CHAPTER XIV.
CRESSY.
The surprise of the French army at finding themselves in the presence ofthe English was so great that the first line recoiled in confusion.Those marching up from behind imagined that they had been alreadyengaged and repulsed by the English, and the disorder spread through thewhole army, and was increased by the common people, who had crowded tothe field in immense numbers from the whole country round to see thebattle and share in the plunder of the English camp.
From King Edward's position on the rising ground he could see theconfusion which prevailed in the French ranks, and small as were hisforces, he would probably have obtained an easy victory by ordering asudden charge upon them. The English, however, being dismounted, butsmall results would have followed the scattering of the great host ofthe French. The English army therefore remained immovable, except thatthe soldiers rose from the ground, and taking their places in the ranks,awaited the onslaught of the enemy.
King Philip himself now arrived on the field, and his hatred for theEnglish led him at once to disregard the advice which had been given himand to order the battle to commence as soon as possible.
The army was divided into four bodies, of which Philip commanded one,the Count D'Alencon the second, the King of Bohemia the third, and theCount of Savoy the fourth. Besides these were a band of fifteen thousandmercenaries, Genoese cross-bowmen, who were now ordered to pass betweenthe ranks of cavalry and to clear the ground of the English archers, whowere drawn up in the usual form in which they fought--namely, in veryopen order, line behind line, the men standing alternately, so that eachhad ample room to use his bow and to fire over the heads of those infront. The formation was something that of a harrow, and, indeed,exactly resembled that in which the Roman archers fought, and was calledby them a quincunx.
The Genoese had marched four leagues beneath a hot sun loaded with theirarmor and heavy cross-bows, and they remonstrated against the order,urging that they were in no condition to do good service without somerepose. The Count D'Alencon, furious at their hesitation, ordered themup, but as they advanced a terrible thunderstorm, with torrents of rain,broke over the armies, and wetting the cords of the cross-bows renderedmany of them unserviceable. At length the cross-bowmen were arranged infront, while behind them were the vast body of French cavalry, and theorder was given for the battle to begin.
The Genoese advanced with loud shouts, but the English archers paid noattention to the noise, but waited calmly for the attack. At this momentthe sun, now approaching the west, shone out brightly between the cloudsbehind the English, its rays streaming full in the faces of the French.The Genoese were now within distance, and began to discharge theirquarrels at their impassive enemies, but as they opened fire the Englisharchers drew their bows from the cases which had protected them from therain, and stepping forward poured their arrows among the Genoese. Thecross-bowmen were smitten as with a storm, numbers were struck in theface and other unprotected parts, and they were instantly thrown intoconfusion, and casting away their cross-bows they recoiled in disorderamong the horsemen behind them.
Philip, passionate and cruel as ever, instead of trying to rally theGenoese, ordered the cavalry behind them to fall upon them, and themen-at-arms at once plunged in among the disordered mass of thecross-bowmen, and a wild scene of carnage and confusion ensued, theEnglish archers continuing to pour their unerring arrows into the midst.The Count D'Alencon, who was behind, separated his division into twobodies, and swept round on one side himself, while the Count of Flandersdid the same on the other to attack the Prince of Wales in more regulararray. Taking a circuitous route, D'Alencon appeared upon a risingground on the flank of the archers of the Black Prince, and thus,avoiding their arrows, charged down with his cavalry upon the eighthundred men-at-arms gathered round the Black Prince, while the Count ofFlanders attacked on the other flank.
Nobly did the flower of English chivalry withstand the shock of theFrench, and the prince himself and the highest nobles and simplemen-at-arms fought side by side. None gave way a foot.
In vain the French, with impetuous charges, strove to break through themass of steel. The spear-heads were cleft off with sword and battle-ax,and again and again men and horses recoiled from the unbroken line. Eachtime the French retired the English ranks were formed anew, and asattack followed attack a pile of dead rose around them. The CountD'Alencon and the Duke of Lorraine were among the first who fell. Theyoung Count of Blois, finding that he could not ride through the wall ofsteel, dismounted with his knights and fought his way on foot toward thebanner of the Prince of Wales. For a time the struggle was desperate,and the young prince, with his household knights, was for a timewell-nigh beaten back.
