Michael Jones
The Black Prince
(Pegasus Books, 2018), 488 pp. $19.99
There is little doubt that Edward of Woodstock, known to posterity as the Black Prince, is one of the most celebrated figures of the Middle Ages. His sharp rise to military supremacy captivated all of Europe in the fourteenth century, and his prowess in war continues to fascinate today: winning his spurs on the battle field of Crécy aged sixteen, capturing the French king, Jean II, in spectacular fashion at Poitiers a decade later and, at thirty-six, winning his last great victory at Nájera. He was the embodiment of chivalry, a paradigm of knightly virtue and, as the chronicler Thomas Walsingham describes, ‘the hope of all Englishmen’.
These feats of arms, virtues and spectacular achievements have enchanted scholars and students alike for centuries and yet, despite the wealth of research into his life, Edward remains an enigmatic figure because of the dearth of evidence that could reveal personal insights into his character and feelings at key moments in his life. An epitome of this enigma is Edward’s soubriquet and, more specifically, the uncertainty of its origins – widely considered to reflect either the colour of his armour and accoutrements or the cruel manner in which he conducted war.
If the battle of Poitiers was the height of Edward’s career and military reputation then, according to Jean Froissart, the siege and merciless sacking of Limoges (1370) was the lowest. Long considered the nadir of the Prince’s career, his alleged massacre of the town’s inhabitants due to their treachery has been an indelible mark on the Prince’s reputation; the start of a black legacy that has perpetuated, and withstood challenge, due to a lack of evidence to prove otherwise.
To this end, Michael Jones’s work truly breaks new ground by fully restoring the Black Prince’s reputation more than six hundred years later. Overturning this slur on the Prince’s reputation is a significant moment. His careful reconstruction of events at Limoges, based predominantly on the recent discovery of personal correspondence of the Prince and archival records of a lawsuit held thirty years after the siege, vindicates Edward’s conduct by proving that the deaths of the town’s inhabitants and burning of their homes were the result of the actions of the French garrison commander, Jean Villemur, rather than any ‘cruel excesses’ of Edward. More poignantly, the Prince is shown to have acted mercifully and felt a strong sense of pride in what became his final victory.
Of course, this major biographical study of the Black Prince offers a great deal more. It builds on the work of earlier biographers, most notably of Richard Barber and David Green, and the copious historiography of the various aspects of his role as a soldier, administrator, diplomat, landlord and, above all, a prince. Jones’s comprehensive examination of the Prince’s life is based on an impressive wealth of source material held largely in local and national archives across England and France. He expertly utilises the archival records as well as obscure, and often under exploited, sources to furnish a store of fresh perspectives. Behind this detailed study, however, there are three insights that this reviewer found most striking.
The first, is the importance of the Crécy campaign (1346) as a catalyst in the Prince’s development as a military leader and in shaping his outlook on warfare. His part in the course of events leading up to the battle and his exposure to key decision-making on the tactics and strategies that were deployed so effectively, as well as the opportunities and risks of field operations, provided him with invaluable experience of how to conduct war successfully. The importance of local intelligence, for example, was demonstrated emphatically during the audacious river crossing by the English at Blanchetaque – described by Jones as ‘one of the most dramatic episodes in the history of warfare’ – and which no do doubt resonated with the Prince on future expeditions.
In the battle itself, he was given command of the division that came under the greatest pressure from the French, engaging in hard fighting at close quarters, alongside knights who would become lifelong friends, whilst almost facing capture twice. Such valiant behaviour no doubt fostered the Prince’s growing passion for chivalry. Throughout the expedition he was involved in notable acts of chivalry from both sides, but it was perhaps the fate of the old, blind king of Bohemia (who rode to his death, tied to his closest companions) that evoked those knightly ideals by which the Prince went on to cherish and live.
