To show the reverse of such mildness was the unhappy fate of the Black Prince, who, by his massacre of three thousand people at Limoges[147], tarnished the lustre of all his former glories. The narrative of this affair which Froissart has left us, shews that such barbarities were not so frequent in chivalric times as modern hatred of aristocratical power has represented. We may learn from our historian that the massacre at Limoges proceeded from the unhappy disposition to cruelty which at that time clouded the mind of the Prince of Wales, and not from the general principles of chivalry; for he tells us, that the knights prepared themselves to do evil, to slay men, women, and children, because they were so commanded; and he whose heart leaped for joy in describing a manly conflict, where banners and standards waved in the wind, with horses barded, and knights and squires richly armed, yet sighs over the massacre of Limoges, and says it was "great pity" to see the slaughter.[148] It was only when cities that belonged to the enemies of the church were taken, that the sword of the victorious Christian was embrued in blood to the very hilt; for pagans, Saracens, Jews, and heretics were not considered within the pale of the humane courtesies of chivalry. Frequent pauses were made in the single encounters of knighthood, for generousness was thought an essential part of bravery, and the soldier would rather vanquish by his skill than by any accidental advantage. A giant of the first enormity requested of his antagonist, Sir Guy of Warwick, a momentary respite for the purpose of slaking his thirst in a neighbouring stream. The noble knight assented to this request, and the giant, perfectly recovered from his fatigue, renewed the combat with fresh vigour. Sir Guy, in his turn, was oppressed by heat and fatigue, and requested a similar favour; but the uncourteous giant refused.[149] In a battle between the celebrated Roland and a Saracen knight, named Sir Otuel, a stroke of the former's sword cut into the brain of his antagonist's horse. The paladin of Charlemagne, with true chivalric courtesy, reined in his steed, and rested on his arms till Sir Otuel had disengaged himself from the equipments of his horse. The Saracen rallied him for want of skill in missing his gigantic frame; but on the renewal of the battle Otuel was guilty of a similar awkwardness, and conscious that his raillery might now be retorted with double force, he imitated the knightly courtesy of Roland, and waited till his foe was completely free from his fallen steed.[150] The preliminaries of a battle between the famous Oliver and a Saracen cavalier, hight Sir Ferumbras, was still more courteous, for the Christian knight assisted his foe to lace his helmet, and before they encountered, the combatants politely bowed to each other.[151]