Walter, fighting close beside the prince, parried more than one blowintended for him, and the prince himself slew the Count of Blois, whosefollowers all fell around him. The Count of Flanders was also slain, andconfusion began to reign among the assailants, whose leaders had nowall fallen. Philip himself strove to advance with his division into thefight, but the struggle between the Genoese and the men-at-arms wasstill continuing, and the very multitude of his troops in the narrow anddifficult field which the English had chosen for the battle embarrassedhis movements.
Charles of Luxembourg, King of the Romans, and afterward Emperor ofGermany, son of the old King of Bohemia, with a large body of German andFrench cavalry, now assailed the English archers, and in spite of theirflights of arrows came to close quarters, and cutting their way throughthem joined in the assault upon the men-at-arms of the Black Prince.Nearly forty thousand men were now pressing round the little body, andthe Earls of Northampton and Arundel moved forward with their divisionsto his support, while the Earl of Warwick, who was with the prince,dispatched Sir Thomas of Norwich to the king, who still remained withhis powerful reserve, to ask for aid.
"Sir Thomas," demanded the king, "is my son killed, overthrown, orwounded beyond help?"
"Not so, sire," replied the knight, "but he is in a rude fight, and muchneeds your aid."
"Go back, Sir Thomas, to those who sent you, and tell them from me thatwhatsoever happens they require no aid from me so long as my son is inlife. Tell them also that I command them to let the boy win his spurs,for, God willing, the day shall be his, and the honor shall rest withhim and those into whose charge I have given him."
The prince and those around him were filled with fresh ardor when theyreceived this message. Each man redoubled his efforts to repel theforces that were incessantly poured down upon them by the French. On allsides these pressed around them, striving desperately, but ever in vain,to break through the solid ranks of the English. The French men-at-armssuffered, moreover, terribly from the attacks of the Welsh infantry.These men, clad in thick leather jerkins, nimble of foot, accustomed toa life of activity, were armed with shortened lances and knives, andmingled fearlessly among the confused mass of French cavalry, creepingbeneath the horses' bellies, standing up when they got a chance, andstabbing horses and men with their knives and pikes. Many were trampledupon or struck down, but numbering, as they did, six thousand, theypervaded the whole mass of the enemy, and did terrible execution, addingin no small degree to the confusion caused by the shower of arrows fromthe archers within the circle of the men-at-arms. The instant a Frenchknight fell, struck from his horse with a battle-ax or arrow, or by thefall of a wounded steed, the half-wild Welsh were upon him and slew himbefore he could regain his feet.
The slaughter was immense. The Count of Harcourt, with his nephew theCount D'Aumale and his two gallant sons, fell together, and at lastCharles of Luxembourg, seeing his banner down, his troops routed, hisfriends slain, and the day irreparably lost, and being himself severelywounded in three places, turned his horse and fled, casting off his richemblazoned surcoat to avoid recognition. In the mean time PrinceCharles' father, the veteran King of Bohemia, once one of the mostfamous warriors of Europe, but now old and blind, sat on horseback at alittle distance from the fight; the knights around him
told him theevents as they happened, and the old monarch soon saw that the day waslost. He asked them for tidings of his son Charles of Luxembourg, butthey were forced to reply that the banner of the King of the Romans wasno longer in sight, but that, doubtless, he was somewhere engaged in the_melee_.
"Lords," said the old man, "you are my vassals, my friends, and mycompanions, and on this day I command and beseech you to lead me forwardso far that I may deal one blow of my sword in the battle."
His faithful friends obeyed him, a number of knights arranged themselvesaround him, and lest they should lose him in the fight they tied theirhorses together by the bridles and charged down into the fray. Advancingdirectly against the banner of the Prince of Wales, the blind monarchwas carried into the midst of the thickest strife. There the littlegroup of knights fought gallantly, and after the battle was over thebodies of the king and his friends were found lying together, their deadhorses still linked by the bridles.
