied his forces and brought an army to relieve the siege. This was offset somewhat by the appearance of Flemish reinforcements for the English. There was some skirmishing between the armies, but little of consequence. Negotiations opened and continued until 31 July, but came to no real resolution. Philip struck camp on 2 August, and with the last hope for rescue gone, the town surrendered two days later.
The Order of the Garter
The Hundred Years War and the victory at Crécy reintroduced the English aristocratic community to positions of military importance that had diminished since the latter years of the reign of Edward II. The Edwardian ‘military renaissance’ had considerable implications for chivalry. Victory reinforced the martial implications of knighthood and strengthened the aristocracy’s taste for war. Such attitudes were enshrined in the foundation of the Order of the Garter, which served as a perpetual memorial to Edward III’s continental aspirations and created a chivalric elite within the ranks of the military aristocracy. The symbol of the order had nothing to do with an embarrassing incident involving the Countess of Salisbury losing a garter at a ball (the lady in question was said by some to be Joan of Kent), but was in fact reminiscent of a belt or arming buckle, with the ‘knot’ symbolizing the ties of loyalty and affection that bound the companionship of the order together. Likewise, the motto, Honi soit qui mal y pense or ‘Shame on him who thinks ill of it’ was a direct reference to those who might doubt the veracity of Edward’s claim to the French throne or the manner by which he sought to make good that claim.39
The Garter was designed to be a chivalric forum of the highest order: recruitment to the twenty-six stalls (including the king and the prince of Wales) in St George’s chapel, Windsor, was international and membership was, at least theoretically, dependent not on political rank but chivalric achievement. However, those who were seen to have obstructed Edward in the early years of the French campaign did not find inclusion in the order’s ranks. The practical benefits of membership of the Garter were very limited, being essentially ceremonial and honorific as were the obligations of the members, but it became the highest achievement of English chivalry. Edward’s policy in melding chivalric values with foreign policy was mimicked in France through the creation of the Company of the Star and with much the same motivation. Due to peculiarities of recruitment and particularly because many of the prince’s close military associates were also members of the Garter, the battle of Poitiers was, at least among the command ranks, a conflict of these two Orders.
Through propaganda and the example of the king and his eldest son, substance was given to the Arthurian myth, which Edward III had sought to create in the prototype of the Garter, the Round Table (1344).40 The Garter was formed in 1348 and its membership seems to have been primarily dependent on service to the king in the campaigns leading up to the battle of Crécy. All but four, or at most six, did not play some part in the battle or in the 1346 campaign. Of these, many of the founder knights had or developed closeconnections to the prince. All of the founder members that sat on his side in St George’s chapel had fought with him in the first division at Crécy. They included Richard FitzSimon, who carried his standard, James Audley (the prince’s constant military companion alongside John Chandos), Walter Pavely (household bachelor and annuitant), Henry Eam (bachelor and annuitant), Nigel Loryng (a life retainer and trusted military and political adviser), Lords Mohun and Wale, the captal de Buch, Bartholomew Burghersh, the younger (steward of Wallingford, justice of Chester), John Lord Grey of Rotherfield and Roger Mortimer, earl of March.41 As the Order gained status and stature over the years, many more of the prince’s followers, and those of his wife, found inclusion in this select group such as Walter Mauny and William FitzWaryn. The process continued in Richard’s reign. Lewis Clifford joined the order and was also a member of Philippe de Mézières’ crusading Order of the Passion. John Burley, Simon’s brother, who was retained by the prince in his final years was elected to the Garter in 1381 where he joined Thomas Felton, Nicholas Sarnesfield, John Devereux, Peter Courtenay and John Bourchier, who had also seen service with Richard’s father.42
The original statutes of the order have been lost and the earliest extant version is based on a seventeenth-century transcription. The first regulations may not have been as detailed as those formulated in later years, but it seems very likely that some form of statutes governed the members of the order in the fourteenth century and probably from the outset. The most significant ceremonial occasion fell on St George’s Day (23 April). The companions assembled at Windsor the day before, where matters concerning the order were discussed and they attended vespers. High mass followed the next day and new members might be introduced. A banquet and final service concluded the festivities. A requiem mass was celebrated on 24 April.43
