7

The Reconquest of Aquitaine (1368–71)

In 1368, the prince’s reputation was at its height, confirmed militarily by Nájera and founded on a glorious principality in Gascony alongside his English demesne. It was also founded on the close circles of the military retinue, the knights of the prince’s household and the administrators that governed his estates.¹ The Black Prince’s retinue grew with his appointment as earl of Chester, duke of Cornwall and prince of Wales. It was tempered in the Crécy campaign and came into its own ten years later at the battle of Poitiers. It was, without doubt, one of the most significant groups in late medieval England and included some of the most fêted individuals from the years that marked the high point of England’s European reputation.

Men were drawn to the prince’s service because of the potential financial rewards and his growing military reputation. Furthermore, he was the heir apparent and, as such, his influence at court was considerable and could be used to bring his servants and retainers to the attention of that greatest of patrons, the king, an office and dignity which would, in time, be held by Edward of Woodstock. This not only made the Black Prince an attractive employer but it dictated the make-up of his retinue and was evident in the manner by which he recruited and rewarded its members.

The nature of the prince’s demesne also influenced the complement of his retinue. Wales, Cheshire and Cornwall were not areas rich in highly influential members of the aristocracy who could bring their own followings within a greater affinity. Therefore, although the prince did recruit heavily within his own demesne, the retinue was by no means exclusively made up of those from the west. Rather men were drawn to his service from throughout the country, and perhaps surprisingly, a significant number of prominent individuals came from or had close connections in East Anglia, particularly Norfolk. The prince’s only tenurial interests in the county were at Castle Rising and he also had rights to the tollbooth at Lynn. The region certainly did not have the martial, indeed the aggressive, reputation of Cheshire or Wales but it was there that the Black Prince found some of his most loyal and militarily active servants.²

War was the primary purpose of the retinue and the strategic and tactical manner in which it operated in the field was critical to the prince’s military success. The prince benefited from the inclusion in his retinue of a number of skilled and experienced soldiers as well as others who were involved in his expeditions or assigned to him by the king. The 1355–6 campaigns provide the best example of the operation of the command ranks in the field. James Audley, Chandos, Baldwin Botetourt and, occasionally, Bartholomew Burghersh ‘were the prince’s handy men for field work, Richard Stafford was assigned to special tasks … Wingfield … [was] … “head of the office” and that these men who [knew] one another [well], formed a group bound by friendly relations to one another and by common loyalty to their chief; they were part of the “permanent staff ‘’.’³

Such men as these were at the heart of the prince’s armies and the divisions he led in the royal campaigns of 1346 and 1359–60. Their importance, strategically and tactically, was emphasised on numerous occasions. This is particularly evident in thechevauchéesof 1355–6 and at Poitiers where the earl of Warwick and Reginald Cobham led the vanguard with John Beauchamp, Roger Clifford and Thomas Hampton, the standard-bearer. The main body was under the command of the prince with Oxford, Burghersh, Willoughby d’Eresby, Roger de la Warre, Maurice Berkeley, John Bourchier, the captal de Buch, the sire de Caumont, Montferrand and Thomas Roos, mayor of Bordeaux. The rearguard was commanded by Suffolk and Salisbury with Guillaume de Pommiers.⁴When Armagnac’s army came within nine miles of the English rearguard near Carbonne the prince wrote

At this we marched towards them, sending on Bartholomew Burghersh, John Chandos, James Audley, Baldwin Botetourt and Thomas Felton and others … to get definite information about the enemy. They rode on towards the enemy until they came to a town where they found two hundred of the latter’s men at arms, with whom they fought and captured thirty-five of them. This made the enemy retreat in great fear.⁵

All apart from Audley held posts in the household or administration in addition to their military offices and he later held office in Aquitaine. The retinue was thus composed of individuals with vested interests in the prince’s success in a number of areas, and were similarly driven by the need to finance the campaigns. What has been said of the victory at Poitiers can be said of the prince’s military career in its entirety and the reverse may be said of certain aspects of his political and diplomatic style: ‘[a]t the core of the English success was the good working relationship between the prince, his chief officers and their men, a relationship which … evolved during the … weeks of campaigning, but which hinged on the presence around the prince of a group of tried and trusted knights. To them, as a group, belongs credit for the victory; to the prince belongs credit as primus inter pares.’⁶

