CHAPTER LV

AN UNWELCOME DISCOVERY

It was the morning of Saturday, the 17th of September, 1356, and the Prince of Wales, having rested for the night at a village near Poictiers, mounted at nine in the morning to continue his march towards Bordeaux. Nor, though John of Valois was at that time so near, had the English any such intelligence of his approach as could be relied on. In fact, the French were so exasperated with the incursion that they would give nothing like exact information, and the scouts on whom the prince depended could give nothing but the most vague notion of the movements of the enemy. All was surmise and uncertainty. One thing only was a matter of notoriety--nobody pretended to doubt that John was in arms, and at the head of a mighty host. Still the English were undismayed; and still their dauntless young leader hoped to make good his retreat, and to save them from the peril of an encounter of which the chances were deemed altogether desperate.

In the various endeavours made, at that crisis, to obtain tidings of the foe, I had not been idle; but my efforts, like those of my neighbours, had resulted in failure, and I had lost all hope of being of service in the matter, when I was startled by the arrival of Roger Redhand, who, equipped by John Copeland for the war, made his way to the prince's army through countless dangers, and brought intelligence of such moment that I immediately repaired to the prince's tent to communicate it without loss of time. The prince, at the moment, had his hand on the mane of his black steed, and was about to mount; but on seeing me approach he paused and turned round with an inquiring look.

"My lord," said I gravely, "I bring news."

"Good or bad?" asked the prince, affecting to appear gay, though he was strongly impressed with the responsibility of his position.

"Good or bad as you take it, my lord," replied I; "but, for my part, I regard it in such a light that I would to God it were other than it is."

"Nevertheless," exclaimed the prince, "speak out frankly. Of late I have felt that there was danger in every breath of wind, and would rather know the full extent of it at once, that I may consider in what manner it may best be coped with."

"In truth, then, my lord," said I, "John, Count of Valois, who calls himself King of France, yesterday passed the bridge of Chauvigny with his four sons, twenty-five dukes and earls, upwards of six score of banners, and more than sixty thousand men; and he is now approaching Poictiers with the certainty of intercepting your march, and with the determination of making you fight or yield."

"God help us!" exclaimed the prince, "for we are, indeed, in extreme peril. But it must be boldly met, and we must consider what is best to be done under the circumstances."

Far too prudent to neglect any precautions likely to conduce to the safety of his army, the prince now summoned the Captal of Buch and Sir Eustace d'Ambreticourt, and ordered those brave warriors, with sixty men, well armed and mounted, to make observations and seek adventures; and I attended the Captal in the expedition. After riding through a wood by a rutty road, we, by accident, reached the heath which the Count of Joigny and his comrades were traversing, and found ourselves in the presence of a formidable body of enemies. Nor did they, as might have been expected, for a moment mistake us for friends. Putting on their helmets, and unfurling their banners, they fixed their lances in rest, and struck spurs to their horses.

"Now," said I, regarding the chances of an encounter as wholly desperate, "there is but one way of turning this adventure to some account, and that is, by flying and alluring them to follow us till we reach the prince."

"By the head of St. Anthony, it is well thought of!" exclaimed the Captal.

And wheeling our horses, we made for the rutty road, and dashed through the wood, while the French, shouting loudly and making a great noise, pursued with all the speed they could. But their clamour suddenly ceased when, opening our ranks, we allowed them to pass through, and they discovered how they had been deluded. It was too late, however, to think of retreat. Indeed, some of them, in their ardour, had advanced so far that they were right upon the banner of the prince ere they became aware of the stratagem. A sharp conflict ensued, and the French fought well; but many of them were slain; and the Count of Joigny, after being made prisoner, confirmed the tidings that John of Valois was at hand, and bent on giving battle.

All doubt as to the presence of the French being now dispelled, the Prince of Wales took such measures as the emergency seemed to demand. Collecting all stragglers, and issuing orders that no one should, on any pretext, advance or skirmish before the battalions of the marshals, he despatched the Captal of Buch and Sir Walter Woodland, with a select band of two hundred horsemen, of whom I was one, to observe where the French were encamped; and, pricking forward, we soon came in sight of the seemingly countless multitude that covered the plains while moving towards the city. But, numerous as they were, the Captal of Buch was in no mood to retire without giving them a taste of his steel.

"By the head of St. Anthony, gentlemen!" said he, "it would be a shame to return to the prince without performing something against the enemy."

"May I never again be embraced by my mistress," said Sir Walter Woodland, "if I do return without having unhorsed, at least, one foe!"

"By good St. George, knights and gentlemen!" said I, the thought of what Copeland would have done in such a case rushing through my mind, "it is mere waste of time to hesitate. Upon them!"

And, without further delay, we charged forward on the rear of the French with such effect that many were unhorsed; some were taken prisoners; and so much impression was made that their main army began to be in motion ere we retreated; and John of Valois, having news of the skirmish as he was on the point of entering the gates of Poictiers, reined up, turned back with his whole force, and made for the open fields, with vows of vengeance on his lips.

Meanwhile, returning to the prince, the Captal of Buch informed him as to the appearance presented by the French, and their probable numbers.

"God be our aid," said the prince calmly. "For ourselves we can only do one thing to save ourselves--and that is, to fight them in the most advantageous manner."