The Dark Garret

Of a sign which was seen in the heavens, and of the storming of certain castles

                This is the History of English Affairs again. William of Newburgh finds himself utterly speechless in this episode, and this from a man that by all accounts has his head screwed on tighter than the lid of a pickle jar.

Aumale, France. Now.



Twin Suns



Nonancourt, France. Now.

In the octaves of Pentecost [16 June 1196], and in the first hour of the day, two suns appeared in the heavens; namely, the true sun and a second, its equal in size and brilliancy. Nor was it easy to discern which of them was the true one, unless by its regular course; for the other appeared to follow it at a little higher elevation -- a presage, perchance, of the evils, which ensued: and this sign I beheld with my own eyes, with some others who were with me. After we had for some time stood gazing at so unusual a spectacle in suspense and amazement, of a sudden, like men overcome with fatigue we were casting down our eyes, the counterfeit of the true sun vanished away. Nor was it long after this that, the period of the truce which had slightly cheered the harassed people being completed, the bloodthirsty rage of the princes once more broke out. To arms rushed everyone at full speed; and the provinces lately so flourishing was devastated by fire and sword.

The king of France with his forces besieged Aumale, and the king of England that castle which is called Nonancourt, which was formerly in his possession, but which some time since had been seized by the French monarch. Having quickly gained possession of it, he was besought by his people to undertake the task of repelling the enemy and raising the siege; but he paid no heed to their requests, either dreading a battle, which must have been bloody to the last degree, or trusting with confidence in the valour of his men who were gallantly defending the beleaguered fortress. Turning about, with the intention of laying waste the hostile frontiers, he studiously endeavoured to draw off the besiegers without mutual bloodshed; but persisting with stubborn determination in effecting his purpose, at last, after much labour and loss to his army, he obtained possession of the castle by surrender, and razed it to the ground. This loss but little afflicted the king of England, who was compensated for it by the possession of a more renowned castle; which, however, fell not long after once more into the hands of the French king, having been surprised at a moment when it was inadequately defended. The enmity between the princes waxing fiercer and fiercer, the task of restoring peace was undertaken in vain by the well-disposed and prudent, for they closed their ears to all peaceful counsel. For, as it is written, "They are like the deaf adder that stoppeth her ear; which will not hearken to the voice of the charmers" [Psalm 8: 4, 5.]

In this matter the cause of the king of England, who was only seeking his own right, was the more powerful, and his wrath beyond a doubt the juster, as has been shown above. Peace being thus despaired of -- since neither the one could by any reasoning be induced to give up that which he held unlawfully, nor the other to rest until his right was re-established, -- the more these proud princes chafed at one another, so much the more did the unhappy people lament; for whenever kings rage, the innocent people suffer for it.