Another oddball medieval name from the Chronicle of the Good Duke

During my years with the Good Duke I have run across a number of surprising and amusing personal names: Bliomberis Loup and his brother, for instance (follow the "names" label to find him).

I don't recall this classic name of an English knight involved in the Duke of Lancaster's chevauche in 1373:

Sir Jean Bulle.

Some people you just don't want to fight...

...because some people are just scum.

During the first half of the Hundred Years War, when France was in chaos, disbanded soldiers often struck out on their own to fill their purses and their stomachs by capturing both warriors and civilians and ransoming them back to their lords or families.  These were not nice people, as this story of the Good Duke makes clear. Duke Louis, who had himself been captive in England for seven years, was determined to rout out these outlaws.  Duke Louis' men had if anything a lower opinion of these "English" (who may not have been English in fact).

Duke Louis told them:

They have made a pit at Beauvoir , and when they have taken someone who they do not wish to or cannot ransom, they say " put them in hell" and they are thrown into this pit full of fire, of which everyone was so terrified, so that when anyone became a prisoner, he gave out that he was rich for fear of being thrown in hell. Therefore Duke Louis required, that all of his company should take part in the attack.

They all replied "Most redoubtable Lord, we are ready to go where it pleases you and we desire nothing else. But we pray you humbly, that it please you that you personally should not go there; for it would be too much of an honor to such people as they are, that such a Prince as you are ought to go there. For they are excommunicated by the sentence of the Pope, and are men of the companies, and without absolution; but if you please order us to go there." Therefore the Duke agreed with them and with great pain, as to him who always wished to be with them.

They won...

all those at Beauvoir were killed except the captain, Le Bourg Camus, who was taken to Molins, and the others were thrown into their hell.

Image: This might be a later version of Beauvoir castle.

Back to the Good Duke

After some months of writing other material, I am back to translating The Chronicle of the Good Duke, Louis II of Bourbon.  (I am astonished to see, by the way, that I started this translation in 2010.)  It's a fascinating view of one of the great warrior-princes (no, not Xena) of the first half of the Hundred Years War.  The best part of the chronicle is, however, what it says about the knights and squires who fought in Louis' service.  I've written an article about the Chronicle in the Journal of Medieval History, if you are fortunate enough to be near a library that carries it.

The Chronicle has its challenges.  It was written by an obscure hanger-on of the Bourbon family, one Cabaret d'Orville, who doesn't seem to be the master of the French language that he might be.  He is excessively fond of sentences that begin with "and."  I once told a friend that if I simply eliminated every "And" that began a sentence -- just the "and" not the sentence -- the Chronicle would be a third shorter.

Well, I tested that theory yesterday when I set up MS Word to search for an initial And.  And it told me that in 240-some pages there were 707 Ands I could get rid of.

Done and dusted.  Simplest bit of editing I've ever done.

Image:  Yes, that's him, as the 15th century remembered him.

The brutal men at arms of the Good Duke

Faithful readers and good friends know that I've been working for a while on a translation of the Chronicle of the Good Duke, a French biography of the Duke of Bourbon dating from about 1429. The events covered by the Chronicle are actually older than that. One of the most interesting things about this document is that it was written by a young person consulting with a prominent man at arms of the Duke of Bourbon's retinue, whose memory stretched back half a century and more. The man at arms was Jean de Châteaumorand, who understandably had a high opinion of his former master and his compatriots who fought the wars against the English back in the golden days of chivalry. In Châteaumorand's telling they were a pretty neat bunch and there were lots of good stories about their worthy deeds in the French wars and elsewhere. I currently have a collaborator on this project, Phil Paine, whose Middle French is much better than mine. He sent me up page of corrections recently that contained a very interesting story that shows the men at arms of the Good Duke in a less flattering light.