The purpose of the prince’s retinue was primarily military. It goes without saying that an army was expensive, that it needed supplies, food, horses, arms, armour and, during this period of increasing professionalism, it needed to be paid. The prince was supported in all his campaigns except the Spanish expedition by the royal exchequer, but a very considerable bill still had to be met from his own resources. Thus, his estates, rights and other sources of income needed to be exploited, collected and maximized. Such duties were also the tasks of the retinue. Household and administrative offices throughout the prince’s extensive demesnes provided additional employment for many members of the prince’s retinue. In some cases, such as John Chandos’ appointment as master-forester of Cheshire, the posts were simply sinecures to reward past and future military service, but others undertook important duties, which directly or indirectly sustained military operations and the grandeur of the prince’s household. Their efforts were not always adequate and this became particularly apparent in 1359 when, despite the ransoms and booty taken at Poitiers, in preparation for the Reims campaign, Edward had to take out loans of at least £21,350. His creditors included Richard FitzAlan, earl of Arundel,⁷ the Malabayala family,⁸ assorted members of the lay and episcopal aristocracy⁹ and members of the London merchant community.¹⁰ Of this sum, Sir John Wingfield, governor of the prince’s business, negotiated a loan of 20,000 marks.¹¹ As a consequence violence or the capacity for violence – perhaps more correctly the prowess of the knight, the skill at arms of the infantryman or archer – was not the only criterion by which the prince recruited. Wingfield, for example, was a knight who fought with the prince in 1355 and at Poitiers, but his value was far greater as an administrator and financier than in the front line.

Certain members of the retinue also played a role on the domestic political stage. A survey of parliamentary members in the retinue throughout the prince’s adult life reveals 36 or 37 individuals who sat in the Commons of which three represented two different constituencies. This is a very considerable number but does not necessarily indicate that there was a deliberate ‘Westminster’ policy.¹² The presence of individuals in the Commons may not have been the consequence of a calculated strategy. The prince recruited widely and among men of high calibre, it is no surprise that a number of these sat in parliament. In accordance with the extended geographical character of the retinue, the prince retained or had links to men who sat in constituencies throughout the country. He does not appear to have ‘swamped’ any particular regions with his familiars, although Norfolk, Herefordshire and Cornwall tended to return members who can be associated with the prince on a fairly regular basis. The majority, although by no means all the appointments were dated to the last decade of the prince’s life. This may indicate an increasing interest in domestic politics but there is little evidence to corroborate this. More probably, these years marked a period in which the members in question were older, more respected in county society, less militarily active and thus more likely to take up seats in the Commons.

The means of recruitment to the prince’s retinue are something of a ‘grey area’. It is uncertain how or if individuals were approached or if they directly sought the prince’s patronage. It can be supposed that ‘word of mouth’, local influence, family ties, nepotism and military and administrative experience all had a part to play. The prince’s retinue formed something of a core and model among the great bastard feudal associations of the day and the opportunities for overlapping military and administrative service among the great affinities and retinues of the day were very great. The inter-relation of the royal households of Edward III and Richard II, the Lancastrian affinity of both Grosmont and Gaunt, and the Black Prince’s retinue shows the fluidity of service between these institutions. This is in no way surprising, especially if the prince is viewed as the future Edward IV and his retinue as the king’s household in waiting. It must be remembered that the knightly community was small and closely connected on a number of levels and through a variety of vertical and horizontal associations.

As there were only four major campaigns to speak of in twenty-one years, the role of the retinue was governed by extended periods of peace and truce even as it was shaped by the hostilities. In the ‘close season’, some of the retinue fought elsewhere, with Chandos and the captal de Buch in Brittany, some with du Guesclin in Spain. Others sat on commissions of array, of oyer and terminer, as members of Parliament, and as such, they cared for their master’s interests and those of fellow members of his retinue. Others saw diplomatic service further abroad. Political, household, diplomatic and military service in the retinue of Edward the Black Prince were within the broad range of national policy and also reflected trends and practices evident among other contemporary ‘bastard feudal’ associations. However, the retinue itself was different, being in some aspects anachronistic, particularly in its structure, and yet in other ways, highly innovative. It combined facets of innovative bastard feudal practices by its ‘artificiality’, its distance from its tenurial roots, with the practices and traditions of earlier times.¹³

While the ‘synthetic’ nature of the retinue contributed to its success, the same could not be said of the principality of Aquitaine – an almost fictional political entity. A typical account of the failure of the principality attributes it to the poor relations between the prince and his nobles, the financial exactions demanded of them and their vassals and the arrogance displayed by the English officials who governed as if they were in occupied territory. But of course they were, and for the most part this was not a Gascon revolt but an Aquitainian one.

