The King Without a Kingdom. Морис Дрюон

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СКАЧАТЬ be it! Four hours. Let me enjoy these last days of fine weather that God has granted us. I will be long enough closed up behind my curtains when the rain comes …

      So, I was telling you, Archambaud, how King John managed to make his first circle of enemies, at the heart of the kingdom itself. He resolved to make some friends, loyal supporters, men entirely devoted to him, tied to him by a new bond, who would help him in war as in peace, and who would cover his reign with glory. And to this end, at the dawn of the following year, he founded the Order of the Star, to which he gave the purpose of the raising of chivalry, the heightening of honour. This great novelty was, in fact, nothing new, as King Edward of England had already established the Garter. But King John laughed at this Order named for a trophy around a woman’s thigh. The Star would be something else altogether, quite other. There you can take note of one of John’s most predictable personality traits. He only knows how to copy, while always pretending to have thought it up himself.

      Five hundred knights, no less, that were to swear on the Holy Scriptures to never retreat from the enemy, not one foot, and never to give themselves up. So much of the sublime needed to be signalled by visible signs. As far as ostentation was concerned, John II used all the means at his disposal; and funds began to leak from his already-compromised Treasury, like wine from a barrel full of holes. To lodge the Order he had the house of Saint-Ouen fitted out. From then on, the house was known only as the Noble House, a grand house fretted and sculpted, incrusted with ivory and other precious substances, filled with magnificent furniture. I myself have never seen the Noble House, but it has been described to me. Its walls are, or rather were, hung with gold and silver cloth, or with velvet sewn with gleaming stars and golden fleurs-de-lis. For each of his knights the king had made a coat of arms, white silk, a surcoat half white, half vermilion, a vermilion hood with a golden clasp in the shape of a star. They also received a white banner embroidered with stars, and all were presented with a heavy ring of gold and enamel, to show that they were all as if married to the king … which brought smiles to some lips. Five hundred clasps, five hundred banners, five hundred rings; just figure the expense! It would seem that the king designed and discussed each piece of this glorious paraphernalia. He really believed in his Order of the Star! With as mediocre stars as his, he would have been better advised to choose a different emblem altogether.

      Once a year, according to the rule that he had himself drawn up, all knights were to meet up at a great feast, where each by turn would tell the story of his heroic deeds and the feats of arms he had accomplished over the year; two scribes would keep a register and chronicle. The Round Table would live again, and King John’s renown would surpass that of King Arthur of Britain! He developed projects as great as they were vague. There was once again talk of crusades …

      The first Assembly of the Star, convened on the Day of the Kings, 1352, was somewhat disappointing. The valiant knights-to-be didn’t have many great exploits to tell of. Time had been too short for there to be Janissaries10 cleaved in two, from the helmet down to the tree of their saddles, or virgins delivered from barbaric jails; these would be tales for another year. The two scribes commissioned to take down the Order’s chronicles in 1352 had little use for ink, unless of course the drunkenness and debauchery manifested within the Noble House counted as an exploit. Because the Noble House was the scene of the biggest drinking binge seen in France since Dagobert. The knights in their white and vermilion threw themselves upon the feast with great abandon; before dessert they were shouting, singing, screaming, blind drunk, only leaving the table to piss or throw up, then back to pick from the dishes, challenge each other fervently as to who could empty the most flagons, deserving only to be appointed Knights of Revelry. The fine golden dishes, beautifully worked for them, were crumpled or broken; they threw them across the tables like children, or crushed them with their fists. The fine open-worked and embellished furniture was reduced to debris. Some in their drunken state seemed to believe that they were already at war, as they went about plundering the very house they were in. This was how the gold and silver cloth drapery hung on the walls was stolen.

      And yet further disaster, on that same day the English seized the Citadel of Guines, which was delivered treacherously to them while the captain commanding that fortress was to be found feasting at Saint-Ouen.

      The king was greatly vexed by all this and began to wallow in the idea that his greatest schemes were, by some terrible twist of fate, doomed to failure.

      Shortly after came the first battle in which the Knights of the Star would take part, not in the far reaches of some imagined Orient, but in a wood in Lower Brittany. Fifteen of them, to prove that they were capable of great deeds other than drinking, respected their pledge to never back off and never retreat; and rather than pulling out while they could, as any sensible person would have done, they let themselves be encircled by an enemy whose numbers left them not the slightest chance. Not one of them returned to tell the tale. But the relatives of the dead knights didn’t hesitate to condemn the oath, and called into question the new king’s mental state, saying he must have a most disturbed mind to impose upon his bannerets such an insane oath, and if all of them were to abide by it, then he would soon be very much alone at his assembly in the Noble House …

      Ah! Here comes my palanquin … Would you prefer to return to the saddle? I think I will sleep a little so as to be refreshed upon arrival … But you understand now, Archambaud, why the Order of the Star rapidly came to almost nothing, and was spoken of less and less as the years went by.

       6

       The Beginnings of the King they call The Bad

      

      HAVE YOU NOTICED, my nephew, that wherever we stop for the night, be it at Limoges, Nontron or elsewhere, everyone asks us for news of the King of Navarre, as if our kingdom’s fate depended on this prince? In truth, the situation in which we find ourselves is a strange one indeed. The King of Navarre is being held prisoner in an Artois castle by his cousin the King of France. The King of France is in turn being held prisoner in a Bordeaux house by his cousin, the heir to the throne of England. The dauphin, heir to the French throne, struggles with his restless bourgeoisie and his remonstrating Estates-General in Paris. And yet it is the King of Navarre that everyone seems to be worrying about. You heard the bishop himself say: ‘They said that the dauphin was a great friend of Monseigneur of Navarre. Isn’t he going to release him?’ Good Lord! I sincerely hope not. This young man has been well advised to do nothing of the sort thus far. And I am concerned about that attempted escape that the knights of the Navarre clan put together to deliver their leader. It failed; of that we should be thankful. But there is good reason to believe that they will soon try again.

      Yes, yes, I learned a good many things during our stay in Limoges. And I am preparing to write to the pope about them as soon as we arrive in La Péruse this evening. If it was pure stupidity on the part of King John to lock up his Monseigneur of Navarre, it would be more pure stupidity on the part of the dauphin to release him today. I know of no greater meddler than the Charles they call the Bad; and they certainly couldn’t have done better if they’d tried, King John and he, through their feud, to throw France into its current misfortune. Do you know where his name comes from? From the very first months of his reign. He lost no time at all in earning it.

      His mother, Louis Hutin’s daughter, died, as I was telling you the other day, during the autumn of ’49. In the summer of 1350 Charles went to be crowned in his capital city of Pamplona, where he had never once set foot in all the eighteen years since his birth in Évreux. Wanting to make himself known, he travelled the length and breadth of his State, which required no great travelling, then he went to visit his СКАЧАТЬ