If you had to pick a single ruler who embodied everything wrong and everything noble about the Middle Ages, you’d probably land on John II of France. Most people know him as "John the Good," or Jean le Bon, but don’t let the nickname fool you. It didn't mean he was a "good" king in the sense of being effective or even particularly nice. It meant he was "the brave" or "the gallant," a man who lived and breathed the code of chivalry even when it was actively burning his kingdom to the ground.
He was a disaster. Honestly, his reign was a train wreck of economic collapse, the Black Death, and a crushing defeat at the hands of the English. Yet, he remains one of the most fascinating figures in French history because he was so pathologically committed to his word.
Why John II of France was the ultimate chivalric failure
History isn't always kind to the losers. John II took the throne in 1350, right as the Hundred Years' War was heating up and the bubonic plague was busy wiping out a third of his subjects. He wasn't exactly dealt a winning hand. But John had this specific, almost stubborn obsession with the trappings of knighthood. He founded the Order of the Star because he wanted to emulate the Knights of the Round Table. He wanted the glory, the banquets, and the shiny armor.
The problem? He wasn't much of a strategist.
His obsession with "honor" often clouded his judgment. You’ve got to understand that in the 14th century, the French nobility was a mess of egos and shifting alliances. John’s biggest headache wasn't just the English; it was his own cousin and son-in-law, Charles the Bad of Navarre. Charles was basically the Littlefinger of medieval France—constantly whispering in ears, plotting assassinations, and claiming he had a better right to the throne than John did.
John’s response was usually to lose his temper. At one point, he burst into a dinner party Charles was hosting in Rouen, screamed "Let no one move if he does not wish to be dead with this sword!" and proceeded to arrest Charles and behead several of his friends on the spot. It wasn't exactly the "Good" behavior people expected, and it pushed the Navarrese straight into the arms of the English king, Edward III.
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The Battle of Poitiers and the $3 million ransom
Everything came to a head in 1356 at the Battle of Poitiers. John had the English pinned. He had the numbers. He had the high ground. But he made a series of tactical blunders—like ordering his knights to dismount and fight on foot against the English longbowmen—that turned a potential victory into a total rout.
Instead of fleeing when the battle was lost, John stayed.
He fought with a battle-axe alongside his youngest son, Philip the Bold. When he was finally forced to surrender to the Black Prince, he did it with a strange kind of dignity. This is where the story gets weird. Most kings would be devastated by capture. John? He seemed to almost enjoy the hospitality of the English court. He was treated like a royal guest rather than a prisoner. He spent his time in London hunting, hawking, and buying expensive clothes while his son, the future Charles V, tried to keep France from completely disintegrating back home.
The price for his freedom was the Treaty of Brétigny. It was staggering. The English demanded three million gold crowns and a massive chunk of French territory. To put that in perspective, three million crowns was more than the entire annual revenue of the French crown many times over.
The hostage crisis that defined a legacy
John was allowed to return to France to raise the money, leaving behind several "hostages of the lilies" to ensure he’d pay. This included his son, Louis of Anjou.
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Here is the kicker. Louis got bored of being a hostage and escaped.
Most medieval kings would have shrugged and said, "Glad he’s back." Not John II. He was genuinely horrified that his son had broken his word. He claimed that "if good faith and honor were banished from the rest of the world, they should still be found in the hearts and mouths of kings."
So, what did he do? He went back.
He voluntarily returned to London to turn himself back in as a prisoner because his honor had been stained by his son's escape. He died in England a few months later in 1364. It’s one of the most bizarrely honorable acts in the history of monarchy, and it left France in a state of absolute fiscal ruin.
What most people get wrong about "The Good"
The nickname Le Bon is deeply misunderstood. It’s not a commentary on his administrative skills. If we were grading him on economics, he’d get an F. He debased the currency so many times that merchants didn't know what a coin was worth from one week to the next. He faced the Jacquerie—a massive, bloody peasant revolt—and the "Companies" of mercenary soldiers who pillaged the countryside because they weren't being paid.
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But to the chroniclers of the time, like Jean Froissart, John was the ideal of a nobleman. He was brave in battle, he was generous to a fault, and he kept his word even when it was objectively the worst thing he could do for his country.
The lasting impact of a bankrupt king
You can't talk about John II without talking about the "Franc." The currency was actually created to pay his ransom. The word franc means "free," and the coin was struck to celebrate the king’s (temporary) release from captivity. Every time you think about French currency history, you’re looking at a legacy of John’s failure on the battlefield.
His reign also forced France to modernize its tax system. Because the ransom was so high, the Estates General had to meet more frequently, and the crown had to develop more sophisticated ways of collecting money. Out of the chaos of his captivity, the machinery of the modern French state began to hum, mostly because it had no other choice if it wanted its king back.
If you’re looking for a lesson in John’s life, it’s that personal integrity doesn't always equal political success. He was a man out of time, trying to play by the rules of a romanticized past while the world was moving toward the cold, hard reality of professional warfare and centralized bureaucracy.
How to explore the history of John II further
If you want to really get into the weeds of this era, you should check out:
- The Chronicles of Jean Froissart: He’s the primary source for the Hundred Years' War. He’s biased and loves a good story, but he gives you the "vibe" of John’s court like no one else.
- Barbara Tuchman’s A Distant Mirror: This is arguably the best book ever written about the 14th century. She uses the life of Enguerrand de Coucy to explain the world John II lived in.
- Visit the Louvre: They have the famous portrait of John II. It’s widely considered the first independent painted portrait of a Western monarch. Look at his face—he looks tired, stubborn, and perhaps a little bit confused by the world around him.
To truly understand the French monarchy, you have to look at the moments where it almost broke. John II of France was that breaking point. He was a man who chose his personal brand of honor over the stability of his nation, and while it made him a legend of chivalry, it nearly erased France from the map.
Next Steps for History Buffs:
Start by researching the Treaty of Brétigny to see the map of France John was willing to give away. Then, compare his leadership style to his son, Charles V (The Wise), who spent his entire reign undoing his father's mistakes through diplomacy and shadow warfare rather than "honorable" battles.