The economic foundations of the principality of Aquitaine had always been, at best, shaky. The years in which Gascon revenues were accounted as being as valuable if not more so than all English Crown lands were long gone. The principal wealth of the duchy was based on viticulture and by the 1360s wine exports were at less than half pre-war levels. Furthermore, and somewhat ironically, peace may not have been a beneficial economic state. The ‘war dividend’ had taken a number of forms. First, the spoils of war had been considerable, certainly for a number of Gascon captains who in their turn contributed a considerable, if unquantifiable, amount to the local Gascon economy. Secondly, the duchy had been and remained the focus of the quarrel that led to the outbreak of the Hundred Years War, and the consequent military activity had encouraged a variety of ‘secondary industries’ to develop in support of the war effort. These included the Bordeaux armourers, the iron-founders of Bayonne and the financiers that dealt in loot and ransoms. For those involved in such activities, the end of hostilities brought limited benefits.

Alongside the economic decline of the duchy, the new principality could not depend on support from the Crown. After a large subsidy prior to Edward’s departure for the principality, there were no payments to the Gascon exchequer until the reopening of hostilities. The principality was to be self-sufficient, but the effects of war, plague and administrative confusion during the period of the handover meant that the estimated value, could never be realised. The Grand Custom (grande coutume) on wine, traditionally the major source of revenue, was at a low point and the governmental ‘perks’ of war, in terms of confiscations of land and property from ‘traitors’ and the defeated, that had previously covered the shortfall were no longer available. In addition, expenditure, with the arrival of the prince, ballooned.

Sumption estimates that the prince’s household expenditure averaged about £10,000 per annum.¹⁴ It is difficult to be certain about this due to the nature of the composite account enrolled by Richard Fillongley in 1370–1, the only evidence for principality finances. Fillongley’s account notes the prince’s household expenses during the time of office of Hugh Berton and Alan Stokes (treasurers of the wardrobe) as being 211,773 l.g. (approx. £41,800) which was nearly half the income of the principality (445,849l.g., approx. £88,070).

On this basis the prince’s household expenses were generally in line with those expected of a great magnate, about half his annual income. However, the figures recorded in Fillongley’s account only deal with the period of Berton’s and Stokes’ treasurerships (at most from c.1359–c.1365). If the account deals with a period of approximately five years, then average annual household expenditure in Bordeaux was nearly £8,400 but judging by the tenure of the treasurers, it seems that the prince was only resident in Aquitaine for two of them. Details are not included of the treasurership of John Carleton, from c.1365. Fillongley’s figures only allow him about £8,000 before going into ‘the red’, less than one year’s expenditure at average levels over the last five years. There can be little doubt that this average was much lower than the true amount the prince spent and that Carleton had to fund annual expenditure on the court at a much higher level. It is possible, although unlikely that the account only covers the period from c.1363–6 and consequently annual household expenditure could have been somewhere in the region of £20,000.¹⁵

The reason (or excuse) for the rebellion that was to lead to the resumption of the war and the collapse of the principality was taxation, specifically the fouage levied in 1368. Taxation had always been a thorny problem in Gascony; even in the 1340s, the English had never been able to institute a regular system. However, the hearth tax was by no means a new imposition in southern France and had been exacted by Armagnac as lieutenant of Languedoc on a number of occasions and often at a higher rate. Additional taxes were also demanded for the ransom of King Jean after Poitiers as well as the gabelle, the salt tax.¹⁶ Under the prince’s regime direct taxation accounted for 36 per cent of income and, until 1368, it generated comparatively little opposition. In June 1364, the prince had levied a fouage, with the approval of the Estates of Aquitaine as a rate of 3s. 4d. In September of the following year it was again imposed, at half that rate (1s. 10d.). Following the (financial) debacle of the Nájera campaign, the Estates voted for an annual tax of 2s. for an indeterminate period in return for certain concessions.¹⁷ The nominal yield on a 2s. tax was £5,400. Pedro’s recalculated debt to the prince was about £385,000 (2,720,000 florins) which would require this level of imposition to continue for something over 71 years if that was the only outlet for the taxation. Froissart attributed the plan to John Harewell, chancellor of Aquitaine.¹⁸