The second major insight is into the governance and rule of Aquitaine. On this well-trodden subject, the author builds on the work of Guilhem Pépin, utilising a range of sources to demonstrate the inclusive, open and consultative style of the Prince’s rule in the duchy. His efforts to improve trade regulations, fiscal policies and building works, on the one hand, and his personal and proactive involvement in local affairs, on the other, are shown to have been key attributes of his governance. At times some readers may consider the examples offered as more illustrative than exhaustive, and while a more systematic study of the Gascon Rolls (pertaining to the 1360s and 1370s in particular) might have substantiated further the author’s views, his analysis adequately shows that personal rulership based on fairness, prosperity and justice were high among the Prince’s objectives.
Conversely, Jones elucidates the flaws in the Prince’s character which undermined his effective governance. In particular, his inability to handle and placate the most challenging Gascon lords (such as Armagnac, Albret, or Périgueux), whose allegiance was often fragile but on which his successful rulership depended. Cultivating and managing these difficult relationships with lords who occupied the ‘swing seats’ of the duchy was essential to stable governance, but required political astuteness, flexibility and pragmatism – attributes that were displayed more by the king of France than the prince of Aquitaine. It was during the periods of tumult in the duchy, and against the myriad of challenges associated with governing the region, that these weaknesses seriously undermined Edward’s ability to rule effectively.
Thirdly, the book offers fresh perspectives on the Prince’s piety and personal relationship with his father, Edward III. On the former subject, Jones reveals the pious nature of the younger Edward and the extent to which it was central to his character in two principal ways. First, he throws light on the Prince’s motivations for undertaking the Nájera campaign (1367) – militarily spectacular, but financially and politically ruinous – on behalf of Pedro of Castile. He argues persuasively that the decision was ultimately that of Edward III, whereas the Prince himself opposed the alliance and expedition on account of his own deep religious beliefs. Jones demonstrates, through the judicious use of narrative sources and correspondence of Pedro’s court – including the imposition of a public oath by the Castilian king to make religious reforms (with regard to his life and government) – how Edward attempted to distant himself from Pedro on account of the latter’s alleged atrocities against the Church and ex-communication by the Pope. Contrary to contemporary accusations of grandiosity, pride and jealousy as the casus belli, he is shown to have harboured a deep mistrust of Pedro, with whom he negotiated commitments to religious reform before entering into a reluctant alliance. Second, the author illustrates the Prince’s deep spirituality through his close connection with St Thomas Beckett, the martyred archbishop of Canterbury. It was on the eve of the Saint’s feast day that the Prince mustered his Anglo-Gascon army ahead of the great chevauchée (1356), and his dedication to the Saint, Jones argues, was augmented by the belief that Beckett’s intercession had resulted in the great victory that followed at Poitiers. Such personal devotion is demonstrated more emphatically, perhaps, by the Prince’s choice of burial next to Beckett at Canterbury. This specific request, along with other detailed funeral arrangements, is shown to have likely been decided by Edward fourteen years before his death.
In his treatment of the Prince’s relationship with Edward III, Jones highlights skilfully the growing strain between father and son – as well as the king’s increasingly poor judgement – in the last decade of the Prince’s life and its impact on his ability to overcome the immense financial and political pressures that he faced in the duchy. By drawing on official correspondence, Jones illustrates the Prince’s personal frustrations and disappointment at the lack of support from his father at a time when it was needed most. He was, for example, affronted that the king, as lord of Aquitaine, continued to hear the appeals and spurious claims of the Gascon nobility, as part of the French-driven propaganda in the late 1360s. Notwithstanding the significant problems rooted in the king’s pursuit of a flawed economic policy to create an autarkic duchy, the fierce Gascon opposition to the introduction of ‘fouage’ (a controversial, but necessary, tax), plus the continuing ability of the Gascons to petition the English king as their sovereign overlord – the Prince’s requests for financial, political and military succour were unheeded by his father. All of which, coupled with his declining, in all likelihood, mental health, undermined the Prince’s authority and lordship at a critical stage in his life.
