A Distant Mirror_ The Calamitous 14th Century - Barbara W. Tuchman [153]
“Sir,” responded d’Audrehem, “you see before you men who for ten years have committed many evil deeds in the realm of France, who are now on their way to fight the miscreants in Granada,” and whose leaders were conducting them there “so that they should not return again to France.” Before leaving, each was a suppliant for absolution, therefore the Holy Father was begged “to release us from all our sins and from punishment of the grievous and weighty crimes which all of us have committed since infancy, and besides, that for our voyage he would present us with 200,000 francs.”
“Changing his face,” the cardinal replied that, though their numbers were great, he thought he could assure them of absolution, but not the money. “Sir,” quickly intervened Bertrand, “we must have all that the Marshal has asked, for I tell you that there are many here who care little for absolution; they would rather have the money.” Adding that “we are leading them to where they can rightfully pillage without doing harm to Christian people,” he urged that unless their demands were met, the men could not be managed, and the longer they waited, the sorrier it would be for Villeneuve.
Hastening back over the bridge, the cardinal told the Pope first about the companies’ request for absolution, saying that he had brought their confession of crimes. “They have … committed all the evil that one could do and more than one could tell; so they beg for mercy and pardon of God and full absolution from you.”
“They shall have it,” said the Pope without hesitation, “provided that they then leave the country.” Then the additional matter of 200,000 francs was laid before him. From his window Urban could see the men-at-arms seizing livestock, chickens and geese, good white bread, and everything they could carry away. Summoning a council for advice on how to raise the money, he adopted the suggestion that it be raised from a tax on the bourgeois of Avignon, “so that the treasures of God might not be diminished.” When the money thus collected was brought to Du Guesclin by the Provost of Avignon along with the absolutions signed and sealed, Du Guesclin asked if it had come from the papal treasury. On being told that it had been contributed by the commons of Avignon, he denounced the avarice of Holy Church “very irreverently” and swore he would not accept a penny unless it came from the clergy; all the taxed money must be restored to the people who had paid it. “Sir,” said the Provost, “God grant you a happy life; the poor people will be greatly rejoiced.” The money was duly returned to the people and replaced by 200,000 francs from the papal treasury, for which the Pope quickly indemnified himself by imposing a tithe on the clergy of France.
On the English side, image-making was at work too, notably by Chandos Herald, who celebrated the Black Prince’s rule of Aquitaine at this time as “seven years of joy, peace and pleasantness,” when in fact it was the reverse. The Prince’s arrogance and extravagance were arousing in his Gascon subjects a fury of resentment and a turning toward France. Imbued with ideals of largesse and the nobility of bankruptcy, the Prince was indifferent to any balance between income and expenditure. He made up the gap by taxes which alienated the loyalty and allegiance he was supposed as viceroy to promote. “Since the time that God was born, never was open house kept so handsomely and honorably.” He fed “more than fourscore knights and full four times as many squires”—some 400 people—at his table every day, maintained a huge retinue of squires, pages, valets, stewards, clerks, hawkers, and huntsmen; held banquets, hunting parties, and tournaments, and would himself be served by none but a knight wearing golden spurs. His wife, the beauteous Joan, outdid her sister-in-law Isabella in sumptuous