During this terrible battle, which had been raging since three o'clock,Philip had made strenuous efforts to aid his troops engaged in the frontby continually sending fresh bodies to the assault. It was now growingdark, terror and confusion had already spread among the French, and manywere flying in all directions, and the unremitting showers of Englisharrows still flew like hail among their ranks. As the king made his wayforward, surrounded by his personal attendants, to take part himself inthe fight, his followers fell thick around him, and his horse was slainby an arrow. John of Hainault, who had remained by his side during thewhole day, mounted him upon a fresh horse and urged him to fly, as theday was lost. Philip, however, persisted, and made his way into the_melee_, where he fought for some time with extreme courage, untilalmost all around him were slain, the royal standard-bearer killed, andhimself wounded in two places. John of Hainault then seized his bridle,exclaiming, "Come away, sire, it is full time; do not throw your lifeaway foolishly; if you have lost this day you will win another," and soalmost forced the unwilling king from the field. Philip, accompanied bythe lords of Montmorency, Beaujeu, Aubigny, and Mansault, with John ofHainault and sixty men-at-arms, rode to the Castle of Broye, and therehalted for a few hours. At midnight he again set out, and in the morningarrived safely at Amiens.
The Black Prince held his station until night without yielding a singlestep to all the efforts of the French. Gradually, however, theassailants became less and less numerous, the banners disappeared, andthe shouts of the leaders and the clang of arms died away, and thesilence which prevailed over the field at once announced that thevictory was complete and the enemy in full flight. An immense number oftorches were now lighted through the English lines, and the king,quitting for the first time his station on the hill, came down toembrace his gallant son. Edward and his host rejoiced in a spirit ofhumility over the victory. No songs of triumph, no feastings ormerriment were permitted, but a solemn service of the Church was held,and the king and his soldiers offered their thanks to God for thevictory he had given them. The English army lay all night under arms,and a number of scattered parties of the French wandering about in thedarkness entered the lines and were slain or taken prisoners.
The dawn of the next morning was thick and foggy, and intelligencecoming in that a large body of the enemy were advancing upon them, theEarls of Northampton, Warwick, and Norfolk, with five hundredmen-at-arms and two thousand archers, went out to reconnoiter, and camein the misty twilight upon an immense force composed of the citizens ofBeauvais, Rouen, and some other towns, led by the Grand Prior of Franceand the Archbishop of Rouen, who were approaching the field.
By some extraordinary accident they had not met any of the fugitivesflying from Cressy, and were ignorant that a battle had been fought.The English charged them at once. Their advance-guard, consisting ofburghers, was easily overthrown. The second division, which was composedof men-at-arms, fought bravely, but was unable to withstand the chargeof the triumphant English, and was completely broken and defeated. Thegrand prior was killed and a vast number of his followers slain orcaptured. During the whole of the morning detached parties from Edward'sarmy scoured the country, dispersing and slaughtering bands of Frenchwho still remained together, and toward night the Earl of Northamptonreturned to the camp with the news that no enemy remained in thevicinity that could offer a show of resistance to the English force.
It is said that a far greater number of French were killed upon thesecond day than upon the first. This can be accounted for by the factthat on the first day but a small portion of the English army wereengaged, and that upon the second the English were fresh and vigorous,and their enemies exhausted and dispirited.
The greater number of the French nobles and knights who fell died intheir attempt to break through the Black Prince's array. Besides theKing of Bohemia, nine sovereign princes and eighty great nobles werekilled, with twelve hundred knights, fifteen hundred men-at-arms, andthirty thousand foot; while on the English side only three knights and asmall number of men-at-arms and infantry were killed. The body of theKing of Bohemia and those of the other great leaders were carried insolemn pomp to the Abbey of Maintenay. Edward himself and his sonaccompanied them as mourners.
On the Monday following Edward marched with his army against Calais, andsummoned the town to surrender. John of Vienne, who commanded thegarrison, refused to comply with the demand. The fortifications of thetown were extremely strong and the garrison numerous, and Edwardperceived that an assault would be very unlikely to succeed, and wouldentail great loss, while a repulse would have dimmed the luster of thesuccess which he had gained. He therefore determined to reduce it byfamine, and the troops were set to work to build huts. So permanentlyand strongly were these constructed that it seemed to the enemy thatKing Edward was determined to remain before Calais even should he haveto stay there for ten years.
