hostile
steel their only road to safety.

The danger was great. For two years the Black Prince and his army of
foragers had held France at their mercy, plundering to their hearts'
content. The year before, the young prince had led his army up the
Garonne into--as an ancient chronicler tells us--"what was before one of
the fat countries of the world, the people good and simple, who did not
know what war was; indeed, no war had been waged against them till the
prince came. The English and Gascons found the country full and gay,
the rooms adorned with carpets and draperies, the caskets and chests
full of fair jewels. But nothing was safe from these robbers. They, and
especially the Gascons, who are very greedy, carried off everything."
When they reached Bordeaux their horses were "so laden with spoils that
they could hardly move."

Again the prince had led his army of freebooters through France, but he
was not to march out again with the same impunity as before. King John,
who had just come to the throne, hastily gathered an army and marched to
his country's relief. On the night named, the Black Prince, marching
briskly forward with his small force of about eight thousand men, found
himself suddenly in face of an overwhelming array of not less than sixty
thousand of the best fighting blood of France.

The case seemed hopeless. Surrender appeared the only resource of the
English. Just ten years before, at Crecy, Edward III., in like manner
driven to bay, had with a small force of English put to rout an
overwhelming body of French. In that affair the Black Prince, then
little more than a boy, had won the chief honor of the day. But it was
beyond hope that so great a success could again be attained. It seemed
madness to join battle with such a disproportion of numbers. Yet the
prince remembered Crecy, and simply said, on being told how mighty was
the host of the French,--

"Well, in the name of God, let us now study how we shall fight with them
at our advantage."

Small as was the English force, it had all the advantages of position.
In its front were thick and strong hedges. It could be approached only
by a deep and narrow lane that ran between vineyards. In the rear was
higher ground, on which the small body of men-at-arms were stationed.
The bowmen lay behind the hedges and in the vineyards, guarding the lane
of approach. Here they lay that night, awaiting the fateful morrow.

With the morning's light the French ar