CHAPTER XX.——­THE HUNDRED YEARS’ WAR.—­PHILIP VI.  AND JOHN II.

We have just been spectators at the labor of formation of the French kingship and the French nation.  We have seen monarchical unity and national unity rising, little by little, out of and above the feudal system, which had been the first result of barbarians settling upon the ruins of the Roman empire.  In the fourteenth century, a new and a vital question arose:  Will the French dominion preserve its nationality?  Will the kingship remain French, or pass to the foreigner?  This question brought ravages upon France, and kept her fortunes in suspense for a hundred years of war with England, from the reign of Philip of Valois to that of Charles VII.; and a young girl of Lorraine, called Joan of Arc, had the glory of communicating to France that decisive impulse which brought to a triumphant issue the independence of the French nation and kingship.

As we have seen in the preceding chapter, the elevation of Philip of Valois to the throne, as representative of the male line amongst the descendants of Hugh Capet, took place by virtue, not of any old written law, but of a traditional right, recognized and confirmed by two recent resolutions taken at the death of the two eldest sons of Philip the Handsome.  The right thus promulgated became at once a fact accepted by the whole of France; Philip of Valois had for rival none but a foreign prince, and “there was no mind in France,” say contemporary chroniclers, “to be subjects of the King of England.”  Some weeks after his accession, on the 29th of May, 1328, Philip was crowned at Rheims, in presence of a brilliant assemblage of princes and lords, French and foreign; and next year, on the 6th of June, Edward III., King of England, being summoned to fulfil a vassal’s duties by doing homage to the King of France for the duchy of Aquitaine, which he held, appeared in the cathedral of Amiens, with his crown on his head, his sword at his side, and his gilded spurs on his heels.  When he drew near to the throne, the Viscount de Melun, king’s chamberlain, invited him to lay aside his crown, his sword, and his spurs, and go down on his knees before Philip.  Not without a murmur, Edward obeyed; but when the chamberlain said to him, “Sir, you, as Duke of Aquitaine, became liegeman of my lord the king who is here, and do promise to keep towards him faith and loyalty,” Edward protested, saying that he owed only simple homage, and not liege-homage—­a closer bond, imposing on the vassal more stringent obligations [to serve and defend his suzerain against every enemy whatsoever].  “Cousin,” said Philip to him, “we would not deceive you, and what you have now done contenteth us well until you have returned to your own country, and seen from the acts of your predecessors what you ought to do.”

[Illustration:  Homage of Edward III. to Philip VI.——­250]