The king positioned himself on the foredeck of his ship. He was wearing a doublet of black velvet and, upon his head, a small hat of beaver which became him well. He was that day as joyous as ever he was in his life, and ordered his minstrels to play before him an Allemagne tune which Sir John Chandos had lately brought back. For his amusement Edward made this same knight sing with his minstrels, which delighted him greatly...
Edward III sent ambassadors to the Holy Roman Emperor and other germanic princes as early as March 1337; it is as conceivable as it is unprovable that Chandos, a devotee of the Virgin, met the mystic Heinrich von Suso, who composed the song to which the Lion Rampant dance their “Old Almayn” and that this was what he sang to his king.
Even his death tells us something of his stylishness, finesse, joie de vivre and clumsiness:
Sir John Chandos, a strong and bold knight, cool in all his enterprises, advanced his banner, surrounded by his men. He wore a voluminous robe, reaching the ground, blazoned with his arms on white sarcenet, argent a pile gules, both upon his breast and his back. Thus, sword in hand, he advanced towards the enemy on foot. That morning, there had been a hoar frost, making the ground slippery, and, as he marched, his legs entangled in his robe, which was of the longest, causing him to stumble. At the same time, James de St.Martin thrust at him, striking him in the face. Sir John did not see the aim of the stroke, for he had lost the eye five years earlier to a stag while hunting on the heaths of Bordeaux. Adding to this misfortune, Sir John had not lowered his visor, so that his stumbling caused him to bear down on the lance, helping it to enter into him... That gallant knight only survived one day and night. God have mercy on his soul, for never in a hundred years was there in England a man more courteous, neither more full of every virtue and good quality than he.
His remains got lost in 1868.
