fairly well organised command of Edward III., and the chaotic host of
the King of France. They show the effect upon the military profession of a
time without maps and without any properly managed system of intelligence;
and, above all, they show the overwhelming part which chance plays in all
armed conflict between forces of the same civilisation and approximately
the same aptitudes.

The situation upon Wednesday the 23rd of August (at which point we
concluded the survey of Edward III.'s great raid through Normandy, and of
his retreat down the line of the Somme) is already known to the reader,
and will be the clearer if he will look at the map upon page 28.

Edward had made a very fine march indeed, not only averaging something
like twelve miles a day, or more, but arranging for expeditions to leave
the main host during the latter part of this rapid retreat, and attempt to
force, at various points, the passages of the River Somme. We have seen
that he was compelled, if possible, to force a passage because he would
otherwise find himself shut up between the Somme and the sea, with a much
superior force cutting him off to the south. In case of defeat he would
have no line of retreat, and even in case of success, unless that success
were overwhelming, he would find himself strategically stalemated, still
caught in a trap, and still doomed to await the next onslaught of the
enemy. We have further seen that with every mile that he proceeded towards
the sea his ability to cross the Somme decreased. The river runs through
a marshy valley which, even to-day, is a mass of ponds and water meadows,
and which then was a belt of marsh. It is bounded on either side by fairly
steep banks, rising to heights of 60, 70, and 100 feet, and inland to 150,
between which the flat swamped land grows broader and broader as one
approaches the sea. At Picquigny this level belt of swamp through which
the Somme twines is quite 500 yards across. At Long Pre it is nearer 800,
below Abbeville it is 1000, and at the point whence Edward overlooked it
when he was halted at bay on the evening of that 23rd of August, it is
well over 2000 yards in width and nearer 2500.

Boismont, a village climbing the southern bank of the estuary, was the
spot on which the King had gathered the army upon the evening of that
Wednesday, and, not a day's march behind him, the most advanced mounted
men of his pursuers, with the King of France among them, were camping. The
pe