dauntedly up and fell into their ranks. That of the Prince was the first to do so, whose archers were formed in the manner of a portcullis or harrow, and the men at arms in the rear. The Earls of Northampton and Arundel, who commanded the second division, had posted themselves in good order on his wing, to assist and succor the prince if necessary.

You must know that these kings, earls, barons and lords of France did not advance in any regular order, but one after the other, or any way most pleasing to themselves. As soon as the

king of France came in sight of the English, his blood began to boil, and he cried out to his marshals, "Order the Genoese forward, and begin the battle, in the name of God and St. Dennis. There were about sixteen thousand Genoese crossbowmen; but they were quite fatigued, having marched on foot that day six leagues, completely armed, and with their cross-bows. They told the constable they were not in a fit condition to do any great things that day in battle. The Earl of Alençon hearing this, said, 'This is what one gets by employing such scoundrels, who fall off when there is any need of them. During this time a heavy rain fell, accompanied by thunder and a very terrible eclipse of the sun; and before this rain a great flight of crows hovered in the air over all those battalions, making a loud noise. Shortly afterwards it cleared up, and the sun shone very bright; but the Frenchmen had it in their faces, and the English on their backs. When the Genoese were somewhat in order, and approached the English, they set up a loud shout in order to frighten them; but they remained quite stiff, and did not seem to attend to it. They then set up a second shout, and advanced a little forward; but the English never moved. They hooted a third time, advancing with their cross-bows presented, and began to shoot. The English archers then advanced one step forward, and shot their arrows with such force and quickness, that it seemed as if it snowed. When the Genoese felt these arrows, which pierced their arms, heads, and through their armor, some of them cut the strings of their cross-bows, others flung them on the ground, and all turned about and retreated quite discomfited. The French had a large body of men-at-arms, on horseback, richly dressed, to support the Genoese. The king of France, seeing them thus fall back, cried out, Kill me those scoundrels, for they stop up our road without any reason.' You would then have seen the above mentioned men-at-arms lay about them, killing all they could of these runaways.

The English continued shooting as vigorously and quickly as before; some of their arrows fell among the horsemen, who were sumptuously equipped, and killing and wounding many,

made them caper and fall among the Genoese, so that they were in such confusion they could never rally again. In the English army there were some Cornish and Welshmen on foot, who had armed themselves with large knives: these advancing through the ranks of men-at-arms and archers, who made way for them, came upon the French when they were in this danger, and falling upon earls, barons, knights and squires, slew many, at which the king of England was afterwards much exasperated. The valiant king of Bohemia was slain there. He was called Charles of Luxembourg; for he was the son of the gallant king and Emperor, Henry of Luxembourg: having heard the order of the battle, he enquired where his son, the lord Charles, was: his attendants answered that they did not know, but believed he was fighting. The king said to them, 'Gentlemen, you are all my people, my friends and brethren-at-arms this day, therefore, as I am blind, I request of you to lead me so far into the engagement that I may strike one stroke with my sword.' The knights replied they would directly lead him forward; and in order that they might not lose him in the crowd, they fastened all the reins of their horses together, and put the king at their head, that he might gratify his wish, and advanced towards the enemy. The lord Charles of Bohemia, who already signed his name king of Germany, and bore the arms, had come in good order to the engagement; but when he perceived that it was likely to turn against the French, he departed, and I do not well know what road he took. The king, his father, had rode in among the enemy, and made good use of his sword; for he and his companions had fought most gallantly. They had advanced so far that they were all slain; and on the morrow they were found on the ground, with their horses all tied together."

The Earl of Alençon advanced in regular order upon the English, to fight with them, as did the Earl of Flanders in another part. These two lords with their detachments coasting as it were, the archers, came to the prince's battalion, where they fought valiantly for a length of time. The King of France was eager to march to the place where he saw their banners displayed, but there was a hedge of archers before him. He had that day made a present of a handsome black horse to Sir John of Hainault, who had mounted on it a knight of his, called Sir John de Fasselles, that bore his banner: which horse ran off with him, and forced his way through the English army, and, when about to return, stumbled and fell into a ditch, and severely wounded him; he would have been dead, if his page had not followed him round the battalions, and found him unable to rise, he had not, however, any other hindrance than from his horse; for the English did not quit the ranks that day to make prisoners.

The page alighted and raised him up, but he did not return the way he came, as he would have found it difficult from the crowd. This battle, which was fought on the Saturday between La Broyes and Crecy, was very murderous and cruel; and many gallant deeds of arms were performed that were never known. Towards evening many knights and squires of the French had lost their masters, they wandered up and down the plain attacking the English in small parties; they were soon destroyed; for the English had determined that day to give no quarter, or hear of ransom from any one.