Meetings of the Garter were often accompanied by splendid tournaments, many of which were staged in true Arthurian style with knights fighting incognito or wearing fantastic costumes.44 Both Edward III and the Black Prince are known to have participated wearing disguises or costumes. Such events may have been particularly significant if, as has been suggested, the Garter comprised two tourneying teams headed by the king and his son. Tourneying was a regular and important feature of the prince’s life. At Windsor, perhaps for a Garter tournament in 1352, he purchased 60 buckles, 60 girdle-tips and 120 bars for ‘knights of the prince’s companionship’.45 At Eltham in 1354, he gave Chandos and Audley a pair of plates of armour covered, interestingly, with black velvet: unfortunately for those looking for a reason for his pseudonym, he purchased red velvet covered plates for himself. For the Garter tournament of 1358, the prince gave £100 as a gift to the heralds and minstrels at the jousts. At Smithfield in 1359, he purchased eleven ostrich feathers for the jousts and there are several other records of gifts of shields and other arms being ‘powdered’ with his device.46
Tournaments were becoming increasingly organised and less dangerous although fatalities were still relatively common. The mêlée as a form was becoming increasingly outmoded and with it the role of the tournament as training for military service. It still provided a taste of combat, but little real preparation for a young knight or esquire. Nonetheless, tournaments certainly played an important part in the courtly life of the prince and further enhanced his military reputation. Cuvelier, the biographer of Bertrand du Guesclin, attributed the prince’s military success to his being surrounded by knights hardened in the tourney.47
Arthurian connotations were not only reserved for the tournament and the Garter – they became part of the image and glamour of the royal family. Jean le Bel, on whose account much of the early part of Froissart’s chronicle was based, depicted Edward III as the second Arthur. The Black Prince was described similarly by Geoffrey Le Baker as the ‘Boar of Cornwall’. In time, literary motifs gave way to prophesy such as that of John Erghome, written to encourage Edward III to continue the war, which ended with the ‘reign’ of the Black Prince by then firmly established as the king of France.48 In addition, the prince was said to be in possession of a statue of a golden eagle, which contained a stone flask containing holy oil, presented by the Virgin to St Thomas. The first king to be anointed with it was ‘destined’ to recover Normandy and Aquitaine without force and be the greatest amongst kings. A priest presented it to Henry of Lancaster who in turn gave it to the Black Prince. The eagle was supposedly placed in the Tower of London in a locked chest but, significantly, it was not there when it was looked for in 1377 for Richard II’s coronation.49
In the years from 1345–8, the situation for England, Edward III and his son had changed radically. Triumph on the battlefield had been followed by a major acquisition in the form of Calais, a launching area for further assaults and a permanent base in the north of France to complement Gascony in the south. The opportunity for further campaigns and to capitalise on the situation was, however, prevented in a manner that was utterly terrible and completely unforeseen.
The Black Death
The bald statistics are shocking enough; the reality must have been appalling. Throughout Europe and certainly in England and France, between 30 per cent and 50 per cent of the population died in the years from 1347 to 1349. It was a scale of mortality that Europe had never witnessed and never has subsequently.50 There has been a tendency by later commentators to see a range of mitigating, even beneficial aspects to the plague. It has been viewed as a Malthusian check on a population that had outstretched the ability of the soil to sustain it and thus required some sort of demographic ‘limiter’ The direct role of the plague itself has also been questioned, as the population was already declining after the Great Famine of 1315–17 and so the plague struck a weakened population. The Black Death and its consequences have been viewed as, to use Sellars and Yeatman’s celebrated phrase, ‘A Good Thing’.51 There were great opportunities open to the survivors and socio-economic benefits in land, trade, social mobility and the like; however, such opportunities can have provided little comfort for those who survived this first outbreak of the plague and witnessed the death of 1 in 3 or perhaps half of their friends, family and loved ones. It coloured and shaped the attitudes of at least a generation and its effects were evident for the remaining half of the century.