It is, of course, arguable that Gascony let alone the greater Aquitaine, could not be governed by a resident English lord; examples abound of the failure of such schemes but the situation in the principality in the 1360s went beyond previous experience and was exacerbated by social, cultural and political traditions. For example, the traditional seigneurial right to make private war was tenaciously upheld throughout Languedoc and the Valois kings had had little success in curbing such instincts. The main example of such strife was the Foix-Armagnac feud. The authority and territorial holdings of these protagonists were such that a network of alliances had developed, subsuming many other issues within that struggle. In 1362, at the battle of Launac, Gaston Fébus, count of Foix, defeated the Armagnac faction, which included the Albret family. The enormous ransoms that were demanded may well have encouraged the appeal to Charles V beccause of the financial benefits which Valois loyalty would bring.¹⁹ Armagnac’s ransom after Launac was about £42,500. Seeking allies and stability and showing some rare diplomatic instincts, the prince had assisted with payments. As a result, prior to the Spanish campaign, Armagnac owed Edward £8,300. However, Pedro’s failure to fund that expedition left the prince indebted to the count for war wages amounting to about £28,300. With the loan repaid several times over, Armagnac had freed himself from his difficult obligation and could return to his natural allegiance. Albret, who had also suffered financially in the expedition across the Pyrenees, also appealed to Paris, and like Armagnac was suitably remunerated for his change of heart. He was granted a pension of 10,000 l. by Charles V and marriage to the king’s sister.²⁰

The ‘Gascon’ revolt has also been attributed to the nature of the prince’s administration and his personal relations with the Aquitainian nobility. Certainly, this reason has often been highlighted as among the main causes of the collapse of the Brétigny agreement. It should be noted however, that much unrest had probably been fomented in secret by Charles V and Louis of Anjou. In this matter the issue of the prince’s personal style of rule is crucial.

Chapter 17 of Machiavelli’s Prince asks if ‘it is better for a prince to be loved or feared’. The resolution of the argument is that since love is out of a prince’s control, and fear is something he can instil, the latter is the preferable option for governing effectively. The story in the Anonimalle Chronicle of the prince forcing some of his nobles to wait on their knees perhaps for hours before addressing him also puts one in mind of a later incident. Queen Elizabeth I was arguing with Lord Burghley. Burghley by this time was an old man; he was also a subject and thus required to remain on his knees when addressing the queen. Commentators at the time were startled by the queen’s kindness when she called, not for Burghley to rise, but for a cushion for his knees. The comparison has often also been drawn with Richard’s court which will be discussed further below. Clearly the situations are not directly comparable and concepts of kingship (and queenship) had developed and nor, clearly, was the Black Prince a king, but nor was it necessarily something very far out of the ordinary; what was different were the cultural and political forces at work in Aquitaine.²¹

It has been strongly argued that the ‘anglicising’ of the Gascon/Aquitainian administration was another key element that caused the discontent that erupted in 1368. The choice of officials was often governed by political motivations and most of the new seneschals were English, often military men such as William Felton, seneschal of Poitou, and Richard Totesham, seneschal of Angoumois and governor of La Rochelle.²² Nonetheless, some effort was made to offset such appointments and there may have been a programme of establishing concentrations of politically supportive families in various towns and cities.²³ In an attempt to win over the port of La Rochelle, Edward III chose several of the chief officials of Saintonge from among the municipal elite. William Seris was appointed president of the sovereign court, to hear appeals from Saintonge.²⁴ He also became governor of Benon. However, he returned to the French fold in 1369 and Charles V rewarded him with the office of president of the Parlement of Paris.²⁵ By contrast, the Poitevin, Guichard d’Angle, King Jean’s seneschal of Saintonge, was retained in office and gave his full allegiance to England. He became the master of Richard II’s household and was rewarded with the earldom of Huntingdon.

A comparison with another area where the prince also experienced difficulties in dealing with his nobles, the March of Wales, may be useful. There it was believed most constructive to affect ‘a surrender of power into the hands of those who were already the economic and social leaders of the community’. The English did not have any form of traditional power base in much of the new principality and despite their efforts they failed to create one.

Similarly in Wales, while the Black Prince employed Welsh officials particularly for raising revenue, the key posts went to Englishmen with the result that ‘The feeling that they were “outsiders” in the governance of their own country was not an insignificant cause of disaffection on the part of Welshmen … it almost certainly played a prominent role in the build-up to the Glyn Dwr revolt.’²⁶ This should not only been viewed in ethnic and racial terms, however, as exploitation of the Welsh by Welshmen was certainly not unknown. For example, Rhys ap Roppert, who was descended from Ednyfed Fychan, the great minister of Llewellyn ap Iorweth, prince of Gwynedd, served as escheator of Caernarvon and Merioneth from 12 December 1347 and leased the offices of sheriff andraglot of Flint for two years from 3 December 1353. He was an extremely repressive official and exploited his position for his own benefit; it is unlikely that he brought much profit to the Black Prince. His sons, Ieuan and Magod, fought with the Welshcondotierre, Owain Lawgoch, on the side of the French and Rhys was accused of sending money to them.²⁷ However, despite the similarities between Wales and Aquitaine, the governmental procedures enforced by the new regime in the greater Gascony compared closely to those previously employed by Jean II. French administrative practices (if not personnel) were maintained in the newly acquired seneschausées although most of the new seneschals were English.