Early in the day, some French, Germans, and Savoyards had broken through the archers of the prince's battalion, and had engaged with the men-at-arms; upon which the second battalion came to his aid, and it was time, for otherwise he would have been hard pressed. The first division, seeing the danger they were in, sent a knight in great haste to the King of England, who was posted upon an eminence near a windmill. On the knight's arrival, he said, "Sir, the Earl of Warwick, the Lord Stafford, the Lord Reginald Cobham, and the others who are about your son, are vigorously attacked by the French; and they entreat that you would come to their assistance with your battalion, for, if their numbers should increase, they fear they I will have too much to do." The King replied, "Is my son dead, unhorsed, or so badly wounded that he cannot support himself?" "Nothing of the kind, thank God," rejoined the knight, "but he is in so hot an engagement that he has great need of your help." The King answered, "Now, Sir Thomas, return back to those that sent you and tell them from me, not to send again for me this day, or expect that I shall come, let what will happen, as long as my son has life; and say that I command them to let the boy win his spurs; for I am determined, if it please God, that all the glory and honor of this day shall be given to him, and to those into whose care I have entrusted him." The knight returned to his lords, and related the king's answer, which mightily encouraged them, and made them repent they had ever sent such a message.

It is a certain fact, that Sir Godfrey de Harcourt, who was in the prince's battalion, having been told by some of the English that they had seen the banner of his brother engaged in the battle against him, was exceedingly anxious to save him, but he was too late, for he was left dead on the field, and so was the Earl of Aumarle, his nephew. On the other hand, the Earls of Alençon and Flanders were fighting lustily under their banners, and with their own people; but they could not resist the force of the English, and were then slain, as well as many other knights and squires that were attending on or accompanying

The Earl of Blois, nephew to the King of France, and the Duke of Lorraine, his brother-in-law, with their troops, made a gallant defence; but they were surrounded by a troop of English and Welch, and slain in spite of their prowess. The Earl of St. Pol, and the Earl of Auxerre were also killed, as well as many others. Late after vespers the King of France had not more about him than sixty men, every one included. Sir John of Hainault, who was of the number, had once remounted the king, for his horse had been killed under him by an arrow; he said to the king, "Sir, retreat whilst you have an opportunity, and do not expose yourself so simply: if you have lost this battle, another time you will be the conqueror." After he had said this, he took the bridle of the king's horse and led him off by force, for he had before entreated of him to retire. The king rode on until he came to the castle of La Broyes, where he found the gates shut, for it was very dark. The king ordered the governor of it to be summoned: he came upon the battlements, and asked who it was that called at such an hour. The king answered, "Open, open, governor; it is the fortunes of France." The governor hearing the king's voice, immediately descended, opened the gate and let down the bridge. The king and his company entered the castle; but he had only with him five persons, Sir John of Hainault, the Lord Charles of Montmorency, the Lord of Beaujea, the Lord of Aubigny, and the Lord of Montford. The king would not bury himself in such a place as that, but having taken some refreshments, set out again with his attendants about midnight, and rode on, under the direction of guides who were well acquainted with the country, until, about day-break, he came to Amiens, where he halted. This Saturday the English never quitted their ranks in pursuit of any one, but remained on the field, guarding their position, and defending themselves against all who attacked them. The battle was ended at the hour of vespers."

With these extracts we take a reluctant farewell of the courtly Canon of Chimay, saying heartily to our readers, one and all, as Gray said to his friend, "I rejoice you have met with Froissart: he is the Herodotus of a barbarous age: had he but had the luck of writing in as good a language, he might have been immortal."

CARLYLE'S PAST AND PRESENT.

PAST AND PRESENT, by THOMAS CARLYLE. Boston: Charles C. Little and James Brown. 1843. pp. 209, octavo.

WITHIN a few years Mr. Carlyle has acquired a popularity on both sides of the Atlantic, which, considering the neglect under which his first productions were suffered to lie, could scarcely have been anticipated by the most enthusiastic of his admirers. SASTOR RESARTUS, a book whose merits have been as much overrated by one set of critics, as its defects have been unduly magnified by others, introduced him favorably to the American public: and his subsequent works, consisting of a so-called History of the French Revolution; a spirited pamphlet on Chartism, a series of lectures on Heroes and the Heroic in History, and several volumes of translations from German romantic literature, have been eagerly welcomed and loudly praised by our press. In spite of the mannerism of his style, and the continual and often painful recurrence of the same trains of thought, and even of the same favorite imagery and modes of expression, his disquisitions on some of the most important practical questions which can occupy the human mind in an age like this, have been found to be pregnant with much salutary truth, and modelled upon bold and comprehensive views of the sacred rights of man, and his consequent duties and responsibilities.

All who are familiar with the elaborate essays embraced in his four volumes of Miscellanies, will be disposed to accede to him a power of critical discrimination, accompanied by a facility of illustration in certain ranges of literary atchievement which is rarely equalled. The masterly critique upon the character and genius of Voltaire is sufficient evidence of this, and constitutes an effort upon which the most ambitious journalist might be content to risk his reputation. Scarcely inferior to this, are the vivid, living portraitures of Johnson and Burns, of Cromwell and Napoleon, the gems of his "Heroes and Heroic in History." The bold sophisms and brilliant paradoxes put forth in that singular, but skilful combination of phantasmagoric pictures, which he has seen fit to