The Duke of Bourbon and the Poitevins left there, and they went before a place called le Faon, which was not encircled by trenches,where it would have water. And so the place was strongly assaulted, but it was not taken on that day, except only the lower courtyard, where many good men were wounded. For there was there a Franciscan who was wondrous at firing the arbelest, with which he killed four gentlemen, and he was said to be the finest arbelister in Poitou, and well provisioned [with amunition]. And on the next day, the Poitevins and Bourbonnois assailed the keep in a fierce and strong assault, and those within defended themselves, and the Franciscan let fire [again], but it was such an energetic effort that the fortress was taken, and many men killed within, save for the Franciscan-arbelester, who had removed his habit and fled to his monastery. And then the whole army asked “where is the Franciscan?”, and it was alleged that he was in the church, on his knees before the altar. And so Sir Jean de Roye hastened there, because the Franciscan had killed, by his shooting, one of his squires. And he took the Franciscan, along with his habit, and went to hang him from a tree, doing so circumspectly, so that the Duke did not know about it. And the Duke of Bourbon left le Faon.

Here we see a course of action approved by the entire army but which other people might see as disgraceful. The killing of the Franciscan might harm the Duke of Bourbon's reputation so Châteaumorand is careful to say that the Duke knew nothing about the hanging of the clerical Archer. Why might others disapproved? The telling of the tale makes it clear that the Franciscan was taken out of church and hanged. It looks to be that privileges of the clergy both in the case of the Archer and the church he was found in had been violated. Other observers could see this as an atrocity or a war crime. But John the Châteaumorand, Jean de Roye and the rest of the Army were angry and felt truly justified in hunting down and hanging the Archer. Very likely they saw the Archer as stepping outside of his role as a clergyman and taking on illegitimately the role of the combatant. He was trying to have things both ways, combatant and privileged noncombatant. The may be something more to it. It's well-known that men at arms did not see archers as their equals, even if they took part in combat as part of organized armies. It could be that Châteaumorand and his friends saw the archer as a low class sharpshooter who had no right to be so effective and kill their friends.

Ah, fashion!

In 1388, the Good Duke (Louis of Bourbon) was campaigning on the German frontier. As he besieged a castle, one of the duke's servants, a valet of the wine cellar, offered to arrange an infiltration of the fortress. The valet was from that part of Germany, and he figured that he could talk himself and a small company into the castle. Part of his confidence came from the current fashion:

So everyone in the household Duke of Bourbon said that it was a good strategy of war, seeing that in this time everyone was dressed like a German anyway.

I love the Chronicle of the Good Duke.

The French are feeling their oats

Early in the reign of Charles VI (1380s), the French are feeling a bit more confident about their prospects in facing the English. The Chronicle of the Good Duke shows the Duke of Burgundy trying to wind up his royal nephew:

Then the King sent to the Duke, “You speak well my uncle but what are you saying?”

“Monsiegneur,” said the Duke, “I will tell you: It seems to me that he doesn't do anything who does not do more. These English have made war on Monsiegneur your father for a long time, and on you, and they don’t do anything but often cross over to this side, and they are but a little people. Leave off these all little enterprises, do one that will be remembered forever. You are the greatest living King, and you have more people, and it has often occurred to me that we should undertake to cross to England and to strike down the great pride of these English.

Brave words, sir, brave words!

Continuing with the Chronicle of the Good Duke

Just this morning, I finished the next run through of the Chronicle of the Good Duke, the one where I fix errors created by the dictation software. This is going better than I thought.

The next run through examines grammatical problems which I didn't figure out the first time. It will be harder.

This time it occurred to me that if I eliminate all the phrases that mean "and so" that occur at the beginning of sentences, the book may be a third shorter. That's only a little bit of an exaggeration.

How useful was heavy cavalry in the Late Middle Ages?