The period of the principality was a time of constant political reassessment, a process that continued in the 1370s. Loyalties were elastic and transitory, a state conditioned by both culture and politics. It is brought sharply into focus in the role of the Great Companies and individuals therein. For example, it is particularly interesting that in the interval between the battle of Launac (1362) and the peace settlement, that the Armagnac faction recruited members of the Companies led by John Amory and John Creswell, both close associates of the Black Prince. Amory, in the way of such things, had fought with Gaston Fébus against Jean d’Armagnac at Launac. Elsewhere there were links to Navarre that give the lie to the suggestion that this was a period of peace. The captal de Buch and Chandos, as constable of Aquitaine and more particularly as lord of Saint-Sauveur, were to lead twin forces against King Jean although in the event, matters changed and the Navarrese were defeated at Cocherel. The clearest example of such flexibility with regard to service was in the Spanish campaigns: du Guesclin’s so-called crusade which toppled Pedro the Cruel from the throne of Castile and the Nájera expedition led by the Black Prince that replaced him albeit briefly. Among du Guesclin’s commanders were Hugh Calveley, Mathew Gournay, Walter Hewitt, John Devereux and Stephen Cosington, all of whom then fought with the prince to reinstate the monarch they had so recently deposed. With regard to the Companies and the prince’s regime, it should be remembered that during the bulk of the lifetime of the principality, Aquitaine enjoyed a far more peaceful time than the rest of France. It did not suffer the depredations of the condottieri until very late in the day. Indeed, it might be argued that the tide turned against the Black Prince and the English, when they could no longer depend on the support of the Great Companies.²⁸

If the prince was more or less responsible for the conditions that led to the loss of the principality, he was entirely responsible for the chief instrument that confirmed (if not precipitated) that loss. The ransoming of Bertrand du Guesclin after his capture at Nájera was certainly ‘crass stupidity’.²⁹ After once again securing the Castilian throne for Enrique in 1369, he returned to France, was appointed Constable, and fought against his former captor in Aquitaine from July 1370. He took advantage of, and brought about, military advances in tactics and recruitment which resulted in a great upturn in French fortunes.

The rebellion that allowed the participation of du Guesclin was not spontaneous, not in the cases of Armagnac and Albret, and certainly not for those that followed in returning to French royal allegiance. The count of Périgord waited some time to see ‘how the wind was blowing’ despite being offered 40,000 francs by Charles V. However, once momentum was gathered fresh appellants appeared in the hundreds, mainly from the regions in Aquitaine bordering ‘France’. Motivation varied, patriotic sentiment certainly played a part, various long-standing disputes with the prince or his officials including questions of failed litigation over land following the transfer of territory after 1360 were also a cause for rebellion. Bribes were offered to others such as the viscount of Castelbon. In most cases the fouage was only an excuse although it may have been symbolic of other grievances.³⁰

The prince may well have been aware of the worsening political climate and took suitable precautions; there were considerable movements of troops from England to Gascony in the later months of 1367. Such stalwarts as Duncan Felton, John Thurston (Chandos’ yeoman), James Audley (possibly not Chandos’ companion-in-arms since he was described at this time as the prince’s esquire), Robert Morley, John Harpeley, John del Hay, and Aubrey Vere (the future earl of Oxford), together with reinforcements, set sail for the principality or received letters of protection and other documentation regarding their service there. Measures were also taken in England and Wales for the defence of the realm.³¹

