With an exhausted treasury threatening the people with taxes, with the plague devastating the country, and with war imminent, it is small wonder that France was in a discouraged state. John tried to hearten his subjects by establishing subsidies and by giving festivals. By these means he won his nickname of “the Good,” but they were the cause of such impoverishment that when the English war broke out again he found himself in embarrassment for lack of money. Twice he summoned the States General, but his preparations were seriously hindered. His judgment as a general was no better than as a ruler. Inflated by some trifling successes he scorned the Black Prince’s proposals of peace and then allowed himself to be beaten ignominiously by a force much smaller than his own in one of the world’s great battles, that of Poitiers. John’s personal courage was magnificent. Although several divisions of his army were withdrawn, including those headed by his three older sons, he fought valiantly in a hand-to-hand fight that waxed ever brisker as his opponents saw that they were dealing with some man of prominence. His fourteen-year-old son, Philip, stayed at his father’s side helping him by constant cries of warning. As a reward for his fidelity John afterwards gave him the province of Burgundy, a gift which proved to be a sore mistake for the happiness of France. After the battle of Poitiers a burgher of Paris vowed a candle as long as the city to Notre Dame de Paris. It was to burn always. When the city grew so large as to make such a mass of wax impracticable the offering was changed (1605) to a silver lamp, and it may be seen now before the graceful figure which stands at the south side of the entrance to the choir of the cathedral. John was gently treated in England and his presence was something of a social event. When he was held at a ransom and was returned to France while two of his sons, the dukes of Anjou and of Berri, were sent across the Channel to serve as hostages for the payment of the ransom, the king’s departure was a matter of regret. His welcome in France was equally warm. “Wherever he passed the reception he experienced was most honorable and magnificent,” says Froissart. “At Amiens, he stayed until Christmas was over, and then set out for Paris, where he was solemnly and reverently met by the clergy and others, and conducted by them to his palace; a most sumptuous banquet was prepared, and great rejoicings were made; but, whatever I may say upon the subject, I never can tell how warmly the King of France was received on return to his kingdom, by all sorts of people. They made him rich gifts and presents, and the prelates and barons of the realm feasted and entertained him as became his condition.”