The chronicles of Enguerrand de Monstrelet, Vol. 06 [of 13] — Key Ideas to Explore

The Chronicler's Voice: Direct and Unadorned

Monstrelet's prose is notably spare. He reports that the English, after the defeat at Montargis, 'retreated to castle Landonin Nemours, and to other places under their dominion.' There is no moral commentary, no lament for the slain. The chronicler's interest lies in the sequence of events and the names of participants. When describing the death of Duke John of Brabant, he records the dying man's words—'Miserere mei Deus'—but offers no eulogy. This restraint extends to the treatment of the duchess Jacquiline, whom Monstrelet notes was 'deprived of her two husbands' in a single sentence, without elaboration. The effect is a narrative that feels both authoritative and emotionally neutral, a deliberate choice that prioritizes factual record over dramatic effect.

The Role of Named Individuals in the Narrative

Monstrelet consistently names the captains and nobles involved in each action. At Montargis, he lists the count de Dunois, sir William d'Albreth, the lords de Graville, de Villag, de Gaucourt, Estienne Vignolles (La Hire), sir Gilles de St Simon, and Gaultier Boussart. This cataloguing serves a dual purpose: it provides a precise record of who was present, and it reinforces the chronicle's function as a document of chivalric reputation. The inclusion of a guide called 'le Petit Breton'—a figure otherwise unknown—suggests that Monstrelet valued even minor participants as part of the historical fabric. The reader is given a sense of the social hierarchy of warfare, where the actions of named individuals are the building blocks of larger events.

Structure and the Management of Multiple Theaters

The volume's chapter headings reveal a chronicler juggling multiple fronts: the siege of Meulan, the triple alliance at Amiens, a combat at arms at Arras, and the siege of Crevant. Monstrelet moves between these episodes without transition, each chapter a self-contained unit. This structure mirrors the fragmented nature of the conflict itself, where events in different regions unfolded simultaneously. The chapter 'Many events briefly spoken of' and its companion 'Several events briefly touched upon' are telling: they signal that Monstrelet is consciously selecting which episodes to expand and which to condense. The reader is thus made aware of the chronicler's editorial hand, even as the prose maintains an illusion of comprehensive coverage.

The Translator's Contribution: Thomas Johnes and the English Text

Thomas Johnes's translation, published in 1810, renders Monstrelet's fifteenth-century French into a formal but readable English. The syntax is often periodic, with clauses stacked before the main verb: 'When they were arrived within half a league of the enemy's camp, they held a council as secretly as they could, and determined to attack the nearest quarters of the English.' This structure preserves the deliberative quality of the original, where actions are preceded by councils and decisions. Johnes also retains the chronicler's habit of noting divine aid—'with the aid of God they had accomplished the purpose'—without amplifying it. The translation thus mediates between the medieval world and the modern reader, offering access to Monstrelet's voice while adding a layer of early nineteenth-century English prose.

Readers approaching this volume should attend to the interplay between the chronicler's factual reporting and the translator's stylistic choices. Monstrelet's work is not a narrative in the modern sense but a compilation of records, each chapter a discrete entry. The value lies in the accumulation of detail: the names, the numbers, the precise locations. By reading with attention to what is included and what is omitted, one can discern the priorities of a fifteenth-century chronicler who saw his task as the preservation of events for future generations.

There’s something about reading Monstrelet’s precise account of those fragile early years—how alliances shifted quietly as kings passed—that makes me think of Pictures of German Life in the XVIIIth and XIXth Centuries, Vol. II. — A Closer Reading; both linger like a long, unhurried afternoon spent watching ordinary moments carry the weight of history.