On 22 December 1368, the duke of Anjou wrote to the nobility of Aquitaine regarding the incipient return of hostilities and commenting on the prince’s rule. He spoke of the ‘ordonnaces, indictions et exactions de fouages et autres griefs et nouveletés à eux faites par nostre cousin le prince de Galles, duc de Guyienne et autres seneschaux et officiers de dits pais pour luy’. Phrases such as ‘droit, raison [et] justice’ were interspersed with economic arguments and emotional and nationalistic appeals regarding ‘grant amour et loyauté envers eux aux preddecesseurs de mondit seigneur, roys de France’.³² It appears to have been very effective. In January 1369, the prince was summoned to Paris to answer the appeals. He refused, although Froissart and Chandos Herald claimed he did offer to visit the capital in the company of an army. Further reinforcements were dispatched from England adding to those the prince had been raising since his return from Spain.³³ They mustered at Northampton in the winter of 1368/9. John Montviron, the prince’s marshal of the household, oversaw the arrays in north Wales, which were co-ordinated by the justice and chamberlain.³⁴ Others were recruited from Cheshire, the array probably being organised with the assistance of Thomas Wetenhale, seneschal of the Rouergue. The Northampton muster gathered in September 1368 and included 369 men-at-arms and 428 archers; it did not arrive in Aquitaine until April of the following year. Many of them served with Audley and Chandos in Poitou and Saintonge.³⁵Further reinforcements were sent in 1369, including retinues under the command of Gaunt and Walter Hewitt.³⁶

The erosion of the principality began in the Rouergue. Najac was the first town to renounce its fealty to the prince on the appearance of forces commanded by Louis of Anjou.³⁷ This may have taken place even before the proclamation of the count of Armagnac, issued at Rodez on 22 February 1369. Intermittent fighting began in the district (a major area of support of the count of Armagnac) in the spring. On about 9 January, the count’s son (also Jean) took the castle of La Roque-Valsergue and used it for a base for further incursions into the Rouergue. The defence of the province, organised by Thomas Wettenhale (seneschal), David Cradock (his deputy) and James Mascy (castellan of Millau), was hampered by a lack of troops and these three retreated to fortresses at Villefranche, Castelmary and Millau respectively. The revolt quickly spread; by 18 March over 900 castles and towns in Armagnac, Rodez (the town had opened its gates to the invaders on about 19 February), Limoges, Quercy and the Agenais had deserted the prince. Further noble support had also been lost, including the vicomte de Rochechouart and the lords of Chauvigny and Pons although loyalty to the English proved to be stronger in the north.³⁸

This was not purely a rebellion, Valois support for the rebels was conspicuous; the French force was estimated to be around 4,000 strong and commanded by Raymond de Rabastens, seneschal of Toulouse, acting in the name of King Charles V, whose claim to the lands of the principality he vigorously and vociferously upheld. He was supported by Jean d’Armagnac.³⁹ Such hostile action demanded that all available English resources be diverted to the principality. Possibly as a result of the prince’s failing health, Chandos was recalled from retirement at Saint-Sauveur in Normandy, Knolles was brought in from Brittany, and Calveley from Spain. Armagnac’s lands became a base for launching attacks and were also the focus of English retaliation. Chandos tried to draw the French away to Toulouse and Albi and then north to Quercy. Further English reinforcements arrived throughout 1369, most notably the forces led by the earls of Cambridge and Pembroke. They linked with Chandos after failing to hold Périgord and captured La Roche-sur-Yon.James Audley, one of the mainstays of the English resistance, died during the siege. On 30 November 1369, Charles formally announced what he was actively acquiring the confiscation of Aquitaine and it was once again a time of war.⁴⁰

By the end of 1369, Rouergue, Quercy and the Agenais had been lost and Bigorre and Comminges were unlikely to remain loyal for long. Partly due to the incapacity of the prince and the loss of a number of the commanders that had assured his earlier triumphs, such as Audley, a lack of co-ordination marked the English defence. The earl of Pembroke refused to follow Chandos’ command since he was ‘only’ a banneret and when Sir John died after a skirmish at Lussac on 2 January 1370, the collapse was hastened, further encouraged by the loss of the earls of Warwick and Suffolk. The prince’s own health had deteriorated steadily since his return from Castile and he was by now virtually incapable of leading troops. By the end of 1369 the French had reached Bazas. In the Rouergue, Thomas Wetenhale was killed, and Bigorre had also fallen to the duke of Anjou. With the help of du Guesclin, Moissac and Agen were taken. In 1370, the attack turned towards the centre of English rule, Bordeaux.⁴¹

