In the early 1370s, Louis I of Anjou, the second son of the French king, commissioned a vast series of tapestries, now on display at the Château d’Angers, representing the Book of Revelation. In the middle of the narrative is a group of men on horseback wearing distinctively English armour; one wears pheasant feathers in his helmet – another mark of English soldiery. As for the Apocalpyse itself, its horsemen were led by Edward III.
Edward’s 50-year reign dominated 14th-century England. But, as we see in Sceptred Isle, Helen Carr’s gripping narrative account of the period, Edward himself was dominated by the dream of taking the French crown. It led him to launch two great invasions, one in 1346 and the other in 1359. It is not hard to understand why the French experience of English armies was something like the end of world. According to one chronicler: ‘The English destroyed, burned and plundered many little towns, capturing or even killing the inhabitants.’ Cernay was reduced to ashes. The people of Orly were massacred in their parish church. There were many Cernays and Orlys. But Edward failed to take Reims, where the kings of France had been crowned for centuries. He never attempted Paris.
Between Edward’s two invasions both countries – and the whole continent – were ravaged by another apocalyptic horror in the shape of the Black Death. In the space of a couple of years at the end of the 1340s it killed around half the population of Europe. In London, they buried 200 corpses a day; in St Albans there weren’t enough living to bury the dead.
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in