When the Governor of Calais related this to the people in the
Market-place, there was great weeping and distress; in the midst of
which, one worthy citizen, named Eustace de Saint Pierre, rose up
and said, that if the six men required were not sacrificed, the
whole population would be; therefore, he offered himself as the
first. Encouraged by this bright example, five other worthy
citizens rose up one after another, and offered themselves to save
the rest. The Governor, who was too badly wounded to be able to
walk, mounted a poor old horse that had not been eaten, and
conducted these good men to the gate, while all the people cried
and mourned.
Edward received them wrathfully, and ordered the heads of the whole
six to be struck off. However, the good Queen fell upon her knees,
and besought the King to give them up to her. The King replied, ‘I
wish you had been somewhere else; but I cannot refuse you.’ So she
had them properly dressed, made a feast for them, and sent them
back with a handsome present, to the great rejoicing of the whole
camp. I hope the people of Calais loved the daughter to whom she
gave birth soon afterwards, for her gentle mother’s sake.
Now came that terrible disease, the Plague, into Europe, hurrying
from the heart of China; and killed the wretched people –
especially the poor – in such enormous numbers, that one-half of
the inhabitants of England are related to have died of it. It
killed the cattle, in great numbers, too; and so few working men
remained alive, that there were not enough left to till the ground.
After eight years of differing and quarrelling, the Prince of Wales
again invaded France with an army of sixty thousand men. He went
through the south of the country, burning and plundering
wheresoever he went; while his father, who had still the Scottish
war upon his hands, did the like in Scotland, but was harassed and
worried in his retreat from that country by the Scottish men, who
repaid his cruelties with interest.
The French King, Philip, was now dead, and was succeeded by his son
John. The Black Prince, called by that name from the colour of the
armour he wore to set off his fair complexion, continuing to burn
and destroy in France, roused John into determined opposition; and
so cruel had the Black Prince been in his campaign, and so severely
had the French peasants suffered, that he could not find one who,
for love, or money, or the fear of death, would tell him what the
French King was doing, or where he was. Thus it happened that he
came upon the French King’s forces, all of a sudden, near the town
of Poitiers, and found that the whole neighbouring country was
occupied by a vast French army. ‘God help us!’ said the Black
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Prince, ‘we must make the best of it.’
So, on a Sunday morning, the eighteenth of September, the Prince
whose army was now reduced to ten thousand men in all – prepared to
give battle to the French King, who had sixty thousand horse alone.
While he was so engaged, there came riding from the French camp, a
Cardinal, who had persuaded John to let him offer terms, and try to
save the shedding of Christian blood. ‘Save my honour,’ said the
Prince to this good priest, ‘and save the honour of my army, and I
will make any reasonable terms.’ He offered to give up all the
towns, castles, and prisoners, he had taken, and to swear to make
no war in France for seven years; but, as John would hear of
nothing but his surrender, with a hundred of his chief knights, the
treaty was broken off, and the Prince said quietly – ‘God defend
the right; we shall fight to-morrow.’
Therefore, on the Monday morning, at break of day, the two armies
prepared for battle. The English were posted in a strong place,
which could only be approached by one narrow lane, skirted by
hedges on both sides. The French attacked them by this lane; but