According to the Chronicle of the Good Duke, written in 1429 but talking about events about twenty years earlier, Duke of Brittany looked across a battlefield  at the troops led by  the Constable of France, the Lord of Clisson, and reacted as follows:

And the Constable Clisson, who was a valorous knight of bold enterprise, went boldly from his siege with his men arranged to give battle to the Duke if he dared to wait. And the Duke of Brittany seeing the battle order of the Lord of Clisson, told his men “My lords and companions, see Clisson there has arranged his companies and desires nothing but battle? I would not refuse that at all willingly but I see that he has arranged a great wing of his men who are mounted on great coursers of superior quality. Our horses are small; and those who are over there will come charge us and we will not be able to withstand them; and things will be the worse for us.” For this reason the Duke retreated that day with his men ...

Knightly humility

One of the most notable  characteristics of the medieval knight was his pride, pride that made him unwilling to back down from a challenge; pride that could lead  to serious trouble through overreaching.

Sometimes, however, pride was disavowed and humility was paraded before a given knight's audience. An interesting example of how lords and high ranking warriors, men full of justifiable pride in their accomplishments and family connection – we should think – end up talking poor can be found in the Chronicle of the Good Duke.

The incident took place at the tail end of the siege of Mahdia in North Africa, a place that the French attackers simply called "Africa." There'd been a lot of fighting around this desirable city, with the French and Genoese scoring some victories but not even coming close to taking the city. In other words the confrontation was going nowhere and it was time to go.

The good Duke Louis of Bourbon decided to take counsel from his chief men and his Genoese allies.

"Sire, the city is marvelously strong as you see it is very well supplied with men; there are these Kings with very great troops who in our opinion will not move to the field and for nothing that you can do will they give battle. And they put us in delay to make us eat up all our food. Also in our ships is neither siege engines nor rock throwers nor any engine to take to the wall; our siege tower is burnt and the falcon beaks are exhausted so we don't know what to say about this."

 The Duke said "there is only one thing more to do" and so the Genoese spoke about the matter to the other patrons of Genoa and the captains of the galleys came to seek a treaty with the Africans ... The Duke of Bourbon put all the chivalry French and English together to know whether this treaty was honorable or not. And standing in the Council there were the Duke of Bourbon who wished that the souldich d'Estrau -- who was one of the oldest of the Army and one of the most valiant knights one could find --should speak first and be asked his advice about it; the souldich said that there was no reason that he should speak about it first and he had not seen anything in this time that however you it was going to speak loyally that which he knew of it, and that when he had seen like this in his time according to which he did not wish to praise himself facing that this was the most remarkable thing he had found himself during his life, to have awaited in the field against the power of three Kings for two and half months assailed the town, before them without having sent remedy and since have gone to attack their tents, throwing them out by force,  this is a much greater thing than the greatest battle that one could ever see. And about the treaty the souldich said further "that which those of Africa offer, it is also as honorable as if the town had been taken for you put them in truce and in servitude which they were not able to refuse even in the presence of all their power."The souldich said further,"I who am nothing but a poor Chevalier, I hold this thing as honorable as though I had been in three battles"  

After the souldich, Jeannicot d'Ortenie an Englishman one of the valiant Knights known anywhere said he held to the opinion of the souldich d'Estrau that certainly he did not know about it except to repeat it. Afterwards the Lord of Clifford chief of the English came, who said when asked that he held to the statement of the the souldich and that was the opinion of the English. So it happened after that the Duke of Bourbon asked the advice of count of Eu who told him "Sire it appears to me that the things that have been done are so great and good up to now and the treaty so honorable you ought not to refuse it."

After the Lord of Couci spoke who said plainly to the Duke, "Monseigneur, the voyage is so grand and so honorable for you and for all those have been on it and one cannot say better about such power as of the three Kings and the great things which you have done. For they did not dare defy you, they have lost every day and  you have had the advantage moreover have taken their lodgings from them, this amounts in honor to a good battle, and it is a bad defeat for them.  After you have the treaty, so grand, by which they are so strongly enslaved whereby you are able to leave honorably as though you had taken the town. And with such power as you see before us and also, Monseigneur, your people have a lack of supplies, and there are at it many diseases from which you may lose many, because or you have been there too long; and it will be a remaining without reason for you have the best treaty that now is possible to have for you and your company." Afterwards the judgment of the Count of Eu was asked who said that after the Lord of Couci he had nothing to alter. Also the sire of Granville, who held their opinion and the sire of St. George, the sire of Castillon and all other chevaliers which there were many.

