With elbows
touching--their shields slung in front, their short five-foot
spears carried in their right hands, and their maces or swords
ready at their belts, the deep column of men-at-arms moved onward.
Again the storm of arrows beat upon them clinking and thudding on
the armor. They crouched double behind their shields as they met
it. Many fell, but still the slow tide lapped onward. Yelling,
they surged up to the hedge, and lined it for half a mile,
struggling hard to pierce it.
For five minutes the long straining ranks faced each other with
fierce stab of spear on one side and heavy beat of ax or mace upon
the other. In many parts the hedge was pierced or leveled to the
ground, and the French men-at-arms were raging amongst the
archers, hacking and hewing among the lightly armed men. For a
moment it seemed as if the battle was on the turn.
But John de Vere, Earl of Oxford, cool, wise and crafty in war,
saw and seized his chance. On the right flank a marshy meadow
skirted the river. So soft was it that a heavily-armed man would
sink to his knees. At his order a spray of light bowmen was
thrown out from the battle line and forming upon the flank of the
French poured their arrows into them. At the same moment Chandos,
with Audley, Nigel, Bartholomew Burghersh, the Captal de Buch, and
a score of other knights sprang upon their horses, and charging
down the narrow lane rode over the French line in front of them.
Pages:
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481