nets. The desperate valour of Du Guesclin and his
followers could not prevent utter disaster. Henry fled in panic from
the scene; Du Guesclin was again a prisoner, and the Najarilla was
reddened by the blood of the thousands of fugitive Spaniards, for,
caught as in a trap at the narrow bridge which offered the _sole_ means
of retreat, they were massacred without difficulty by the prince's
troops. The victors marched on to Burgos, and, Don Henry having fled to
France, Peter was restored with little further trouble to the Castilian
throne.

The Black Prince remained in Castile all through the summer, waiting
for the rewards which Don Peter had promised him. His army melted away
through fever and dysentery, and the prince himself contracted the
beginnings of a mortal disorder. Thus the crowning victory of his
career was the last of his triumphs. Like many other leaders of
chivalry, he had not understood the limitations of his resources, and
had dissipated on this bootless Spanish campaign means scarcely
sufficient to grapple with the spirit of disaffection already
undermining his power in Aquitaine. With shattered health and the mere
skeleton of his gallant army, he made his way back over the Pyrenees.
Henceforth misfortune dogged every step of his career.

Since 1363 the constant residence of the Black Prince and his wife, Joan
of Kent, in Gascony, had been broken only by his Castilian expedition.
It was a wise policy to send the prince to hold a permanent court in
Aquitaine, such as the land had never seen since Richard Coeur de Lion.
All that affability, magnificence, and chivalry could do to make his
domination attractive might be confidently anticipated from so brilliant
and high-minded a knight as the prince of Aquitaine. The court of
Bordeaux was as brilliant as the court of Windsor. "Never," boasted the
Chandos Herald,[1] "was such good entertainment as his; for every day at
his table he had more than four-score knights and four times as many
squires. There was found all nobleness, merriment, freedom, and honour.
His subjects loved him, for he did them much good." The sulky magnates
of the south-west, such as John of Armagnac and Gaston Phoebus of Foix,
found their bitterness tempered by the prince's courtesy, while the
boastful knights of Gascony looked forward to a career of honourable
service under the descendant of their ancient dukes. Feastings and
tournaments were not enough to win all his subjects' hearts;