It seems to me that this is a very ambiguous situation. Has the expedition been a failure or success? The Duke of Bourbon asked around the leading lights of his Army hoping for their seal of approval on his behavior -- everyboy knows he has to leave -- which he gets. But note that they seem to be somewhat reluctant to put all their prestige behind the Duke's plans and accomplishments. So you have extremely experienced and high ranking warriors saying, "I think we accomplished a lot… But what do I know, humble Chevalier that I am?

More of the story of the Good Duke

Okay, when it came to writing down the story of the Good Duke decades later, who exactly was it who remembered that he took 2000 head of poultry and 200 pieces of salt pork on his expedition to Africa? And who thought it was interesting to include this material and why?

Who has the heavy horses?

In the last generation, many medieval military historians have applied and adapted the idea of a military revolution to the era of the Hundred Years War. One element of that supposed revolution was the deemphasis of cavalry and new emphasis on infantry, especially infantry using projectile weapons. A few years back at the Kalamazoo conference there was a rather humorous session in which a well-known scholar felt it necessary to argue the cavalry was not completely useless, and he received a rather jocular reception.

Exactly how cavalry was used in the high Middle Ages, how useful it was, and how its role changed in the later Middle Ages and the early modern period is a difficult question, or series of questions. However, I feel on very solid ground to assert that horsemanship and fighting on horse back were considered by contemporaries to be an essential element of noble identity. A man at arms, a warrior of high standing, was a cavalryman, and – here's a practical note – was paid more than men on foot, gens de pie, were.

Here's another interesting story relevant to this matter. It comes of course from my favorite text, the Chronicle of the Good Duke, written in 1429 but in this case claiming to report an incident of 1388. Once again the Duke of Brittany and the Constable of France were fighting. The Duke had brought up a substantial army and the Constable was outnumbered. Here's what happened next, according (probably) to a survivor of this campaign, Jean de Chastelmorand.

The Duke of Brittany seeing the battle order of the Lord of Clisson told his men, "My lords and companions, see Clisson there, who has arranged his companies and desires nothing but battle. I would not refuse it at all. willingly but I see that he has put together a great wing of his men who are mounted on great coursers of superior quality. Our horses are small; those over there will come charge us and we will not be able to withstand them; and things will be the worse for us."

Some of my readers will know the catchphrase "who gets the horse?" that came out of recent discussions of Charny's questions. Here we have "who has the heavy horses?"

Update: somewhat later, the Lord of Clisson says something of this sort:

Beaumanoir will lead the remaining men of my household and I don't want you to have more than about 150 men at arms for you are plenty for 600 horses of Bretons. And I swear to God that the horse of the Bretons are worth nothing and it seems to me that you will not fail to find your adventure and you will be able to take it looking good and complete it.

 Further update:

When it came to the middle of the day, the Lord of Clisson said to his men, “My good Lords, you are well mounted, the horses of those over there are small; charge into these Bretons and push them into the battalion of the Duke.” And they did it just so and in this melee both a good 100 Bretons of the Duke’s party were killed and a good 100 horses gained; 

The Good Duke speaks

Duke Louis of Bourbon proposes a plan when he hears that the English army, besieging a Spanish city, is dying of disease:

Since they are dying, it would be a good thing to go help them to die some more.

Men at arms' hostility to archers – more from the Chronicle of the Good Duke

Have you ever heard a cliché so often that you begin to doubt that it could possibly be true?

One such cliché for me is the hostility of men at arms in the late Middle Ages to archers and crossbowmen. Men at arms being of course mounted well armored soldiers who in a different era would be called knights.

