Nations in Froissart

Froissart’s Chronicles depicts the intrigues, battles, and competition of one nation against another; it traces the Hundred Years’ War and the numerous smaller conflicts that developed between and within nations. However, national identity plays a surprisingly minor role in the work. On the whole, battles are depicted as conflicts between individuals who have a loose and often changing national affiliation rather than as struggles between nation states. In fact, the most striking division between individuals in his account is not nation, religion, or ethnicity. Instead, the deepest rift between groups is social class, but the changing makeup of armies and growing restlessness of the lower classes are creating a change in the perception of national identity.

We do get at least some sense from the author that these battles are being fought for more than the expected loot at the end. We see this through the cries of the opposing armies at Poitiers. Froissart reports that “French knights and squires fighting in groups raised their cry of ‘montjoie Saint-Denis!’ while the English shouted ‘St. George! Guyenne!’”(137). This shows that there is clearly some common concept of what Britain and France are and what ideas are associated with each nation.

But despite the fighting spirit of the armies, it does not seem that anyone is taking the battles very personally. Froissart, while saddened by the loss of life, attaches no real importance to who the triumphant army is. He reports the deaths coolly and in a detached tone that would be considered callous by modern journalistic standards. Even the victor of Poitiers, who was earlier fighting for his life, addresses his vanquished foe in a jocular fashion. “In my opinion,” the Black Prince tells John II, “you have good cause to be cheerful, although the battle did not go in your favor, for you have won the highest renown of a warrior” (144).

There is still a great deal of respect between the two nations, even after calamitous battles. After England’s king dies and is replaced by Richard, his French counterpart orders the death to be mourned “with as much pomp and ceremony as if King Edward had indeed been his cousin german” (198), and the French King, while an English captive, is provided with a fine estate and is sentenced to a stiff term of mandatory tourism. During his visit to London, “he was welcomed by people of all conditions, who came out in companies to meet him, greeting him with the greatest respect” (168). This courtesy to foreign adversaries was not limited to royalty, however, as there are many episodes where opposing fighters even of lower rank go out of their way to extend consideration and respect to their adversaries.

One example is during the siege of the Archbishop’s tower at Cormicy. After excavating the support beneath the foundation of the tower, Lord Burghersh invited the commander of a tower to see the position of the French holdout. After seeing that the English could bring down the tower, Henry de Vaulx surrenders his men and the tower. The entire transaction is carried out with the same nonchalance as a passerby reminding an absent-minded motorist to turn off his lights. Burghersh calmly guarantees the safe passage of the men from the tower to inspect the handiwork, and the French knight replies that “you [Burghersh] were quite right and it was really gentlemanly act to do what you did” (164).

Another example is Thomas Holland’s capture of Caen; the Constable and the Count of Tancarville are caught outside the gate, and are afraid of the “English, men-at-arms and archers, [who] were continuing the slaughter of the fugitives, sparing none” (75). Instead, they wanted to become Sir Thomas’ prisoners. Because they had fought together in Prussia, they called out to him by name and asked to become his prisoners. He happily does this, “not only because he could save their lives but also because their capture meant an excellent day’s work and a fine haul of valuable prisoners” (75). They would rather become the prisoners of their friends who are besieging the town than die for their nation.

The French noblemen obviously have a closer connection to their counterparts in the English army than to the English foot soldiers, but Froissart implies that the connections between the nobility in opposing nations are stronger than the connections between different classes in the same nation. This is best exemplified by the willingness of the English mercenaries in France to intervene and participate in the Jacquerie of 1358, when the traditional power structure was threatened by an insurrection of the lower classes against the aristocracy.

