THE BROKEN BRIDGES
After remaining three days in Caen, and despatching the Earl of
Huntingdon to England in command of that fleet which carried not only
the spoil of the Norman towns but a multitude of prisoners, among whom
were some sixty knights, including the Count of Tancarville and the
Count of Eu, Constable of France, King Edward led forth his army to
pursue his career of conquest.
It soon appeared that the great Plantagenet would have to encounter a
difficulty which, perhaps, he had little anticipated. At first, indeed,
the progress of the English was as easy and as uninterrupted as before
their arrival at Caen. Having taken the town of Louviers, and made
themselves masters of much of the wealth the place contained, they
marched into the county of Evreux; and Edward, with a view of drawing
near to Rouen, where he hoped to attract many Norman men-at-arms to his
standard, approached the banks of the Seine. But at this stage he found
his operations unexpectedly checked. In fact, the French, acting under
orders from Philip de Valois, whose alarm and rage knew no bounds, had
deliberately and carefully broken down the bridges to prevent Edward
crossing to the right bank; and it was not till he reached Poissy, in
the Isle of France, not more than seven leagues from Paris, that he
could see any way of overcoming the difficulty which his adversary had
thrown in his way.
The bridge of Poissy, like the others on the Seine, had been destroyed
by the French; but the beams and other parts were left by the river,
and the king resolved on its reconstruction. Accordingly, he took up
his residence for a few days in the convent of Poissy; and while his
marshals pursued their ravages almost to the gates of Paris, burning
St. Germain and St. Cloud by the way, he celebrated the feast of the
Virgin Mary, sitting at table in scarlet robes, without sleeves,
trimmed with furs and ermines.
The festival of St. Mary over, the marshals having returned, and the
bridge having been repaired, Edward again donned his mail, passed the
Seine on the 15th of August, and turned his face toward Calais, which
it was his object to reach. But after taking the town and castle of
Poix the king found himself in a still more awkward dilemma than that
from which he had freed himself; for the Somme, a broad and deep river,
presented an apparently insuperable obstacle to his progress; and he
pushed forward to Airaines, a town four leagues from Amiens, with the
melancholy conviction that his own situation and that of his army was
critical in the extreme.
Every bridge on the Somme had been broken down, and not a jot of
information as to a ford could be obtained for love or money. Before
Edward was the river, apparently impassable; behind him a mighty army
bent on his destruction; for Philip of Valois had taken the field, and
around his banner had gathered half the feudal warriors of Europe. From
Bohemia, from Germany, from Luxembourg, from Hainault, from Savoy, and
from Lorraine, they had rushed under kings and princes of fame, and
were coming on the track of the English like hunters pressing on to the
lion's death. It was vain to think of a refuge, for the invaders were
in a hostile country, with no place of sufficient strength to afford a
chance of security. But the king's heart did not fail him even in that
day of trial.
"Here," said he, on reaching Airaines, "we halt for three days; during
that time we must find or make a way to pass the Somme; and once on the
other side we will, please God and St. George, show our adversaries
how, when closely pressed, the lion can turn to bay."
But three days passed, and, in spite of all the efforts of the
marshals, matters remained as they had been, save that the enemy drew
rapidly nearer, and the English army seemed doomed; and many muttered,
"All is lost."