of the three younger princes of France, retreated from the battle, in order, as they afterwards alleged, to place these royal persons in safety. The army of the French was now in such confusion, that the third division was exposed to the full fury of the English assault by the retreat of the second line, and the person of King John, who commanded it, was placed in the greatest danger; his nobles, who fought around him, were almost all slain or taken, and the victors, who disputed with each other the glory and advantage of taking so great a prince alive, called out, "Yield you, Sir, or you die !" The gallant monarch disdained the safety which was to be found by complying with these invitations, and continued manfully to defend himself with his battle-axe. "If," says Froissart, "the knights of King John had fought as resolutely as he did himself, the event of the day might have been different."

Finding himself left almost alone, and overpowered by numbers, the unfortunate King expressed a wish to surrender to his cousin, the Prince of Wales; but as this was impossible-for the Prince was in a distant part of the field—King John gave his gauntlet, in token of surrender, to Sir Denis Morbeque, a Frenchman by birth, but who, exiled from France for a homicide there committed, was in the Black Prince's service.

Philip of France, youngest son of King John, remained captive with his father. He behaved so resolutely on that fatal day, that he was said to have then acquired the epithet of the Hardy, by which he was afterwards distinguished.

The Prince of Wales, whose courtesy was at least

equal to his bravery, caused a banquet to be spread in his pavilion, where he entertained the captive monarch, with his great nobles, while he himself refused to sit down at the table, as not worthy of so great an honour as to eat with the King of France. He bid his royal captive, at the same time, make no heavy cheer for his misfortunes, though the fate of battle had been otherwise than he would have desired. "You shall find my father," said he, "willing to display towards you all honour and friendship, and you shall, if you will, become such friends together as you have never hitherto been. Consider," he added, with well-meant flattery, "though you have lost the field, you have attained the praise of being the bravest knight who has this day fought upon your side." The unfortunate king was much affected by the courtesy of his victor, from which he experienced whatever consolation his condition admitted of.

The Prince of Wales was not less anxious to reward his friends, than by his generous conduct to soften the misfortunes of his enemies. Lord Audley, who had commenced the battle of Poitiers, had continued, as long as the action lasted, still pressing forward, without stopping to make prisoners, until at length he was nearly slain upon the spot; and he was the first object of the Prince's gratitude. Upon this noble knight the Prince bestowed, with his highest commendations, a free gift of five hundred merks of yearly revenue, which Sir James Audley received with suitable expressions of gratitude.

When he returned to his own pavilion, the noble knight sent for his brother, and some other friends,

and made them bear witness that he transferred to his four faithful squires the gift which the Prince had given him, since it had been by their means and steady support through the whole battle that he had been able to render the services which the Prince had valued so highly.

Moderate in his wishes to improve his victory, and chiefly desirous to secure his important prisoner, King John of France, the Prince declined entering into any considerable enterprise at this time, and passed steadily on his retreat towards Bordeaux.

Among other information, the Black Prince learned the generous manner in which Lord Audley had disposed, among his four esquires, of the splendid gift which his bounty had conferred upon him. He sent for him therefore to his presence, and requested to know wherefore he had parted with the gift of his sovereign, and whether his conduct arose from the present not being acceptable to him. Sir James Audley confessed that he had presented to his esquires the gift which his highness's bounty had conferred; but he alleged that the fidelity of those esquires had been the means of his being able to execute the vow which he had made; and that, by their constant attendance through the bloody day, they had repeatedly saved his life at the imminent risk of their own. "Wherefore," said the noble Lord, "it was well my part to transfer to them that bounty which your Highness designed for me, especially since, renouncing in their behalf this royal gift, I have still, God be praised! revenues sufficient to maintain my place in your Highness's service. But if this should offend your High

ness, I am right willing that it shall be ordered according to your pleasure.”

The Black Prince joyfully accepted an apology so congenial to his feelings. He highly approved of Lord Audley's generosity to his esquires, but made a point of pressing upon him an additional gift of four hundred pounds yearly, which he required him to retain for his own use and behoof.

It was also, apparently, on this march that the Black Prince decided the important question, who was to be considered as the immediate captor of King John of France. With the same generosity and justice which usually marked the conduct of this gallant prince, Edward adjudged the glory and profit of this action to the poor French exile, Sir Denis of Morbeque, to whom King John had given his gauntlet in token of surrender, rather than to the powerful knights and barons, who disputed with him the advantages of so important a capture. The ransom of a captive belonged to the person by whom he was taken prisoner; but the person of King John fell under an exception, which adjudged that prisoners whose ransom was rated at ten thousand crowns or upwards should not belong to individuals, but to the general of the army. The prince, therefore, finally closed this affair by secretly transferring to Denis Morbeque the sum at which King John's ransom was rated.

After spending upwards of six months at Bourdeaux, the Black Prince proceeded to England with his prisoner, and made a solemn entrance into London [April 1357], where the citizens received him with a gorgeous display of their power and wealth. In the pro

cession which traversed the city on the occasion, King John of France appeared in royal array, mounted upon a beautiful white courser, while the Prince of Wales, avoiding the triumphant display of a victor, rode beside his captive upon a little black palfrey of an ordinary appearance. In modern times, this might be considered as an affectation of humility, and a more pointed personal triumph, than if the prince had shewn less apparent deference. But we are not to judge of the feelings of a rude age from those of a civilized one. In Edward's time, it was no uncommon display of the victor to shew conquered princes to the people, loaded with irons, as in the triumphs of the ancient Romans : and the very opposite conduct of the conqueror of Poitiers was considered as a mark of moderation and humility on his part, and received as such by the vanquished monarch, and all who witnessed it.

PERCY AND DOUGLAS.

THE BATTLE OF OTTERBURN.

A.D. 1388.

PERCY, Earl of Northumberland, an English noble of great power, and with whom the Douglas had frequently had encounters, sent his two sons, Sir Henry