THE CHRONICLES OF FROISSART.* THE thanks of the reading public

are due to Messrs. Macmillan for providing them with a cheap, handy, and readable edition of The Chronicles of Froissart. In the volume before us we get the essential part of Froissart. It is true that a large amount of matter has been left out for reasons of space, but since a summary is provided of the sup- pressed chapters, and since the general reader would have skipped largely in any case, we see no reason to complain. We yield to no man in our delight in Froissart, but since we could not have had him in the Globe Edition if we insisted on him whole, we are very glad to have so large a slice. Half the Chronicles (and in reality we get more) is better than no

• (1.) The Chronicles of Froissart. Translated by John Bonrchier, Lord Berners. Edited by G C. Macaulay. Globe Edition. London: Macmillan and Co. 1895, —(2.) Passages j ram Froissart. With an Introduction by Frank T. Marzials. London : Walter Elcott.—(1.) Lan gland's Vision of Piers the Plowman. An English Poem of the Fourteenth Century done into Et darn Prose, with an Introduction, by Kate K. Warren London : T. Fisher Unwin. 1895.

Froissart. The editing of the present edition is well done, and we have no complaint to make except that the print is too small. But even that is not a fair complaint, because if it had been bigger we should have had still less of our knightly author. Those who cannot afford either time or money for so big a book as the Globe Edition will find in the Scott Library Passages from, Froissart a pleasant glimpse into the Chronicles. The work of selection is well done, and the introduction is excellent. It is a pity, however, that Mr.

Marzials has relied upon Jones's translation instead of that of Lord Berners.

There are four good reasons why Englishmen should read Froissart's book. In the first place, it furnishes the most authentic account of our early military exploits by sea and land, and tells the tale of the Black Prince and of the knights who followed him to war. Next, it gives an unrivalled picture of the fourteenth century,—that strange epoch in which the Middle Age became overblown and decayed, and the ground was prepared for the Renaissance and the Reformation. Thirdly, it is one of the most readable and entertaining books ever written, being full of stirring adventures, strange legends, and quaint and picturesque reflections, and over all the clash of arms and the shoutings and war-cries from the press of knights. Lastly, it shows us the ideal of chivalry applied to real life, and lets us see in some ways how hollow and unmean- ing, and yet in others how ennobling, was the code of honour and humanity which the knight professed when he bathed and watched and donned the gilt spur and received the three blows of the sword upon his shoulder. But alas ! on this count it must be admitted that the knightly ideal, though not altogether a sham, had little effect to save the age from depravity and degeneracy. In truth, besides being cruel and false, it was "a lubrique and adulterous age." Tennyson said well when he spoke of the legend of the Morte Darthur being "touched by the adulterous finger of the time." Everywhere the trail of treason in hearth and home is upon the age. Other epochs have been barbarously licentious or cynically indifferent about this vice. It was reserved for the so-called age of chivalry to treat it as a virtue, to surround it with the sense of poetry and romance,—to keep for adultery alone the name and the emotion of love. This love was the soft and entrancing passion which justified faithlessness in a wife and treachery in a friend,—nay, which made those acts sublime, and called for the sympathy of all feeling hearts.

But though Froissart is here and there touched, like the 31orte Darthur, by the adulterous finger, his stories of war and adventure are usually clean enough. It is difficult to know what to quote to illustrate the charm of his narrative.

The account of Crecy and of the King on the Windmill Hill is too well known. Instead, here is the first account of an English naval victory,—the sea-fight at Slays :—

"This was on Midsummer-even in the year of our Lord MCCCXL., all the English fleet was departed out of the river of Thames and took the way to Sluys. And the same time between Blankenberghe and Sluys on the sea was sir Hugh Quieret, sir Peter Behuchet and Barbevaire, and more than sixscore great vessels, beside other ; and they were of Normans, bidaus, Genoways and Picards about the number of forty thousand : there they were laid by the French king to defend the king of England's passage. The king of England and his came sailing till he came before Sluys : and when he saw so great a number of ships that their