Today I was reading the Chronicle of the Good Duke Louis of Bourbon, a fascinating account written in the 15th century about one of the best French war leaders of the late 14th century, and his retinue. While doing so I ran across this story which tends to lend credence to the cliché:

They [Duke Louis and his men]went before a place called le Faon, which...was strongly assailed, and it was not taken that day, besides only the low court, where there were many good men wounded; for there was  a Cordelier [A Franciscan friar]  who did marvels of shooting from a rock thrower, to the point that he killed four gentlemen, and one said that he was the strongest arbalester in Poitou. And the next morning the Poitevins and Bourbonnois assailed the donjon, and there was a fierce assault and strong one, and those of the tower defended themselves, and the Cordelier was shooting but they [Louis's men] fought in the manner so that it was taken by good assault and they killed so many of the men inside, with the exception of the Cordelier-arbalester who had taken his habit and had fled to the monastery. And then everyone in the army demanded to know where the Cordelier was: and it was said that he was in the church on his knees before the altar. And so Messire Jean de Roye ran there because the Cordelier had killed in shooting one of his squires, and Jean took the Cordelier with his habit and went to hang him from a tree, concealing himself well so that the Duke of Bourbon should not know of it.

It is left as an exercise for the reader to figure out what Duke Louis's men thought was most offensive about this archer.

Sabbatical update -- end of the Windsor sojourn

I will soon be returning to the North Bay area and although my sabbatical is neither formally nor informally over, there will be a break in my labors and a reorganization. In particular, I will have to organize course materials for my fall courses. So I thought that it was a good time to issue a complete scorecard of what I have accomplished so far.

Projects finished

Reviews:

• Charles Kurzman, Democracy Denied (Journal of World History, accepted for fall 2010)
• Mark Pegg, A Most Holy War (Michigan War Studies Review, now available online)
• Richard Kaeuper, Holy Warriors (The Medieval Review, now available online)

Article:

• "Republics and Quasi-Democratic Institutions in Ancient India: Their Significance Today," for the forthcoming book The Secret History of Democracy (a rethinking and recasting of an earlier web-published article; forthcoming this year; submitted and accepted)

Conference paper delivered:

• "Chivalry: Military biographies and other tales of the later Middle Ages" at the 45th International Congress of Medieval Studies, Kalamazoo, Michigan; special lecture sponsored by De Re Militari and the Journal of Medieval Military History.

Still in process

• The lecture delivered at Kalamazoo, revised and retitled, will be published in the Journal of Medieval Military History next year (as is the custom with this series of special lectures). This must be finished by the end of the year.
  
• I have finished a first draft of my translation and commentary on Charny's Questions on War. Right now the draft is out with another informed reader. I hope to have a thorough rewrite done by the end of summer.
  
• I have translated a good third of the Chronicle of the Good Duke -- about 110 pages in the printed edition. I hope to return to it by the fall.
  
• I have been asked to write a substantial article on the ancient Indian republics for the
  The Edinburgh Companion to the History of Democracy, due end of September.

Some things I learned from the Chronicle of the Good Duke, 2: That old gang of mine

Fighting in a mine, a tunnel or a ditch used to undermine a castle wall or break into a fortification, was in the late Middle Ages an effective but dangerous tactic, and such combats had a special prestige in a warrior culture where "doing more" than somebody else counted for a lot.

There is a passage in the Chronicle of the Good Duke in which fighting in a mine allows a number of different people to increase their renown and honor, most notably the good Duke and his fighting retinue. At the siege of Vertreuil in 1385, the good Duke decided that the English-held position could only be taken by mining. When the mine was ready to take an attacking force, the English did their best to stop the attack by sallying out through the gates to take on the Frenchmen above ground before the mine could be used. The attack was unsuccessful but it did cause unexpected casualties. The Duke acted almost immediately to get things moving in the right direction. Châteaumorand remembered it this way:

