Stories from English History Part 10

'We will go in,' he said calmly to his men, 'and beat, or be beaten.'

It was too late to fight that day; and the English lay down within sight of the enemy.

Early in the morning the English king set his army in order of battle.

King Edward himself was to command one division; two of his earls another; and the eager young prince, a.s.sisted by the Earls of Warwick and Oxford, was given the charge of a third.

When the troops were all drawn up in fighting array, the king mounted his horse and rode from rank to rank, cheering and encouraging the men and their leaders.

'He spoke so sweetly,' says an old writer, 'and with so good a countenance and merry cheer, that all such as were discomfited took courage in seeing and hearing him.'

By the time King Edward had gone round the whole army it was about nine o'clock, and the sun was s.h.i.+ning warm and bright upon what was soon to be the field of battle. The king sent orders that his men were to 'eat at their ease and drink a cup'; and the whole army sat down upon the gra.s.s and breakfasted. Then they returned to their ranks again and lay down, each man in his place, with his bow and helmet beside him, waiting until the enemy should be ready to begin the fight.

In the meanwhile the French army was approaching. By the time the king had brought his men within reach of the English lines, the bright morning had clouded over. The day had become dark and threatening, and soon the thunder began to growl, and the lightning to flash overhead.

The frightened birds flew screaming for shelter, and the clouds broke and fell in a heavy shower upon the French king's army.

One of his captains advised King Philip not to fight until the morrow.

The king gave the order to halt; but the men in the rear, not understanding the message, pressed forward and forced the others to advance, thus throwing the army into confusion.

Finding that it was too late to put off the battle, King Philip ordered to the front a great body of Genoese cross-bowmen, whom he had hired to fight against the English.

By this time the rain was over and the sun had come out; but it shone full in the faces of the cross-bowmen, and prevented them from seeing the enemy. Their bows, too, had become wetted with the rain, and the strings were slackened.

When they heard the king's order the Genoese moved forward; 'then,'

says the historian, 'they made a great cry to abash the English; but they stood still and stirred not for all that. A second and a third time the Genoese uttered a fell cry--very loud and clear, and a little stept forward; but the English removed not one foot.'

At last the Genoese sent a shower of arrows into the ranks of the calm, silent English.

The English received the shower quietly; then their reply was prompt.

A quick movement went along the line of archers; the ten thousand men advanced one pace, and 'their arrows flew so wholly together and so thick that it seemed as if it snowed.'

The Genoese required time to wind up their cross-bows before they could re-load; and in the meantime the English longbowmen shot so continuously that the ranks of the Genoese broke in terror and fled.

Still the archers sent their deadly hail upon the French army, while a number of Welsh and Cornish soldiers, armed with long knives, crept in under the horses and stabbed them, so that both horse and rider fell heavily to the ground. The confusion was rendered still more dreadful by means of a weapon which King Edward used for the first time in battle; small 'bombards,' or cannon, as they were afterwards called, 'which with fire threw little iron b.a.l.l.s to frighten the horses.'

While the battle raged with great fury on both sides, King Edward was sending out his orders from a windmill from which he could overlook the progress of the fight.

Presently a messenger came from the Earl of Warwick, beseeching the king to send aid to his son, the Black Prince.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Warwick's messenger asking for aid to be sent to the Black Prince.]

'Is my son killed?' asked the king.

'No, Sire, please G.o.d,' replied the messenger.

'Is he wounded?'

'No, Sire.'

'Is he thrown to the ground?'

'No, Sire, not so; but he is very hard pressed.'

'Then,' said the king, 'go back to those that sent you, and tell them that he shall have no help from me. Let the boy win his spurs; for I wish, if G.o.d so order it, that the day may be his.'

The messenger carried back these words to the prince, who fought harder than ever, and drove off his a.s.sailants.

For hours the battle raged, both sides fighting with great fury and determination. On the French side was the old blind King of Bohemia, who remained somewhat apart, mounted upon his warhorse, listening to the din and noise of the battle in which his son was engaged.

After some time he heard a French knight approaching, and asked him how the fight was going.

'The Genoese have been routed,' was the reply; 'and your son is wounded.'

Then the king called to him two of his va.s.sals and said to them, 'Lords, you are my va.s.sals, my friends, and my companions; I pray you of your goodness to lead me so far into the fight that I may at least strike one blow with my sword.'

Then the two knights drew up, one on each side of their aged king; and all three fastened their bridle-reins together and rode into the fray.

'The king,' says the old story-teller, 'struck one blow with his sword; yea, and more than four; and fought right valiantly'; until he and his knights disappeared under the heaving, struggling ma.s.s of men, never to rise again.

In the meantime the King of France was fighting as hard as any man on the field. Twice he was wounded, and once he had his horse shot under him; but after having had his wounds bound up, he mounted again and rode back into the fight. Many times he led his men in furious charges against the English; but nothing could overcome the coolness and determination of the English forces.

At last the French were vanquished, and had to retire from the field.

Their sacred banner, the Oriflamme, or Flame of Gold, was nearly captured, but a brave French knight broke his way through the crowd which was struggling around it, cut the banner from its staff with his sword, and winding it round his body, rode away with it in safety.

The French king, refusing to leave the field, was dragged away, almost by force, by some of his followers.

After riding for some miles, they came to a castle and knocked at the gate.

'Who is there?' shouted the gate-keeper.

'It is the Fortune of France,' was the reply.

Then the lord of the castle came down himself and opened the gates, and let in his weary, broken-hearted king.

Night was closing in, and the English were lighting their watch-fires upon the battlefield, when King Edward rode forward to meet the son who had fought so bravely. Taking the lad in his arms, he kissed him, and he told him that he had acted n.o.bly, and worthy of the day and of his high birth.

Next morning the king and the prince went to look at the slain, and found among them the old King of Bohemia, lying dead between his two knights. Beside the king lay his s.h.i.+eld and helmet, bearing his device, three ostrich feathers, with the motto 'ich dien.'

King Edward gave orders that the old hero should be borne from the field and buried with royal honours; and then he and the prince moved away in a very thoughtful mood.

'Truly,' said Prince Edward, 'I think that was well said; "ich dien,"

meaning that a king's duty is to serve his country.'

'As thou hast served it well this day, my son,' replied his father, 'wilt thou take this device for thine own?'

So the prince took for his crest the three ostrich feathers with the motto, in remembrance of his gallant enemy, and the device is borne by the Princes of Wales to this day.

Ten years later, the Black Prince had become a man, and the war was not yet at an end. King Philip was dead, and had been succeeded by his son John, a brave and chivalrous king.