rom the field of Crecy to form the siege of Calais. No measure
could have been more popular with the English merchant class, for Calais
was a great pirate-haven and in a single year twenty-two privateers from
its port had swept the Channel. But Edward was guided by weightier
considerations than this. In spite of his victory at Sluys the superiority
of France at sea had been a constant embarrassment. From this difficulty
the capture of Calais would do much to deliver him, for Dover and Calais
together bridled the Channel. Nor was this all. Not only would the
possession of the town give Edward a base of operations against France, but
it afforded an easy means of communication with the only sure allies of
England, the towns of Flanders. Flanders seemed at this moment to be
wavering. Its Count had fallen at Crecy, but his son Lewis le Male, though
his sympathies were as French as his father's, was received in November by
his subjects with the invariable loyalty which they showed to their rulers;
and his own efforts to detach them from England were seconded by the
influence of the Duke of Brabant. But with Edward close at hand beneath the
walls of Calais the Flemish towns stood true. They prayed the young Count
to marry Edward's daughter, imprisoned him on his refusal, and on his
escape to the French Court in the spring of 1347 they threw themselves
heartily into the English cause. A hundred thousand Flemings advanced to
Cassel and ravaged the French frontier.

The danger of Calais roused Philip from the panic which had followed his
defeat, and with a vast army he advanced to the north. But Edward's lines
were impregnable. The French king failed in another attempt to dislodge the
Flemings, and was at last driven to retreat without a blow. Hopeless of
further succour, the town after a year's siege was starved into surrender
in August 1347. Mercy was granted to the garrison and the people on
condition that six of the citizens gave themselves into the English king's
hands. "On them," said Edward with a burst of bitter hatred, "I will do my
will." At the sound of the town bell, Jehan le Bel tells us, the folk of
Calais gathered round the bearer of these terms, "desiring to hear their
good news, for they were all mad with hunger. When the said knight told
them his news, then began they to weep and cry so loudly that it was great
pity. Then stood up the wealthiest burgess of the town, Master Eustache de
St. Pierre by name, and spake