THE EVE OF BATTLE
It is well known that Robert, King of Sicily, was a great astrologer
and full of deep science, and that he had often cast the nativities
of Edward of England and Philip of Valois; and that, having found by
his astrology and the influence of the stars that, if they met in
hostile encounter, Philip would assuredly be defeated, the Sicilian
king had frankly intimated to his royal kinsman the result of his
investigations, and strongly advised him to beware of hazarding a
battle.
For years this prediction had exercised much influence on Philip's
mind; but on this occasion, the Valois, finding himself at the head of
an army so much superior in number to that of his gifted adversary,
was ready to throw all hesitation to the winds, and eager for nothing
so much as an early opportunity of coming to close conflict. Much,
therefore, was he disappointed on hearing that the English had given
him the slip and passed the Somme.
"Now," demanded Philip, turning to his marshals, "what is to be done?"
"Sire," replied they, "the tide is now in at Blanche-taque, and you can
only cross the river by the bridge of Abbeville."
"Well, then, let us turn toward Abbeville," said Philip, and his
marshals gave orders to that effect.
On reaching Abbeville, Philip took up his quarters in the monastery
dedicated to St. Peter. He was still hopeful of overtaking and crushing
his foe, though perhaps not quite so secure of victory, in the event
of a battle taking place, as he had been twelve hours earlier. At
all events, he deemed it prudent to await such additions to his army
as were likely to arrive; and from Thursday to the evening of Friday
he remained impatiently at the monastery awaiting the coming of his
friends and intelligence of his foes.
Wearily passed the hours, and more and more impatient grew Philip. At
length, however, as that August day was drawing to a close, the French
marshals rode into Abbeville with tidings that the King of England had
encamped on a plain in Ponthieu, and that the English army appeared
bent on remaining to try conclusions. Perhaps Philip now began to
entertain some doubts as to the result, and to call to memory the
prediction of the King of Sicily, which, in his rage and desire for
vengeance, he had, for a time, forgotten. But, in any case, it was
clear that he had gone too far to recede; and, come what might, he
resolved to push forward and fight for the crown which he wore.
So Philip of Valois entertained the princes and great lords of his
army at supper; and, next morning, after hearing mass, he set out in
pursuit of the invaders who had wrought him so much mischief and caused
him so much trouble. As he left Abbeville the rain fell in torrents,
and the march was long and fatiguing. But, still undaunted, Philip
pushed forward, and, about noon, came in sight of the English, who
were seated on the ground on a large plain, not far from a village
which boasted of a windmill. Hitherto obscure, this village was, from
that day, to be widely known to fame as the place where the great
Plantagenet, after being so keenly hunted, turned to bay.
It was Cressy.