Walter Hewitt was dispatched from England with a retinue of 200 men-at-arms and 300 archers. Robert Knolles led a chevauchée from Calais; it was a retaliatory action following a co-ordinated attack led by the dukes of Berri and Anjou and the count of Armagnac, which may have been aimed at the prince himself, bedridden in Angoulême. Lancaster and Warwick tried to reconquer Ponthieu but failed to bring the French to battle. Warwick died of plague on the march. Louis of Anjou retook Porte-Saine-Marie, Montpezat, Tonneins and Aiguillon. In the Agenais, he took Villeneuve, Astafford and La Sauvetat. On 8 August, he was at Agen. Armagnac entered Bigorre on 1 September and took Tarbes.⁴²

The speed with which the principality fell was startling and shaming and may explain the reaction of the prince and his commanders to the desertion of Limoges. The surrender of the town, commanded by Jean de Vinemur to the duke of Berri, resulted in the prince, accompanied by Lancaster, Cambridge and the captal de Buch, laying siege on 19 September 1370. At the time, the prince’s headquarters were at Cognac. His forces numbered about 1,200 men-at-arms, 1,000 archers and 1,000 foot soldiers. The siege was brief, lasting only six days. The walls were mined and Froissart suggested that 3,000 were killed in the ensuing massacre. The order to respect all churches in the city seems to have been generally observed although there was damage to the cathedral. However, it is entirely possible that the massacre of civilians never took place, at least not on the scale that has been popularised. The event is not attested in any local chronicles and the extent of that retribution is questionable as is the culpability of the Black Prince. That military action took place and the city was sacked is not in doubt, but the scale of the slaughter may have been much exaggerated and it has been suggested that only 300 died. As for personal responsibility, at Limoges the prince is said to have directed operations from a litter and may only have been in nominal command. Under the strictures of the laws of war, the actions said by Froissart to have taken place at Limoges were entirely justifiable and it may be that ‘What Froissart is depicting is theexpected behaviour of a successful army after a siege; he does not deny the Black Prince’s right to carry out such deeds when he suggests that mercy would have been well-placed.’⁴³

Nonetheless, it was certainly brutal but ‘If one condemns the Black Prince, then one condemns virtually all medieval siege commanders.’⁴⁴ That Froissart saw fit to indict the prince for his actions at Limoges whilst lauding the slaughter and destruction of the 1355 chevauchée was a consequence of the author’s condition and circumstances at the time of writing rather than great moral indignation. A French chronicle records that the English ‘put many of the citizens to death because they had turned French’.⁴⁵Attitudes to noncombatants were changing and affected by a variety of influences. In practical terms, the attitudes of besieging commanders had been altered by improvements to urban defences. As the 1346–7 siege of Calais demonstrated, it was a long and very expensive business to reduce the walls of a strongly fortified town and extreme penalties were imposed to discourage resistance. According to Honoré Bouvet no besieged city or fortress could make a truce or treaty to save itself from the consequences of an assault after its walls had been breached. If the inhabitants failed to make terms, they were at the besiegers’ mercy. Attitudes to treason had also changed, at least in England by the 1352 Act and similar developments took place in France. One of the first examples of the use of quartering as a punishment took place in 1346 when a poor unfortunate named Simon Pouillet murmured too loudly that Edward III should be king rather than Philip of Valois. ‘Like a slab of meat in a butcher’s shop [he was] stretched and bound on a slab of wood … and was there beheaded and dismembered, first his arms, then his legs, and then his head; and finally [his corpse] was hanged on the gibbet.’⁴⁶ It is not unlikely that the English considered the people of Limoges to have committed treason. In such a circumstance retribution was expected, even required.

The Hundred Years War is remembered for its battles but was characterised by its sieges. The chevauchée tactics, so successful in bringing the French to battle at Crécy and Poitiers and of great psychological and economic value, relied on a swiftly-moving mounted force which was not prepared for a siege. Such an army could not transport all the necessary equipment and sieges were lengthy and expensive. The assault on Romorantin in 1355 was a rare example of a successful quick assault that delayed a raid by only a few days. In the engagement, surrender was encouraged by the use of Greek Fire, which served to ignite thatched roofs and other flammables. The foundations may also have been mined. By contrast, the defences at Tours, still under construction in 1356, probably deterred the Black Prince from attacking. Control of territory depended on control of the major urban areas. In the main, before the wide-scale use of artillery, defensive architecture was superior to offensive weaponry and tactics; the siege of Calais had been a triumph of endurance, not ingenuity or superior military technology.⁴⁷