Instead of siding against the elite, England’s former foes who had directed the French armies in the field against the English, the Englishmen in France during the Jacquerie choose to support the established power against the rabble trying to destabilize France. “The two gallant knights decided to … take them whatever support they could, although the Captal de Buch was English” (153). Among those in the company is the Bascot de Mauleon, who later proclaimed, “I remained a loyal Englishman, and shall be as long as I live” (289). At least in the minds of Froissart and the Bascot de Mauleon, this statement is not inconsistent with his previous actions in France. He explains that

we came upon the Duchess of Normandy, the Duchess of Orleans and many other ladies, gentlefolk, whom the Jacks had surrounded in the market-place, and would have raped if God had not sent us there. It was well within their power, for there were over ten thousand of them [the Jacquerie] and the ladies were defenceless. We delivered them from that danger and killed more than six thousand of the Jacks. (281)

Even though Froissart unmistakably notes the nationality of the men assisting the French, the bonds of chivalry clearly come before national unity. Froissart also saves his most vitriolic denunciations for those rebelling against the social order. He reserves value judgments (such as calling them “evil”) for the rebels while still maintaining a veneer of respect for the French, Spanish, and even Saracens, the last of which was depicted as heroic at the battle of Montiel. In fact, Froissart doesn’t depict the Saracens as a threat to Christianity. It is the would-be revolutionaries whom he characterizes as the greatest threat to Western civilization. Likewise, he has little respect for the Germans, who don’t obey the chivalric code because

It would be better for a knight to be captured by infidels, out-and-out pagans or Saracens, than by the Germans … To tell the truth, Germans are in many ways outside all reasonable laws and it is surprising that others will associate with them. (345-6)

Again, Froissart is equating chivalry and respect for the social order with civilization.

The citizens of Ghent, who have a far deeper conviction and strength behind their battle cry of “Ghent!” (236) than the aforementioned battle cries of the British or French, take the role of heretics in this book. These citizens, after deposing their rightful count, are now fighting for their lives against an invading army of the French, who are intervening in the affairs of Flanders. Crushed by the forces of the French, Froissart offers a rare uncloaked glimpse into his opinion

After that victory, which was greatly to the honour and advantage of all Christendom and of all the gentry and nobility – for if the villains had achieved their purpose, unexampled ravages and atrocities would have been committed by the commons in rebellion everywhere against the nobly born – the citizens of Paris with their long knives became more cautious. How did they like the news of the defeat of the Flemings and the death of their leader? They were not cheered by it. Neither were the Goodmen in a number of other towns. (250)

Froissart allows himself this judgment because he views the French actions in Flanders not as an invasion but as an attempt to reassert the natural order of things. The men of Ghent engaged in untraditional warfare, for they existed outside the conventions of the time. They were not headed by a nobleman, they did not employ an army centered on a core of mounted knights, and their first priority was to protect merchants and citizens. The system that the people of Ghent were challenging, however, made it easy to forget about many of the thorny issues that nations fighting wars against each other bring.

The status quo offers combatants many options, since national associations are relatively fluid. There are multiple examples of individuals changing their affiliations: “Raymonnet de l’Epee was captured and went over to the French” (289) and the Lord of Clisson flaunts his experience of serving the English when he advises the French king (189). Froissart seems to accept the shifting allegiances without any sort of reproach, casually mentioning the Lord of Melval, “who had turned French” (175). The free companies are even more extreme, lacking any well-defined loyalty whatsoever; their nationality only serves as a convienient label. If someone’s “nationality” is so easy to change, then it seems to be a mild source of contention at best. While it you might end up fighting someone who called himself French one day, the next week he could be English or you could be French. Moreover, it seems that – from Froissart’s perspective – there is no stigma attached to changing sides; the formerly English Lord of Clisson apparently still had the ear of the King of France, so he suffered no obvious discredit. There is no mention of the ability of the lower classes to switch affiliation, but presumably there could not have been too many options to do so. While people could change sides along with their lord, there seems no obvious way for a peasant to wake up one morning and suddenly start harvesting his potatoes for the French instead of the English.