The same day the Duke of Bourbon took a dozen knights and some squires with him, saying: "I wish to go see the mine;" which he would not have done if he had no hope of combat there; so the Duke went putting himself right up front, and sent Le Borgne de Veaulce before him and said to him, "Borgne, go ahead since you know the people of this castle, and ask them inside if there's a knight coming forward, and tell them that he will find who will receive him to fight in the mine." Then Le Borgne de Veaulce called to ask if they had no knight who wished to perform arms. So they told him no, but with them was a high gentleman who had a good company inside, and was Lieutenant of the captain and was all ready and prepared to perform arms with whomever wished to come. And Le Borgne de Veaulce answered "Come forward and see one here who is ready," not wishing to name his master. And then the Duke of Bourbon advanced in the mine, and from the other side likewise came the squire which those of the castle had mentioned, who was called Reynaud de Montferrand…

When the fight began, some of the Duke's men shouted out his battle cry and Reynaud heard them, disengaged, and asked with astonishment if this was actually the Duke of Bourbon. On being told yes, Reynaud seems to have been taken by the unusual situation he found himself in, and dared to ask the Duke for a favor.

"…Tell him that I request that it please him that in this honorable place [the mine, where only the most courageous would risk themselves] where he is that he should make me a knight by his hand, for I will never have it more honorably. And for his honor and valiance I am ready to surrender the place to him."

After the briefest of negotiations, the Duke "who observed that all these things were to his great honor," accepted the surrender, if the keys to the fortification were turned over immediately. This was done and Reynaud de Montferrand was knighted on the spot. To increase the honorable nature of this special moment, however, the Duke added on another condition:

…he ordered that Montferrand would surrender the place the next day. And further it was ordered that the knights and squires who were there with the Duke of Bourbon should bear arms the next day inside their mine with those of the castle one side against the other, which M. John l'Aye the marshal would oversee, so that each would be satisfied to have fought in the mine… [And in fact the next day, this combat took place.] …They were not able to fight except with swords, because the opening had a width of only a foot and a half; but each one did his duty well, one after the other, according to the place, which was narrow and because the night grew dark, the companions returned to the tents. And the next day the Duke of Bourbon sent one of his marshals [to receive the promised surrender, which took place as agreed. Then] Reynaud de Montferrand knelt before the Duke and said to him, "My very redoubtable lord, I thank you most humbly for the benefits and honors which have come to me from you, to be a knight by the hand of so high and valiant a Prince as you are; so it is an honor to me and all my lineage forever." The Duke answered, "M. Reynaud, chivalry is very strong in you, for you are a valiant man of good lineage."

What does this story tell us about the Duke? He did very well by his practical goals and his reputation by taking unusual risks with himself, by entering the mine and daring the garrison, especially its leaders, to resist him. He won big with this tactic; his reputation was already so great, mainly perhaps because of his rank, but certainly also because of his experience as a warrior prince, that he was able to take the fortification with no further harm to himself or even his enemies. And like a winner at the gambling table, his victory increased his reserves of honor rather than diminishing them.

But the Duke was not content simply to increase his own renown. The Duke went out of his way to share the glory with his most valued captains. He did so by insisting that they not be cheated of the opportunity to fight in a mine. Even if nothing was at stake now except renown, the stories that could be told afterwards would amaze listeners. Hours of strenuous and dangerous fighting took place, until the level of light fell to the point that combat could not continue. Here we see the Chronicle of the Good Duke transformed into the Chronicle of the Good Duke's men. It is one more tale of "that old gang of mine," this time, in the mine.