The endemic incidents of bubonic, pneumonic and possibly septicaemic plague have received widely differing accounts by historians over a long period of time. Some have discounted the impact of the plague seeing it as negligible, whilst others have attributed such diverse events and attitudes as Lollardy, the Peasants’ Revolt, the wool trade, and nothing less than the end of feudalism to the catastrophic consequences of the death of perhaps half of the population. Neither extreme is true, but it is, nonetheless, difficult to underestimate the immediate impact and the long-term consequences of the repeated outbreaks of plague that struck Britain and the continent from 1347 until the early years of Henry IV’s reign. The socio-economic impact cannot be quantified, except in microcosm, and the psychological effects are even more problematic, especially when the vast majority considered the epidemic to be divine retribution on a sinful people. Despite this, the evidence for ‘change’, in concrete terms and in the attitudes and outlook of the survivors and their children, is compelling.
One of the most significant areas, given the ‘God-given’ nature of the epidemic, was religion. As a catalyst, the plague encouraged an increasingly Christocentric form of worship and also strengthened the doctrine of purgatory. The failure of the clergy to foresee or forestall this divine retribution encouraged individuals to seek a more direct and personal link with God and his saints. This took various forms including the foundation of chantries by which benefactors could receive the personal spiritual attention of a number of chaplains and the increasing use of portative altars and licences in order to hear mass in domestic chapels.
Church architecture and features may also have been influenced. This is most apparent in the form of monumental effigies and tombs. The denigration of the body and the barren values of the material world were demonstrated by tombs showing wracked, twisted and tormented bodies.52 Alternatively, it has been suggested that there could have been Arthurian connotations to such effigies and that such examples as the tombs of William Kerdeston, one of the prince’s Norfolk retainers, and Oliver Ingham, the one time seneschal of Aquitaine, depicted lying on stones and pebbles, show an image of the questing knight, lost in a mythical forest.
It is particularly interesting in the context of the prince and his retinue that the lead in a range of innovatory forms of religious patronage was taken by militarily active knights. For example, Hugh Calveley and Robert Knolles, two of the most celebrated and hated mercenary captains of the fourteenth century, were among the founders of St Thomas’ (Becket) hospice in Rome, as was a certain John Hawkwood. Both men have been described as ‘well-known philanthropists’ and Knolles ‘appears to have been genuinely conscientious in religious matters’.53
Support for the Carthusians also became popular, at least partly because of their interest in and respect for the contemplative life. They were one of the few orders to remain free of criticism from such commentators as Langland and Wyclif. Amongst those close to the Black Prince, Walter Mauny and Michael de la Pole founded the Charterhouses at London and Hull respectively. Mauny’s interest in the order may have been prompted by his association with Grosmont and Gaunt, both of whom had dealings with Beauvale priory, (Notts), and he was assisted with the foundation costs by the bishop of London, Michael Northburgh.54 Previously Mauny had provided a graveyard for plague-stricken Londoners and founded a college for twelve secular priests to pray for the dead.55 One of those who requested their prayers in his will was William Lord Latimer. De la Pole’s motives for founding the charterhouse in Hull are clear. His father had been the first mayor of the town (1331–5) and had represented it in parliament. Michael was granted the custody of the town with the manor of Myton in 1366.56 Peter Veel, the prince’s retainer and later MP for Gloucestershire and constable of Gloucester castle, in 1387 granted the advowson of Norton FitzWarren, Somerset, to the London charterhouse. Such gestures may well have had origins in a group mentality.57 Richard II gave the order one tun of Gascon wine annually after 1382 and was associated with the foundation of the Coventry charterhouse. The prince himself granted the Selwood charterhouse five marks a year on 6 August 1362. The prior and order of Hinton received ten marks a year in lieu of a tun of wine on 3 March 1362, and the prior of Witham five marks.58
Alongside such ideas were more radical movements for spiritual reform. Wyclif and the Lollards concerned themselves with issues concerning predestination, transubstantiation, the role of pilgrimages, and the illusory value of sumptuous tombs and elaborate requiems.