Proclamations were issued in England and Flanders inviting traders toestablish stores and to bring articles of trade of all kinds, and in ashort time a complete town sprang up which was named by Edward New-Townthe Bold. The English fleet held complete possession of the sea, cuttingoff the besieged from all succor by ship, and enabling abundant suppliesfor the army to be brought from England and Flanders. Strong partieswere sent out in all directions. The northern provinces of France werescoured, and the army was amply provided with necessaries and evenluxuries.
After the first terrible shock caused by the crushing defeat of Cressy,King Philip began at once to take measures for the relief of Calais, andmade immense efforts again to put a great army in the field. Heendeavored by all means in his power to gain fresh allies. The youngCount of Flanders, who at the death of his father at Cressy was sixteenyears of age, was naturally even more hostile to the English than thelate prince had been, and he strove to win over his subjects to theFrench alliance, while Philip made them magnificent offers if they wouldjoin him. The Flemings, however, remained stanch to the Englishalliance, and held their prince in duress until he at last consented tomarry the daughter of Edward. A week before the date fixed for thenuptials, however, he managed to escape from the vigilance of his guardswhen out hawking, and fled to the court of France.
In Scotland, Philip was more successful, and David Bruce, instead ofemploying the time given him by the absence of Edward with his armies indriving out the English garrisons from the strong places they still heldin Scotland, raised an army of fifty thousand men and marched across theborder into England plundering and ravaging. Queen Philippa, however,raising an army, marched against him, and the Scotch were completelydefeated at Neville's Cross, fifteen thousand being killed and theirking himself taken prisoner.
Walter's conduct at the battle of Cressy gained him still further thefavor of the Black Prince. The valor with which he had fought wasconspicuous even on a field where all fought gallantly, and the princefelt that more than once he would have been smitten down had notWalter's sword interposed. Ralph too had fought with reckless bravery,and many French knights and gentlemen had gone down before thetremendous blows of his he
avy mace, against which the stoutest armoravailed nothing. After the battle the prince offered to make him anesquire in spite of the absence of gentle blood in his veins, but Ralphdeclined the honor.
"An it please you, Sir Prince," he said, "but I should feel morecomfortable among the men-at-arms, my fellows. In the day of battle Itrust that I should do no discredit to my squirehood, but at other timesI should feel woefully out of my element, and should find naught for myhands to do; therefore, if it so pleases your royal highness, I wouldfar rather remain a simple man-at-arms."
Ralph did not, however, refuse the heavy purse which the prince gavehim, although indeed he, as well as all the soldiers, was well suppliedwith money, so great were the spoils which the army had gathered in itsmarch before Cressy, and which they now swept off in their raids amongthe northern provinces of France.
One evening Walter was returning from a banquet at the pavilion of thePrince of Wales, with Ralph as usual following at a little distance,when from a corner of the street a man darted suddenly out and struck adagger with all his force between his shoulders. Well was it for Walterthat he had taken Geoffrey's advice, and had never laid aside the shirtof mail, night or day. Fine as was its temper, two or three links of theouter fold were broken, but the point did not penetrate the second fold,and the dagger snapped in the hand of the striker. The force of thesudden blow, however, hurled Walter to the ground. With a loud cry Ralphrushed forward. The man instantly fled. Ralph pursued him but a shortdistance and then hastened back to Walter.
"Are you hurt, Sir Walter?" he exclaimed.
"In no way, Ralph, thanks to my shirt of mail. Well, indeed, was it forme that I was wearing it or I should assuredly have been a dead man. Ihad almost begun to forget that I was a threatened man; but I shall beon guard for the future."
"I wish I had followed the fellow," Ralph said. "I would not have slainhim could I have helped it, but would have left it for the hangman toextort from him the name of his employer; but, in truth, he struck sohard, and you fell so straight before the blow, that I feared the mailhad given way, and that you were sorely wounded if not killed. You haveoft told me that I was over-careful of you, but you see that I was notcareful enough; however, you may be assured that if another attempt bemade those who attempt it shall not get off scot-free. Do you think oflaying a complaint before the provost against him you suspect?"