The group renown won on this occasion turned out to be as valuable in a practical sense as the personal renown gained by the Duke, as we see almost immediately in the description of the army's return to Poitiers, which is described in the same short chapter as the taking of Vertreuil and the fight in the mine. Châteaumorand shows how warriors who had not benefited from the patronage of the good Duke saw him and his men. Duke Louis left Vertreuil intending to go to Paris and attend the King, something he was always under obligation to do whether it was convenient for him or not. At Poitiers he found himself delayed by the leading people of that strategic and historic city. The Poitevins, meaning the local seigneurs, who were at least in theory military men themselves, were worried about three places in the region that were occupied by the enemy and whose garrisons were destroying the countryside. The Poitevins asked Duke Louis for half of his men to stay at Poitou and deal with this menace. Duke Louis responded by saying "You are 600 men-at-arms, and I have another 600 of my house which I lead; you 600 will easily take these three places." So the Poitevins said to the Duke, "We are not able to do anything without your people; give us a captain to lead this war. They will be well paid and we will fly your banner, and six or seven banners of the people of your house." The Duke relented and traded 200 of his men at arms for 200 Poitevins; the numbers of each force remained the same but the army in Poitou was now stronger. The Poitevin army was to be commanded by nine of the Duke's best knights and three squires. These included several warriors well known to modern military historians, including Reynaud de Roye, Boucicault, and Châteaumorand himself. But maybe more to the point, of the twelve Châteaumorand names as leading members of this reinforced Poitevin force were four men who had just fought in the mine at Vertreuil. Their names and banners were regarded as valuable military resources; because of their association with the good Duke and their willingness to follow his path to glory and renown they were precisely the kind of men you would want in the forefront of your army.

Image: Verteuil? rebuilt later?

Some things I learned from the Chronicle of the Good Duke, 1

Not everyone could be at the International Congress on Medieval Studies last week, one so there are millions, yea billions of human beings who missed the paper I gave as part of the military history program. A few of those people might even be interested in the paper. Eventually, rewritten and retitled, it will appear in the Journal of Medieval Military History. But in the meantime, I will share with my faithful readers a couple of insights that I've gained from the work to date.

My subject was a fifteenth century chivalric biography called the Chronicle of the Good Duke, written in the year 1429 but recounting events of the previous century, largely as seen by an old knight named John de Châteaumorand, an old follower of the good Duke, Louis of Bourbon. John remembered Louis with a great deal of affection, because he had gotten his own start in the military life under the duke. In the first third of the Chronicle, there are a number of anecdotes that allow us to understand bonds of loyalty and love that could exist between Lord and follower.

One passage that is a particular favorite of mine shows how closely John, a young man entrusted to carry the Duke's pennon, identified with his master. Furthermore, it shows us that the older John felt that the honor of the Duke's retinue depended on the honor of the Duke and vice versa. Châteaumorand's prominent part in a stirring victory is depicted in a way that subordinates his personal identity to that of his leader and collective identity of his leader's armed retinue. Châteaumorand identifies himself in this rather long passage with the ducal pennon or banner that he carries; further, he makes sure the reader knows that he was just one of many worthy members of the retinue, all of whom had part in this victory and the honor that derived from it:

And there the Duke of Bourbon, having seen his knights and the squires of his household and country, and men at who appeared to sustain all contingencies destroy the palisade and garrison and pass through by force, was overjoyed. And during this melee, the pennon of the Duke of Bourbon, which John de Châteaumorand always carried, passed through the breach in the palisade, with those who followed him. Then the English …did not know what to do, outside of retreating into the fort; and as they retreated, the pennon rushed forward with the valiant men; and in this retreat … out of the English who ran away were killed and taken a good fourscore of the better men at arms from inside… And while [the English] retreated from certain lodges which were high up, to go to their fort, the pennon of the Duke of Bourbon with the people of his household charged them so close that as [the English] entered the tower, the pennon of the Duke of Bourbon rushed among them very well accompanied, so that those Englishman were not able to close the door of the tower, and so they surrendered to the one who carried the pennon of the Duke of Bourbon. And the prisoners surrendered to him […] and the very strong place was delivered. And in this way the pennon of the Duke of Bourbon with his companions [their names are listed] and five or six others of the household of the Duke of Bourbon, with his pennon, headed over to the other tower where they found already in front of it a great party of people of Auvergne who were climbing up there, and the lord of Montmorin, who was a valiant knight, and who had a fine company, and Geraud, lord of Laqueuilhe, accompanied by good people and who was a valiant man, the lord de Lafayette and others who had advanced by the advice of the lords and who had held very close to the English when they had arrived there so that the English could not flee. But when the English saw that the pennon of the Duke of Bourbon approached them, Captain Nolimbarbe surrendered with all of his companions to the Duke of Bourbon. And so was La Roche Senadoire taken, without a word of a lie.