The Black Death both shaped English and French society and restricted Edward III’s ability to prosecute the war on any scale. However, military activity did not cease entirely. In 1349, plans were made in France for the recapture of Calais. Geoffrey de Charny tried to bribe Aimery of Pavia, the galley-master of the town and commander of one of the gate towers of the citadel, to allow Charny and his troops to enter secretly at night. Aimery, however, reported the plan to Edward III, who hurried across the Channel at Christmas with a small force including the Black Prince, the earl of March, and a number of their retainers and servants.
Charny approached Calais on the night of New Year’s Day 1350. Before dawn the following morning, he and several of his companions entered, but the drawbridge was closed behind them. Some of those remaining outside and led by Charles de Montorency fled, but the rest held firm until caught between the forces of the king and prince of Wales who both fought incognito under the banner of Walter Mauny. Among those captured were Charny himself, Eustace de Ribemont and Oudart de Renti.59
Geoffrey de Charny was one of the pre-eminent knights of his and perhaps any other generation to be placed alongside Henry of Lancaster, Bertrand du Guesclin, the Black Prince, Edward III and, in later years, Marshal Boucicault. He was the first known owner of the Shroud of Turin and died bearing the Oriflamme at Poitiers. He wrote a number of military and chivalric treatises, and his Livre de Chevalerie was most likely composed for King Jean’s Company of the Star. The raid on Calais was not the jewel in the crown of an otherwise glittering career, but it serves to demonstrate the wide range of skills and abilities required of the military aristocracy and the mutability of the chivalric code by which they lived.
Limited action also continued at sea and the prince’s first naval encounter was at Winchelsea in 1350. On 29 August, the English fleet, numbering something over 40 vessels, intercepted about 24 much larger Castilian ships led by Charles de la Cerda, who had been raiding in English waters. Despite the Anglo-French truce, the Castilians had continued to raid and attack English shipping, and preparations had been made to counter their threat. Ships were requisitioned and fitted out for action at Sandwich, the commanders of which included the king himself, his eldest son, the duke of Lancaster and the earls of Northampton and Warwick. During the battle, the prince’s ship tried to ram another vessel, but was itself holed. The earl of Lancaster boarded the Prince’s intended target from the other side and pulled the prince and the young John of Gaunt, who was with him, to safety as their ship sank. Losses on both sides were very considerable and the Castilians were able to inflict great damage before they were boarded.60
In the main, however, these were relatively quiet years for the prince, spent at court and at his numerous residences in and around the capital. The most significant of these were Kennington, Wallingford and Berkhamsted, which was the favoured country retreat. The palace at Kennington, in Lambeth, was located across the river from Westminster and extensive work was undertaken there between 1342 and 1363. The property consisted of a hall standing on an undercroft alongside a large building called the Prince’s Chamber, which contained the main living apartments. There was also a separate kitchen. The prince’s mason, Nicholas Ailington, carried out early renovations and improvements. The garden walls were built by the celebrated architect, Henry Yevele, who entered the prince’s service in c.1356 and probably through this came to the king’s attention. He worked on the castles of Queenborough and Rochester as well as the Black Prince’s chantry in Canterbury Cathedral and the cloisters and south transept there, as well as the first cell and the cloister of the London Charterhouse. He also designed John of Gaunt’s chantry for Old St Paul’s and began the rebuilding of the nave of Westminster Abbey.61
‘Diplomacy’: Home and Abroad
The years from the Black Death until the prince’s first independent command in 1355 saw him increasingly involved in matters of state, and also witnessed the evolution of his household and administration. There is no evidence to show he was closely involved with the daily business of government, but he was present on a number of significant occasions in court and at parliament. His administration in Cornwall, and particularly in Chester and Wales, began to flex its muscles.
