om the evils of anarchy.

The scene of the story we propose to tell is a small stronghold called
Longueil, not far from Compiegne and near the banks of the Oise. It was
pretty well fortified, and likely to prove a point of danger to the
district if the enemy should seize it and make it a centre of their
plundering raids. There were no soldiers to guard it, and the peasants
of the vicinity, Jacques Bonhomme (Jack Goodfellow) as they were called,
undertook its defence. This was no unauthorized action. The lord-regent
of France and the abbot of the monastery of St. Corneille-de-Compiegne,
near by, gave them permission, glad, doubtless, to have even their poor
aid, in the absence of trained soldiery.

In consequence, a number of the neighboring tillers of the soil
garrisoned the place, providing themselves with arms and provisions, and
promising the regent to defend the town until death. Hither came many of
the villagers for security, continuing the labors which yielded them a
poor livelihood, but making Longueil their stronghold of defence. In all
there were some two hundred of them, their chosen captain being a tall,
finely-formed man, named William a-Larks (_aux Alouettes_). For servant,
this captain had a gigantic peasant, a fellow of great stature,
marvellous strength, and undaunted boldness, and withal of extreme
modesty. He bore the name of Big Ferre.

This action of the peasants called the attention of the English to the
place, and roused in them a desire to possess it. _Jacques Bonhomme_ was
held by them in utter contempt, and the peasant garrison simply brought
to their notice the advantage of the place as a well-fortified centre of
operations. That these poor dirt delvers could hold their own against
trained warriors seemed a matter not worth a second thought.

"Let us drive the base-born rogues from the town and take possession of
it," said they. "It will be a trifle to do it, and the place will serve
us well."

Such seemed the case. The peasants, unused to war and lacking all
military training, streamed in and out at pleasure, leaving the gates
wide open, and taking no precautions against the enemy. Suddenly, to
their surprise and alarm, they saw a strong body of armed men entering
the open gates and marching boldly into the court-yard of the
stronghold, the heedless garrison gazing with gaping eyes at them from
the windows and the inner courts. It was a body of English men-at-arms,
two hundred strong, who