Also of significant interest throughout this study are the numerous comparisons and references to the king’s cousin, Henry of Grosmont, who became the first duke of Lancaster in 1351. Acting as a benchmark of success and source of inspiration for the Black Prince’s own chivalric and military pursuits, Grosmont – who built the Savoy palace with the proceeds from his spectacular victories in Aquitaine at a time when the Prince was ‘cutting his teeth’ at Crécy – remains a valuable comparison for an assessment of any great soldier or diplomat of the later Middle Ages. It is disappointing, therefore, that a more direct and fuller assessment of the influence that Grosmont (who saved his cousin’s life at Winchelsea) or the latter’s most intimate companions, such as John Chandos, Nigel Loring and James Audley, had on the Prince’s life is not made.
In exploring the main themes of this book, which is structured chronologically across eleven chapters – and accompanied by a series of illuminating images and campaign maps – the general audience should appreciate the liveliness of the narrative. Jones easily captures the imagination of the reader and throughout his pacey work offers insights into some of the key individuals that shaped the Prince’s fortunes, including his adversaries (Charles V, Bertram du Guesclin) and peers alike. In addition, there is an abundance of intriguing, and often surprising, sub-topics – such as the new dress sense set by Edward’s wife, Joan, in Aquitaine during the 1360s – that will appeal to readers. His narrative is also peppered with fascinating vignettes of obscure characters of history (e.g. Villemur) alongside more well-known figures such as John Hyde – the incorrigible Cheshire knight who castrated his servant and epitomised the dilemma faced by the Prince in his pursuit of war at the expense of good lordship at home.
It is perhaps on this latter point that the book is the most lacking. The Prince’s governance of his estates in England and Wales, and the extent to which he fulfilled the duties and obligations of his lordship, are integral to any assessment of his life. All the more, when scholarly attention has too often focused exclusively on other aspects of the Prince’s career. It is regrettable, therefore, that relatively few pages are dedicated to this important subject.
In his brief analysis of the governance of Cheshire, which Edward visited twice in the 1350s, Jones demonstrates that the restoration of peace and public order was high among the Prince’s objectives of his initial sojourn in 1353. He also shows, to some extent, the concern that the Prince held for his tenants more broadly, while highlighting the importance of the county as an invaluable source of both money and soldiers – demonstrated emphatically by the levies of 5,000 marks and £1,000 (made with the community of Cheshire in 1353 and 1358, respectively). However, despite the best intentions and, indeed, the short-term success of Edward’s twin visits which, according to his letters sent to Cheshire in advance of the visitation in 1353, were ‘to see what was behind the unrest [and] disorder…and put an end to it’, he ultimately failed in achieving lasting peace. For the public disorder and serious crime in Cheshire, which the Prince was able to redress successfully in the early 1350s, became pervasive again in the following decades and is borne out by the parliamentary petitions of the 1380s and 1390s.
Linked closely to these issues of peace, warfare and lordship is the Prince’s grant of disafforestation of the Cheshire forest of Wirral in the final week of his life. The decision to surrender his forest rights – notably as a gift and on account of the years of oppression that the local inhabitants had suffered at the hands of a band of nefarious foresters – is perhaps the single most significant act at the end of Edward’s life. It offers a rare insight into the Prince’s own assessment of his career and feelings in his last days which, Paul Booth suggests, were dominated by guilt due to the years of neglect of his loyal subjects, while pursuing wars overseas. This late act of atonement by the Prince on his death bed reinforces the deep piety and religious beliefs held dear by the Prince, whilst demonstrating the dilemma with which he wrestled most, balancing the pursuit of a chivalric lifestyle and perennial war, with the inherent duties and heavy responsibilities of his rank, position and lordship.
A far cry from the chivalric death of the king of Bohemia at Crécy, Edward’s gradual and poignant demise seems unfitting for a warrior-prince whose achievements were, on the face of it, so great. His legacy is diverse as it is rich, incorporating the diminished state of Aquitaine and lawlessness of Cheshire, places where he was most closely connected, along with the most spectacular of victories. Overall Jones’s assessment makes significant contributions to our limited understanding of a figure who remains enigmatic and renowned – but, not least, in his vindication of Edward and his actions at the siege of Limoges.
Dr Nicholas A. Gribit
Wimbledon (August 2022)
