It was evening when we reached Oisemont, where King Edward was now quartered, and rode into the town with our captives. We were just in time. Immediately after, the king held a council; and, having ordered the prisoners to be brought before him that they might be questioned, he addressed them courteously.
"Good fellows," said he, "do any of you know a ford on the Somme, below Abbeville, where I and my army could pass without danger? Whoever," added Edward, "will show us such a ford shall have his own liberty, and that of any twenty of his fellow-captives whom he may select."
At this point Gobin Agace, whom I had instructed, stepped forward and bent his head.
"Sire," began he, "I do know such a ford, and I promise, under peril of life, that I will conduct you to a place where you and your whole army may pass the Somme without any risk."
"Go on," said the king, inspired with a new hope by the peasant's words.
"There are certain fordable places," continued Gobin Agace, "where you may pass, twelve men abreast, twice in the day, and not have water above your knees. When the tide is in, the river is full and deep, and no one can cross it; but, when the tide is out, the river is so low that it may be passed on horseback or on foot without danger. You must, therefore, set out early, so as to be at the ford before sunrise."
"And what call you this ford?" asked the king.
"Sire," replied the peasant, "the bottom of the ford is very hard, of white gravel and stones over which all your carriages may safely pass, and thence it is called Blanche-taque."
"Friend," said the king joyfully, "if what you have told me is found to be true, I will give you and all your companions their liberty, and I will besides make you a present of one hundred nobles."
It now seemed that the safety of the King of England and his army depended on the accuracy of Gobin Agace's information as to Blanche-taque; and Edward gave orders that, at daybreak, every man should be ready, at the first sound of the trumpet, to march towards the Somme, and make the grand experiment.
CHAPTER XVII
HOW WE FORDED THE SOMME
Deep and somewhat depressing was the anxiety felt throughout the English army as the night of Wednesday closed over Oisemont; and brief, if any, was the sleep enjoyed by most of the brave islanders whose situation was so critical. Edward, who, both as king and Englishman, was almost overwhelmed with a sense of responsibility as he thought of the duty he owed to the brave men who had placed themselves in jeopardy to assert his rights, scarcely closed his eyes, but waited with impatience the break of day to make the attempt on which seemed to hang the fate of his army and his own reputation as a war-chief.
Rising at midnight, and intent on putting his fortune to the test, the king ordered his trumpets to sound; and, ere the first streak of day glimmered in the sky, he set out from Oisemont at the head of the van, and under the guidance of Gobin Agace, reached the ford of Blanche-taque just as the sun rose. But at that time the tide was so full that the idea of attempting a passage was not to be entertained; and the light of day revealed on the opposite bank a strong force, which had been posted there under one of the lords of Normandy, named Godemar du Fay, with positive orders not, on any account, to allow the English to ford the river.
In fact, Philip of Valois, on arriving at Amiens, had despatched Godemar du Fay, with a thousand horsemen, six thousand footmen, and a body of Genoese, to render the passage of the Somme absolutely impossible; and Godemar had, on his march towards Blanche-taque, been joined by a multitude of peasants and the townsmen of Abbeville, and found himself at the head of twelve thousand men, who occupied a strong position, and presented an imposing front. Edward, however, was not in the least degree daunted. On seeing how matters were he merely indicated his intention of waiting for that part of his army which had not yet come up, and then attempting the passage at all hazards – the feat on which everything now appeared to depend.
Accordingly, when the various divisions of the English reached the Somme, and the tide had in some measure fallen, the king intimated to his marshals that the hour had come for putting all to the test; and shouting, "Let all who love me follow me," he spurred his charger and dashed into the stream. The Prince of Wales and his knights followed; and the French horsemen, at the same time, left the opposite bank, and met them hand to hand.
A fierce combat now began in the water, and many gallant deeds were performed on both sides. But the French – albeit they fought well – exerted themselves in vain. The king and the prince, heading their knights, bore down all opposition; and, almost ere they had obtained a footing on the bank, the superior prowess of the English was so evident, that the French almost immediately gave way and began to disperse. Moreover, Godemar himself, after remaining for a moment aghast at what was passing before him, concluded – and not without reason – that all was lost; and, while the English were still struggling through the ford, he completely lost hope of holding his ground, gave way to panic, turned his horse's head, and headed the flight.
Having solemnly rendered thanks to God for conducting himself and his army so far in safety, Edward summoned Gobin Agace, gave him and his companions leave to depart, and, in recognition of the service he had rendered, presented him with a hundred nobles and a good horse.
The Somme being thus passed, the king, with a lighter heart, pursued his march, intending to take up his quarters at the town of Noyelle. Learning, however, that it belonged to the Countess of Aumerle, sister of his old friend, Robert of Artois, he sent to assure her that she should not be disturbed, and pursued his way till he came, on Friday, to a village in Ponthieu. Understanding that Philip of Valois was still pursuing with the intention of giving battle, Edward, no longer wishing to avoid an encounter, resolved to encamp, and await what fortune God should send.
"Let us post ourselves here," he said to his people, "for we will not go farther till we have seen our enemies. I have reason to wait for them on this spot, as I am now on the lawful inheritance of my grandmother, and I am resolved to defend it against my adversary, Philip of Valois."
Orders for encamping on the plain near the village having been issued, Edward, remembering the infinitely superior number of the army which followed the banner of his foe, and determined to take every precaution to ensure a victory, in the event of a battle, commanded his marshals to select the most advantageous ground, and to inclose a large park, which had a wood in the rear, within which to place all the baggage-waggons and horses. No time was lost in executing the king's orders; and the English, with a degree of hope unfelt for days, then set about furbishing and repairing their armour, so as to be prepared for the conflict which was not likely to be for many hours delayed.
Meanwhile, Edward, no longer avoiding but courting an encounter, sent his scouts towards Abbeville to learn whether or not there was any sign that Philip of Valois was about to take the field; and the scouts, on returning, said there was no appearance of any movement on the enemy's part. The king then dismissed his men to their quarters with orders to be ready betimes next morning; and, after giving a supper to the earls and barons who accompanied him, he retired to his oratory, and, falling on his knees before the altar, prayed to God that, in the event of combating his adversary on the morrow, he might come off with honour.
By midnight all was quiet, for thorough discipline prevailed throughout the camp, and men stretched themselves to rest; and refreshed their energies with slumber; and I, Arthur Winram, as I spread the skin of a wild beast on the grass hard by the prince's pavilion, and threw myself on the ground, and closed my eyes to dream of marvellous adventures in love and war, said to myself —
"Now let me sleep while there is yet time. Mayhap, ere the sun of to-morrow sets, I may sleep the sleep that knows no breaking."
CHAPTER XVIII
THE EVE OF BATTLE
It is well known that Robert, King of Sicily, was a great astrologer and full of deep science, and that he had often cast the nativities of Edward of England and Philip of Valois; and that, having found by his astrology and the influence of the stars