English, and that there was an appearance of flying before them, leaving open to them Paris, in which at this time there was no captain of renown. They were still more troubled when on the 29th of July they saw the arrival at the St. Denis gate of a multitude of disconsolate fugitives, some wounded and others dropping from hunger, thirst, and fatigue. When they were asked who they were and what was the reason of their desperate condition, "We are from Pontoise," they said; "the English took the town this morning; they killed or wounded all before them; happy he whosoever could escape from their hands; never were Saracens so cruel to Christians as yonder folk are." It was a real fact. The king of England, disquieted at the reconciliation between the duke of Burgundy and the dauphin and at the ill success of his own proposals at the conference of the 30th of May preceding, had vigorously resumed the war, in order to give both the reunited French factions a taste of his resolution and power. He had suddenly attacked and carried Pontoise, where the command was in the hands of the lord of Isle-Adam, one of the most valiant Burgundian officers. Isle-Adam, surprised and lacking sufficient force, had made a feeble resistance. There was no sign of an active union on the part of the two French factions for the purpose of giving the English battle. Duke John, who had fallen back upon Troyes, sent order upon order for his vassals from Burgundy, but they did not come up. Public alarm and distrust were day by day becoming stronger. Duke John, it was said, was still keeping up secret communications with the seditious in Paris and with the king of England; why did he not act with more energy against this latter, the common enemy? The two princes in their conference of July 9th, near Melun, had promised to meet again; a fresh interview appeared necessary in order to give efficacy to their reconciliation. Duke John was very pressing for the dauphin to go to Troyes, where the king and queen happened to be. The dauphin on his side was earnestly solicited by the most considerable burgesses of Paris to get this interview over in order to insure the execution of the treaty of peace which had been sworn to with the duke of Burgundy. The dauphin showed a disposition to listen to these entreaties. He advanced as far as Montereau in order to be

ready to meet Duke John as soon as a place of meeting should be fixed.

At

Duke John hesitated, from irresolution even more than from distrust. It was a serious matter for him to commit himself more and more, by his own proper motion, against the king of England and his old allies amongst the populace of Paris. Why should he be required to go in person to seek the dauphin? It was far simpler, he said, for Charles to come to the king his father. Tanneguy Duchâtel went to Troyes to tell the duke that the dauphin had come to meet him as far as Montereau, and, with the help of the lady of Giac, persuaded him to repair, on his side, to Bray-sur-Seine, two leagues from Montereau. When the two princes had drawn thus near, their agents proposed that the interview should take place on the very bridge of Montereau, with the precautions and according to the forms decided on. In the duke's household many of his most devoted servants were opposed to this interview; the place, they said, had been chosen by and would be under the ordering of the dauphin's people, of the old servants of the duke of Orleans and the count of Armagnac. the same time four successive messages came from Paris urging the duke to make the plunge; and at last he took his resolution. "It is my duty," said he, "to risk my person in order to get at so great a blessing as peace. Whatever happens, my wish is peace. If they kill me, I shall die a martyr. Peace being made, I will take the men of my lord the dauphin to go and fight the English. He has some good men of war and some sagacious captains. Tanneguy and Barbazan are valiant knights. Then we shall see which is the better man, Jack (Hannotin) of Flanders or Henry of Lancaster." He set out for Bray on the 10th of September, 1419, and arrived about two o'clock before Montereau. Tanneguy Duchâtel came and met him there. Well," said the duke, " on your assurance we are come to see my lord the dauphin, supposing that he is quite willing to keep the peace between himself and us as we also will keep it, all ready to serve him according to his wishes." "My most dread lord," answered Tanneguy, "have ye no fear; my lord is well pleased with you and desires henceforth to govern himself according to your counsels. You have about him good friends

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who serve you well." It was agreed that the dauphin and the duke should, each from his own side, go upon the bridge of Montereau, each with ten men-at-arms, of whom they should previously forward a list. The dauphin's people had caused to be constructed at the two ends of the bridge strong barriers closed by a gate; about the centre of the bridge was a sort of lodge made of planks, the entrance to which was, on either side, through a pretty narrow passage; within the lodge there was no barrier in the middle to separate the two parties. Whilst Duke John and his confidants, in concert with the dauphin's people, were regulating these material arrangements, a chamber-attendant ran in quite scared, shouting out, "My lord, look to yourself; without a doubt you will be betrayed." The duke turned towards Tanneguy, and said, "We trust ourselves to your word; in God's holy name, are you quite sure of what you have told us? have told us? For you would do ill to betray us." "My most dread lord," answered Tanneguy, "I would rather be dead than commit treason against you or any other: have ye no fear; I certify you that my lord meaneth you no evil." "Very well, we will go then, trusting in God and you," rejoined the duke; and he set out walking to the bridge. On arriving at the barrier on the castle side he found there to receive him sire de Beauveau

and Tanneguy Duchâtel. "Come to my lord," said they, "he is awaiting you." "Gentlemen," said the duke, " you see how I come;" and he showed them that he and his people had only their swords; then clapping Tanneguy on the shoulder, he said, "Here is he in whom I trust," and advanced towards the dauphin who remained standing, on the town side, at the end of the lodge constructed in the middle of the bridge. On arriving at the prince's presence Duke John took off his velvet cap and bent his knee to the ground. "My lord," said he, "after God, my duty is to obey and serve you; I offer to apply thereto and employ therein my body, my friends, my allies, and well-wishers. Say I well?" he added, fixing his eyes on the dauphin. "Fair cousin," answered the prince, "you say so well that none could say better; rise and be covered." Conversation thereupon ensued between the two princes. The dauphin complained of the duke's delay in coming to see him; "For eighteen days," he said, "you have made us await your

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coming in this place of Montereau, this place à prey to epidemic and mortality, at the risk of and probably with an eye to our personal danger." The duke, surprised and troubled, resumed his haughty and exacting tone; "We can neither do nor advise aught,' said he, "save in your father's presence; you must come thither." "I shall go when I think proper," said Charles, "and not at your will and pleasure; it is well known that whatever we do, we two together, the king will be content therewith." Then he reproached the duke with his inertness against the English, with the capture of Pontoise, and with his alliances amongst the promoters of civil war. The conversation was becoming more and more acrid and biting. "In so doing," added the dauphin, "you were wanting to your duty." "My lord," replied the duke, "I did only what it was my duty to do." "Yes, you were wanting," repeated Charles. No," replied the duke. It was probably at these words that, the lookers-on also waxing wroth, Tanneguy Duchâtel told the duke that the time had come for expiating the murder of the duke of Orleans, which none of them had forgotten, and raised his battleaxe to strike the duke. Sire de Navailles, who happened to be at his master's side, arrested the weapon; but, on the other hand, the viscount of Narbonne raised his over Navailles, saying, "Whoever stirs, is a dead man." At this moment, it is said, the mob which was thronging before the barriers at the end of the bridge heard cries of "Alarm! slay, slay." Tanneguy had struck and felled the duke; several others ran their swords into him; and he expired. The dauphin had withdrawn from the scene and gone back into the town. After his departure his partisans forced the barrier, charged the dumbfounded Burgundians, sent them flying along the road to Bray, and returning on to the bridge would have cast the body of Duke John, after stripping it, into the river; but the minister of Montereau withstood them and had it carried to a mill near the bridge. "Next day he was put in a pauper's shell, with nothing on but his shirt and drawers, and was subsequently interred at the church of Notre-Dame de Montereau, without winding-sheet and without pall over his grave."

The enmities of the Orleannese and the Armagnacs had obtained satisfaction; but they were transferred to the hearts of the