A Distant Mirror_ The Calamitous 14th Century - Barbara W. Tuchman [280]
Through various pressures and offers, England was working on Montfort to take action to frustrate the French invasion. At the same time he was involved with Burgundy and Berry. As a cousin of the Duchess of Burgundy, he was linked to her husband in that intense partisanship which automatically accompanied kinship through marriage in the Middle Ages. In May 1387 he had concluded a private treaty with the Duc de Berry. A common interest shared with both brothers was hostility to the Constable.
As Coucy had foreseen, the Constableship bred enemies, among whom the King’s uncles came naturally to the fore. Any occupant of the office was a figure whose power could threaten theirs, and Clisson’s personality stimulated the antagonism, the more so because of his wealth. He was making 24,000 francs a year from the Constableship, acquiring fiefs, building a palace in Paris, and lending money to everyone: to the King, the Duchesse d’Anjou, Berry, Bureau de la Rivière, and 7,500 florins in 1384 to the Pope. When debtors were late in repaying, as they usually were, he could afford to extend the loans and take a profit in larger securities and interest.
In June 1387 the one-eyed warrior was seized by Montfort in a coup as sensational as, and very similar to, the attack on Bernabò, though lacking its perfection. Montfort convoked a Parliament at Vannes which all Breton nobles were obliged to attend. During the proceedings he treated Clisson with the utmost amiability and afterward entertained him at dinner and invited him with his entourage to visit his new castle of Hermine near Vannes. Affably, Montfort conducted his guests on a tour of the building, visited the cellars to taste the wine, and on arriving at the entrance to the donjon, said, “Messire Olivier, I know no man this side of the sea who knows more about fortification than do you; wherefore I pray you mount up the stairs and give me your opinion of the construction of the tower, and if there are faults, I will have them corrected according to your advice.”
“Willingly, Monseigneur,” replied Clisson, “I will follow you.”
“Nay, sir, go your way alone,” the Duke answered, saying that while the Constable made his inspection he would converse with the Sire de Laval, Clisson’s brother-in-law. Although Clisson had no reason to trust his host, he relied on security as a guest. He mounted the stairs, and as he entered the hall at the first level, a waiting body of men-at-arms seized and imprisoned him, loading him with three heavy chains, while throughout the castle other men closed doors and gates with violent banging.
At the sound, Laval’s “blood trembled” and he stared at the Duke, who “became as green as a leaf.” “For God’s sake, Monseigneur,” Laval cried, “what are you doing? Do not harm my brother-in-law, the Constable!”
“Mount your horse and go from hence,” Montfort answered him. “I know what I have to do.” Laval refused to leave without the Constable. At that moment another of Clisson’s party, Jean de Beaumanoir, hurried up in anxiety. Montfort, who hated him too, pulled his dagger and, rushing upon him as if possessed, cried, “Beaumanoir, do you wish to be like your master?” Beaumanoir said that would honor him. “Do you wish, do you wish to be like him?” the Duke cried in a fury, and when Beaumanoir said yes, Montfort screamed, “Well then, I will put out your eye!” With shaking hand, he held the dagger before the man’s eyes, but could not plunge it in. “Go, go!” he cried hoarsely. “You shall have no better nor worse than him,” and ordered his men to drag Beaumanoir off to a prison chamber and load him, too, with chains.
Throughout the night Laval remained at the Duke’s side, staying him by pleas and persuasions from ordering Clisson to be put to death. Three times Montfort gave the order to cut off