The talk of all the garrison of Carisbrooke Castle and indeed of all the south of England, was the approaching war with France. No man doubted, and all men wished, that Henry VII. would be driven to take the part of his old benefactor, Francis, Duke of Brittany, in the defence of his duchy against the troops of France, led by the young King Charles VIII. It was so obviously the policy of England to prevent this powerful duchy being united to the French crown, which was already giving signs of the power it possessed, under the crafty rule of Louis XI., that far-seeing English statesmen like the Bishop of Ely, Master Christopher Urswick, and Sir John Edgecomb, the prototypes of England’s diplomatists, could not doubt that Henry must see the vast importance of keeping France disunited, and of maintaining such an "_imperium in imperio_" as Brittany in semi-independence. Englishmen still longed to wipe out the disgrace of their expulsion from France, and any prospect of war with that country was hailed with joy. For war meant, according to the views of the time, not an impoverishment of both contending nations, but an increase of wealth to one or the other. Every esquire or common soldier might return a rich man. If, now-a-days, young men go forth to the ends of the earth to dig for gold, or spend their young lives in isolated exile in the wilds of the far West, or the savannahs of South America, or the rainless plains of Australia, with what eagerness would they have turned to war, where strength of arm and average good fortune meant glory, social distinction, and personal wealth? The capture of a rich prisoner in war meant the payment of a large ransom; and, as a wise man-at-arms knew, the best investment of his money was in forming a troop; the capture of one rich prisoner resulted in the decrease of power to his country’s foe, as well as the personal aggrandisement of his captor. And all this brilliant prospect of success was enhanced by the scene in which the aspirant to fame displayed his prowess. Not drearily working at dull, monotonous manual labour far from the surroundings of civilisation, but in the very heart of social life carving out wealth, and fame, and name. No wonder war was popular. To the eyes of the English people there never had been a time better suited for recovering the Duchies of Normandy, Guienne, and Gascony, since their final loss, but thirty years before. France’s extremity had always been England’s opportunity; and it was through Brittany and Normandy that English men-at-arms had poured to the conquest of France--to such splendid victories as Crecy and Agincourt. As Scotland was the thorn in England’s side, so Brittany and Burgundy were the sharp points wherewith to rasp the French.