While the prince was actively attacking French strongholds he was also concerned with the defence of his own lands and their centres of defence, government and administration. Anglo-Welsh defensive measures were features of all periods of military activity, and Cheshire and north Wales in 1355 and 1359–60 were protected against possible invasions or Welsh revolts. Repairs were made to the castles in Wales, Cornwall and Cheshire, supplies were gathered and their garrisons strengthened ‘in view of the multitude of perils which might arise’.⁴⁸ For example, at this time, John Wogan was charged with the defence of the Welsh coast and a writ was sent to the prince by his father and passed on to officials in north and south Wales ordering defensive preparations in accordance with the Statute of Winchester (1285).⁴⁹ In the course of the Reims campaign, responsibility for the ‘safe-keeping’ of the castles in Cornwall and Devon was left in the hands of John Dabernon and John Kendale. In this instance, particular attention was to be given to the castle at Tintagel, which, at the time, was without a garrison. John Skirbeck, formerly butler of the prince’s household and constable of Launceston and Tintagel castles, then keeper of the prince’s fees in Cornwall, was to make similar preparations for the manning and victualling of Launceston. The maintenance of castle defences was a continual drain on the prince’s purse. In February 1360, repairs were ordered to the Cornish castles, again under the supervision of Kendale and Dabernon.⁵⁰Additional security was also required at Berkhamsted castle where the captured king of France was kept, although it appears that John Clay, the prince’s receiver of Berkhamsted, handed over the buildings (and responsibility) for Jean’s safe-keeping to his jailers.⁵¹ Measures were also taken at that time at Wallingford and at Castle Rising, both for the building and the bridge so that it was ‘safely guarded in these times so that no peril [would] befall it’.⁵² Such measures were entirely in keeping with national procedure. In July 1355, all the port authorities from Dover to Fowey had been ordered to protect their shipping and make defensive preparations. The fears of an attack were realised in 1360 with the French raid on Winchelsea. The potential resumption of hostilities further galvanised defensive preparations. In 1367, Richard FitzAlan, earl of Arundel and lord of Bromfield and Yale, was commanded to prepare ‘all fencible men’ to defend the principality of Wales.⁵³

Urban defences also contributed to the difficulties involved in governing Aquitaine and they were to facilitate its destruction. The principality contained a multiplicity of fortified locations. These reflected and added to the problems of feuding, particularly between the families of Foix and Armagnac. The possession of a number of these strongholds gave command of communications and supply routes, either by road or water.⁵⁴ When these sites turned to Valois allegiance there was little that could be done to retake them or maintain the integrity of the principality.

However, the importance of urban defences, the time it might take to break them and the general role of the fortified town or castle, was in the course of widespread revision at this time. There is no doubt that artillery was used and increasingly so by the prince throughout his career. By 1369, Chandos’ troops were always accompanied by a cannon and this was not an entirely new innovation. Cannon had been used during the campaign of 1346 and at Crécy as field artillery. At that time, the guns used ‘were simple light weapons, almost as dangerous to those firing them as to those at whom they were fired’.⁵⁵ They were certainly used during the Calais siege as supplies of ammunition and firearms were sent for from England. In 1346–7 Edward III had at least ten cannons and materials for over 5,000 lbs of gunpowder but they do not appear to have been highly influential in taking the town. By 1370, many towns and almost all the great powers in Western Europe came to possess their own arsenals. The receiver of Ponthieu in 1368–9 purchased for Edward III: 20 copper cannons, 5 iron cannons, 215 lbs of saltpetre, sulphur and amber for making powder, and 1,300 large quarrels/bolts for the cannons. Nonetheless, the key period of innovation in gunnery happened in the second and third decades of the fifteenth century. For much of the fourteenth century guns did not replace the trebuchet or mangonel as siege weapons, and on the battlefield they did not influence tactical thinking to any great extent. They were used primarily for frightening horses.⁵⁶

The Limoges expedition, in which he was present if not prominent, brought about a further deterioration in the prince’s condition. The collapse of his health and authority was marked by the transfer of authority in the principality to Gaunt. La Roche-sur-Yon and the lordship of Bergerac passed to him on 8 October 1370, prior to his appointment as lieutenant of Aquitaine on 11 October 1370.⁵⁷ As a final blow the death of his first son, Edward of Angoulême, underlined the prince’s personal tragedy. He returned to England and, alongside Gaunt, the captal de Buch and Thomas Felton took over the government of Gascony in July 1371. Soon after, Owain Lawgoch, the Welsh condottiere allied to France, captured the captal at Soubise. It is said that he was tempted briefly to give his allegiance to France but remained loyal and unlike the Black Prince and du Guesclin, Charles ‘the Wise’ refused to ransom him and he ended his days in prison, soon after hearing the news of the death of the Black Prince.