At the end of October 1354, the prince with other dignitaries including the earls of Warwick and Stafford, Bartholomew Burghersh, and John Beauchamp were present at Westminster when the king appointed Lancaster and Arundel as his ambassadors to the Avignon. They were sent to confirm the terms and stipulations that had been made with the French at Guînes. The most significant of these was that Edward III should have in perpetuity and in full and free sovereignty (as an alod) the duchy of Gascony, in recompense for the crown of France. In addition, he was to have the duchy of Normandy and the county of Ponthieu as well as Angers and Anjou, Poitiers and Poitou, Le Mans and Maine, Tours and Touraine, Angoulême and Angoumois, Cahors and Quercy, Limoges and Limousin, and all the other lands, castles and towns acquired in the course of the war. Edward also made it clear that he expected to take possession of any additional lands if they should be found to have been, at any time, part of the demesne of the kings of England. The ambassadors were to complete the process by 1 April.
In the event, the treaty of Guînes was a failure and the unwillingness of the French to ratify its terms provided the springboard for the prince’s grande chevauchée and the blueprint for subsequent negotiations and agreements, namely the putative treaties of London (1358/9) and Brétigny-Calais (1360).62
Far from the capital, the Janus-faced character of the prince’s administration was becoming apparent. In Cornwall and elsewhere, very considerable steps were taken to alleviate the worst financial consequences of the plague. However, in Cheshire and Wales the vicarious presence of a prince eager to assert his authority and increase his demesne income brought him into conflict with his tenants and his neighbours.
In 1353, Cheshire was marked by crime and disorder, which encouraged one of the prince’s two visits to the earldom. The administration of the palatinate was the responsibility of the justiciar and chamberlain of Chester, at this time offices held by Roger Hopwell (after the death of Sir Thomas Ferrers on or about 10 August) and John Brunham, junior, respectively. The prince’s visit was not occasioned by a rebellion but was ‘in response to the express grievances of many of the people of Cheshire’. A general eyre was held to enquire into a wide range of crimes and abuses, and a fine of 5,000 marks payable over four years was agreed in return for the prince suspending the action for thirty years. However, the prince’s justices did hold a great many sessions of trailbaston, probably in excess of 130 cases in about three weeks. Alongside these judicial investigations, there was a major overhaul of government in which the lieutenant-justiciar, the county sheriff, the constable of Chester castle and all the serjeants of the peace lost their offices. It was at this point that John Delves, one of the prince’s key officials, came to prominence as the new lieutenant-justice of north Wales and Chester. The 1353 episode was a serious attempt to quell disorder and raise revenue, and it reflected a serious breakdown in relations between the most powerful members of Cheshire society and those beneath them. It was not terribly effective and the prince and his council were called on to return in 1358. It was not a problem that was resolved and led to further problems during Richard II’s reign.63
Similarly in Wales, the government of the principality had become increasingly efficient throughout the prince’s tenure of office. The previous administration had been characterised by absenteeism, pluralism, extortion and economic decline. Changes throughout the mid-fourteenth century to increase revenue and the prince’s authority made the administration more productive and competent. These changes resulted in objections from the marcher lords who, as they had the pretensions of Edward I in the 1290s and the younger Despenser in the 1320s, now closed ranks against the Black Prince. Edward III took steps to separate the factions and made clear the division and independence of the Marches and the principality in the 1354 statute, which stated that Marcher lands were held directly of the king.64
The prince’s activities in the March have been held as indicative of his attitudes and actions elsewhere. His direct involvement is questionable and policy there may have been determined and implemented by his administrators. Certainly, the prince should be held accountable for the actions of those acting in his name, but it may not have been a policy which he was prosecuting deliberately. The relatively new presence of an active and undoubtedly forceful administration in Cheshire, Flintshire and Wales, where previously there had been something of a power vacuum, was bound to come into contact and conflict with a number of vested interests. That the prince might have handled a number of these incidents more diplomatically, for example concerning the lordship of Gower, is not in doubt, whether it can be directly attributable to his avarice and rapacity is more questionable. Nonetheless, given the political atmosphere which was created in the March, it might be said that the king was taking a chance when he gave his son his first independent command in an even more politically sensitive arena, the duchy of Gascony.