This is another facet of the differences between the rich and the poor when it comes to the struggles between nations. As we have already seen, while both noblemen and footmen are both after the same ends in a battle, namely loot, they go about their goal in different ways. Noblemen want to capture their foes, whom they can later ransom, while the foot soldiers, from Froissart’s perspective, seem to just be interested in slaughtering the enemy, razing the villages, and raping the women. We thus have a striking difference from the realities of war experienced by the leaders of Europe, who start and lead the wars, and the unfortunate individuals who do much of the fighting. Therefore, there is a divide between expected outcomes of battle for the rich and poor. At worst, the rich expect to be ransomed and eventually released, while the poor are trying to avoid death.

For the rich, conflict poses little mortal hazard. While there are certainly many cases of knights being killed in the Chronicles, Froissart’s shock implies that there was not often much death among the upper echelons of society in combat. Opposing combatants take great care to ensure that the sufficiently rich are not killed during the course of the battle. In addition to the examples of Henry de Vaulx and Count of Tancarville, the Bascon de Mauleon was “fortunate” to be captured by a cousin at the battle of Cocherel (284). Because of the close ties and identification of the nobility with the nobility of the other side, battle is as much as a social event as a struggle of life and death. For the lower classes, however, war is a more dangerous affair because they are more likely to die, death is more visible in the daily lives, and they have less information. The commoners have a much bleaker expectation of war; the lowly French soldiers in the invasion fleet “considered England already crushed and devastated, all her men killed, and her women and children brought to France and held in slavery” (305).

Likewise, when the rich do fear for their lives, the issue of nationalism appears more distinctly. After the English realize their folly in attempting to mount a campaign in Spain, they have to make their way through the formerly hostile Spanish lands. Because the leaders of the campaign were at the mercy of locals during their travels,

Most of the nobles went to Villalpando because it was garrisoned by foreign mercenaries, Bretons, French, Normans and Poitevins, under the supreme command of Sir Oliver du Guesclin, acting as Constable of Castile. The English still had more confidence in these than in the Spaniards, not without reason. (333)

It seems that as war becomes more risky, the sense of nationalism becomes stronger, which makes sense because of the support one can draw from the idea of a nation. While the personal, risk-free combat fostered a nonchalant view of battle because nobles would survive regardless of which side they were on, as battles became more deadly and less personal, the idea of a nation served to provide a new sense of purpose and protection.

The transition to riskier warfare parallels the transition in the composition of armies. Froissart emphasizes the role of archers in providing English victories, which are bloodier and more devastating than pervious battles. Consequently, we see a rise in nationalism through the book, which reaches its apex in the people of Ghent proclaiming their independence. Their army, unlike that of the traditional armies in Europe, was composed entirely of townspeople. Even though they were untrained and armed with nothing but hammers and farm implements, their armies were able to overthrow the count. “Remember how our enemies were shattered at the battle of Bruges,” exhorts their leader Phillip van Artevelde, “by ourselves keeping steady and close together, so that our ranks could not be broken” (246). Froissart describes them as marching together “like a single man” (247-8). The personal, individualistic jaunts romanticized by the Bascot de Mauleon have given way to new armies of non-professional soldiers whose survival is uncertain.

Froissart’s account of the battles of the 14th century reveals the perception of nations and national identity held by the elite. The differences betweens nations are often very slight and more a matter of personal preference without permanence or undue weight. Instead, the ties of personal association and chivalric honor bind the aristocracy across nations tighter than the bonds of patriotism bind social classes within a nation. Froissart’s revulsion at the arrogance of the commoners who attempt to claim a more substantial part in the world demonstrates a reactionary stance toward the forces that generate national fervor, however. As nations become more and more dependent on the citizen army, the role of the hoi polloi will become more important. Because these individuals do not share the same broad horizons as the aristocracy, local sentiments and nationalistic fervor begin to upset Froissart’s model of globetrotting individualistic nobility unfettered by such pedestrian concerns.