"It would be useless, Ralph. We may have suspicion of the man from whomthe blow came, but have no manner of proof. It might have been done byany ruffian camp-follower, who struck the blow only with the hope ofcarrying off my chain and purse. The camp swarms with such fellows, andwe have no clew which could lead to his detection, unless," he added,stooping and picking up a piece of steel which lay at his feet, "thisbroken dagger may some day furnish us with one. No; we will say naughtabout it. Sir James Carnegie is not now in camp, having left a weeksince on business in England. We exchange no words when we meet, but Iheard that he had been called away. Fortunately the young prince likeshim not, and I therefore have seldom occasion to meet him. I have nodoubt that he credits me with the disfavor in which he is held by theprince; but I have never even mentioned his name before him, and theprince's misliking is but the feeling which a noble and generous hearthas, as though by instinct, against one who is false and treacherous. Atthe same time we must grant that this traitor knight is a bold andfearless man-at-arms; he fought well at La Blanche Tache and Cressy, andhe is much liked and trusted by my Lord of Northampton, in whosefollowing he mostly rides; 'tis a pity that one so brave should have sofoul and treacherous a heart. Here we are at my hut, and you can sleepsoundly to-night, Ralph, for there is little fear that the fellow, whohas failed to-night, will repeat his attempt for some time. He thinks,no doubt, that he has killed me, for with a blow so strongly struck hewould scarce have felt the snapping of the weapon, and is likely enoughalready on board one of the ships which ply to and fro from England onhis way to acquaint his employer that I am removed from his path."
The next morning Walter mentioned to the Black Prince the venture whichhad befallen him, and the narrow escape he had had of his life. Theprince was extremely exasperated, and gave orders that an inquisitionshould be made through the camp, and that all men found there not beingable to give a good account of themselves as having reasonable andlawful calling there should be forthwith put on board ship and sent toEngland. He questioned Walter closely whether he deemed that this attackwas for the purpose of plunder only, or whether he had any reason tobelieve that he had private enemies.
"There is a knight who is evilly disposed toward me, your highness,"Walter said; "but seeing that I have no proof whatever that he had ahand in this affair, however strongly I may suspect it, I would fain,with your leave, avoid mentioning his name."
"But think you that there is any knight in this camp capable of so foulan action?"
"I have had proofs, your highness, that he is capable of such an act;but in this matter my tongue is tied, as the wrong he attempted was notagainst myself, but against others who have so far forgiven him thatthey would fain the matter should drop. He owes me ill-will, seeing thatI am aware of his conduct, and that it was my intervention which causedhis schemes to fail. Should this attempt against me be repeated it canscarce be the effect of chance, but would show premeditated design, andI would then, both in defense of my own life, and because I think thatsuch deeds should not go unpunished, not hesitate to name him to you,and if proof be wanting to defy him to open combat."
"I regret, Sir Walter, that your scruples should hinder you from at oncedenouncing him; but seeing how grave a matter it is to charge a knightwith so foul a crime, I will not lay stress upon you; but be assuredthat should any repetition of the attempt be made I shall take thematter in hand, and will see that this caitiff knight receives hisdeserts."
A short time afterward Walter accompanied the prince in an excursionwhich he made with a portion of the army, sweeping the French provincesas far as the river Somme. Upon their way back they passed through thevillage of Pres, hard by which stood a small castle. It was situate someforty miles from Calais, and standing upon rising ground it commanded avery extensive view over the country.
"What say you, Sir Walter?" the prince said to the young knight who wasriding near him. "That castle would make a good advanced post, and amessenger riding in could bring news of any large movements of theenemy." Walter assented.
"Then, Sir Walter, I name you its chatelain. I shall be sorry to loseyour good company; but the post is one of peril, and I know that you areever longing to distinguish yourself. Take forty men-at-arms and sixtyarchers. With that force you may make shift to resist any attack untilhelp reaches you from camp. You may be sure that I shall not be slack inspurring to your rescue should you be assailed."
Walter received the proposal with delight. He was weary of the monotonyof life in New Town, and this post, in which vigilance and activitywould be required, was just to his taste; so, taking the force named bythe prince, with a store of provision, he drew off from the column andentered the castle.