masts seemed to be like a great wood Then the king set all his ships in order, the greatest before, well furnished with archers, and ever between two ships of archers he had one ship with men of arms ; and then he made another battle to lie aloof, with archers, to comfort ever them that were most weary, if need were. And there were a great number of countesses, ladies, knights' wives and other damosels, that were going to see the queen at Gaunt : these ladies the king caused to be well kept with three hundred men of arms and five hundred archers. When the king and his marshals had ordered his battles, he drew up the sails and came with a quarter wind to have the vantage of the sun, and so at last they turned a little to get the wind at will. And when the Normans saw them recule back, they had marvel why they did so, and some said, They think themselves not meet to meddle with us, wherefore they will go back.' They saw well how the king of England was there personally, by reason of his banners. Then they did apparel their fleet in order, for they were sage and good men of war on the sea, and did set the Christofer,' the which they had won the year before, to be foremost, with many trumpets and instruments, and so set on their enemies. There began a sore battle on both parts : archers and cross-bows began to shoot, and men of arms approached and fought hand to hand : and the better to come together they had great hooks and grappers of iron, to cast out of one ship into another, and so tied them fast together. There were many deeds of arms done, taking and rescuing again, and at last the great Christofer ' was first

won by the Englishmen, and all that were within it taken or slain. Then there was great noise and cry, and the Englishmen approached and fortified the Christofer ' with archers, and made him to pass on before to fight with the Genoways. This battle was right fierce and terrible ; for the battles on the sea are more dangerous and fiercer than the battles by land : for on the sea there is no reculing nor fleeing; there is no remedy but to fight and to abide fortune, and every man to shew his prowess. Of a truth sir Hugh Quieret, and sir Behuchet and Barbevaire were right good and expert men of war. This battle endured from the morning till it was noon, and the Englishmen endured much pain, for their enemies were four against one, and all good men on the sea. There the king of England was a noble knight of his own hand ; he was in the flower of his yongth : in like wise so was the earl of Derby, Pembroke, Hereford, Huntingdon, Northampton and Gloucester, sir Reynold Cobham, sir Richard Stafford, the lord Percy, sir Walter of Manny, sir Henry of Flanders, sir John Beauchamp, the lord Felton, the lord Bradestan, sir [John] Chandos, the lord Delaware, the lord of Multon, sir Robert d'Artois called earl of Richmond, and divers other lords and knights, who bare themselves so valiantly with some succours that they had of Bruges and of the country there- about, that they obtained the victory ; so that the Frenchmen, Normans and other were discomfited, slain and drowned; there was not one that soaped, but all were slain. When this victory was achieved, the king all that night abode in his ship before Sluys, with great noise of trumpets and other instruments."

There is the real Homeric note of battle in this,—the masts of the enemy's fleet like a wood—the interpolated reflection on the unpleasant thoroughness of sea-fights ; and lastly, the King abiding all the night of victory in his ship "with great noise of trumpets."

This is the most characteristic and commonest form of Froissart's narration. As a contrast, we will set forth the little-known episode of the four Irish Kings. Froissart was a born interviewer, and when he sat next a strange knight at dinner he always got from him as many strange tales as he could, and promptly entered them in his chronicle. One of the best stories obtained in this way was the story of Sir Henry Christead. This knight, while in Ireland, and because he knew Irish, had entrusted to his safe keeping four Irish Kings, "to the intent," as he said, "that I should learn them to use themselves according to the usage of England." It was an up-hill task. As Sir Henry Chiistead pathetically remarked, "The honour is great, but the profit is but little, for though they be Kings, yet no man can devise nor speak of ruder personages." The great difficulty was to get them to wear breeches and to let themselves be made knights. In neither case would their patriotic feelings, like those of Mr. William O'Brien, allow them to be readily acquiescent. Here is Sir Henry's own account of his difficulties :—

"Much pain I had to make them to speak anything in fair manner : somewhat I altered them, but not much; for in many cases they drew to their natural rudeness. The king my sovereign lord's intent was, that in manner, countenance and apparel of clothing they should use according to the manner of England, for the king thought to make them all four knights. They had a fair house to lodge in in Dublin, and I was charged to abide still with them and not to depart, and so two or three days I suffered them to do as they list and said nothing to them, but followed their own appetites: they would sit at the table and make countenance nother good. nor fair ; then I thought I should cause them to change that manner. They would cause their minstrels, their servants and varlets to sit with them and to eat in their own dish and to drink of their cups, and they shewed me that the usage of their country was good, for they said in all things (except their beds) they were and lived as common. So the fourth day I ordained other tables to be covered in the hall after the usage of England, and I made these four kings to sit at the high table, and their minstrels at another board, and their servants and varlets at another beneath them, whereof by seeming they were displeased and beheld each other and would not eat, and said how I would take them from their good usage, wherein they had been nourished. Then I answered them, smiling to appease them, that it was not honourable for their estates to do as they did before and that they must leave it and 1188 the custom of England, and that it was the king's pleasure they should so do, and how he was charged so to order them. When they heard that, they suffered it, because they had put themselves under the obeisance of the king of England, and persevered in the same as long as I was with them. Yet they had one use, which I knew well was used in their country, and that was they did wear no breeches. I caused breeches of linen cloth to be made for them. While I was with them, I caused them to leave many rude things, as well in clothing as in other causes. Much ado I had at the first to cause them to wear gowns of silk furred with minever and gray, for before these kings thought themselves well appa- relled when they had on a mantle. They rode always without saddles and stirrups, and with great pain I made them io ride after our usage."