In a bit I'll blog about another incident where the good Duke's honor and that of his faithful men are closely identified.

Sabbatical score so far -- update 2

I have not updated my sabbatical score since early November. That's about the time a lot of things went out the window. Nevertheless, I have got a lot done since November. You can add this to the earlier list.

• I have -- some time ago actually -- finished a first draft of my translation and commentary on Charny's Questions on War. (Don't be too impressed, it's a short study.) Right now the draft is out with an informed reader who I have asked to find the holes in my presentation.
• I have just finished the paper I will be presenting at Kalamazoo's International Congress on Medieval Studies. It concerns the Chronicle of the Good Duke. The paper may not be really done -- ask me in a few days -- but I could stand up and deliver it now with a good conscience and without dread, if I had to.
• I've also translated a good third of the Chronicle -- about 110 pages in the printed edition.

Despite the distractions and tragedies, I have got quite a bit done. I put it down to motivation. And my realization of how few people get this kind of work situation. It would be a sin to waste it. And I haven't.

Image: Someone else's messy pile of books.

Them good old days

From the Chronicle of the Good Duke, describing an expedition against English soldiers in the Bourbonnois country, late 14^th century.

So it was agreed to go to besiege La Bruyère in order that, when the Duke their lord came he would have to do only one siege. And in this way La Bruyère was besieged, and that was where the common people of the Bourbonnois they came to the siege, a d2000 of them; and the Count of Sancerre broke its ditches and the water ran out and the good people made so many faggots that they filled up the dishes and they made a "cat" to go to the foot of the wall, which was mined, and after that they threw fire inside, which burned everything. That way the great captains of those inside were all taken, Messire Richard Mauverdin and Jacques Sadellier; and the remaining English in the garrison inside were handed over to the commoners, who turned them into a big barbecue (qui en firent de grosses charbonées).

Another episode in the ages-long war between peasants and townspeople (on one side) and professional warriors.

Image: I don't know if this counts as a "cat" or not.

Update: Will McLean suggests that the movable shed below in the foreground is a "cat."

The Chronicle of the Good Duke and "modern times"

For some fans medieval history and some medieval reenactors in particular,the 14th century is "The One True Century." It certainly is flashy, but there are times I find it difficult to think of this period as a medieval one. Here's just one point: they had guns, and throughout the period that Froissart, (who was wildly popular as the historian of chivalry) wrote about, 1330-1400, they used them more and more routinely.

What follows is a rough translation of a passage in The Chronicle the Good Duke, written in the 15th century about events of the previous one. The ostensible hero of this book, Duke Louis of Bourbon, is taking part in an expedition to retake Normandy from the King of Navarre, Charles the Bad:

The Duke of Bourbon, the Constable and the Admiral went with their people to Gavre', the finest castle in Normandy, and they set up their siege, and opposed to them was Ferrandon, who had left Evreux, inside the castle; it happened one day that he went to check out powder for the cannons and artillery in one tower and when he was checking a candle fell on the power, which burned Ferrandon's whole face, of which he died and two others with him.

Image: a manuscript picture of a gun from 1400.

Muhlberger speaks at the International Congress of Medieval Studies: Kalamazoo, May 15, 2010

I have been kindly asked to give this year's Journal of Medieval Military History Lecture, which I consider quite an honor. Its title, which I even think I can live up to, is Chivalry: Military Biographies and other Tales of the Later Middle Ages.
It will take place in Fetzer 1010 at 3:30. This scheduling has a lot to be said for it, since I will undoubtedly work up a good thirst, as will Kelly DeVries, who is the commentator.

If you are coming to Kalamazoo, please consider dropping in.

To see the whole Congress schedule, go here.