Poor, simple old Kings, accustomed to sit at meat not only breechless and clothed in nothing but a mantle, but in company with their poets and retainers, and now harried

past bearing by this fussy, tiresome English Court martinet,

with his ridiculous rules and etiquettes. No wonder they made "countenance nother good nor fair" when they were forced to live under such ridiculous restraint.

We would gladly quote a dozen more passages from Froissart had we space, and especially two. The first is the account of the spirit Orthon, and of how like the true Poltergeist he was ; he struck great strokes at the chamber- door till the lady of the castle was sore afraid, and "all the

vessels in the kitchen were overturned." It is an excellent spiritualistic story, and deserves to have the bull's-eye which Mr. Lang keeps for the purpose, turned upon it. But for all its quaintness, it is a very creepy story, and we do not wonder

that for the first two or three times when Orthon appeared, "the lady, the knight's wife, would hide herself under the clothes."

But even better than Orthon is the account of Richard IL and his deposition. Of these events, Froissart was an eye- witness. He writes of them with marvellous spirit and brightness. We see "the Earl [of Lancaster] come riding to the Castle-gate ; " we hear the gates close on him as he boldly enters with only twelve companions. Nor is the sense of tears in mortal things absent from Froissart's book. When he tells how Richard was deserted even by his greyhound, we cannot choose but pity the weak and unworthy King :—

" And as it was informed me, king Richard had a greyhound called Math, who always waited upon the king and would know no man else ; for whensoever the king did ride, he that kept the greyhound did let him loose and he would straight run to the king and fawn upon him and leap with his fore feet upon the king's shoulders. And as the king and the earl of Derby talked together in the court, the greyhound, who was wont to leap upon the king, left the king and came to the earl of Derby, duke of Lancaster, and made to him the same friendly countenance and cheer as he was wont to do to the king. The duke, who knew not the greyhound, demanded of the king what the greyhound would do. • Cousin,' quoth the king, it is a great good token to you and an evil sign to me.'—' Sir, how know you that ' quoth the duke.—' I know it well,' quoth the king, the greyhound maketh you cheer this day as king of England, as ye shall be, and I shall be deposed. The greyhound bath this knowledge naturally : therefore take him to you ; he will follow you and forsake me.' The duke understood well those words and cherished the grey- hound, who would never after follow king Richard, but followed the duke of Lancaster. So every man leapt a-horseback and departed from the castle of Flint and entered into the fields."

But we can find space for no more Froissart. Yet before we leave this typical man of letters of the close of the Middle Ages, it is well to note one point and to ask one question. No one can read both the Chronicles and the Movie Darthur, and not note the extraordinary resemblance in tone and spirit which inspires one and the other. Was the world the actual romance which Froissart represents it, or was Froissart so deeply steeped in the romances that he imported their spirit

into history? We suspect that a little of both is true. The romances were to some extent a product of the age ; but they reacted on the men of letters, and made the Chroniclers picture the world far more romantic than it really was. Again, it must be remembered that every one, from the Black Prince downwards, except the Irish Kings, with their bare legs and insufficient mantles, was trying to act as if he were a character in a romance. Hence, to draw them as they were was to make history read lake romance. But, alas ! beside the glitter and "the fine sparkle of love" that gleams from the lady's eyes upon her lover, beside the chivalry, the prowess, and the courtesy, beside the gorgeous state and "the long coats with strait sleeves furred with miniver like prelates," was a sad, cruel, hunger- ing, thirsting world,—a world half-mad with misery and wrong. Remember that the age of chivalry was the age of the Jacquerie,—the age of Piers Plowman. Let any one who wants to see the other side of the shield presented by Froissart, read that wonderful poem, a new version of which is just published by Mr. Fisher Ern win. Yet must we not therefore altogether condemn the fourteenth century. If it did not act up to it, it at least formulated the ideal of

chivalry, the ideal from which has sprung that of the gentle- man,—an ideal so high that it was with no irreverence that the Elizabethan dramatist could describe our Lord himself

as "the first true gentleman that ever breathed."