so severely had the French
peasants suffered, that he could not find one who, for love, or money, or
the fear of death, would tell him what the French King was doing, or
where he was. Thus it happened that he came upon the French King's
forces, all of a sudden, near the town of Poitiers, and found that the
whole neighbouring country was occupied by a vast French army. 'God help
us!' said the Black Prince, 'we must make the best of it.'

So, on a Sunday morning, the eighteenth of September, the Prince whose
army was now reduced to ten thousand men in all--prepared to give battle
to the French King, who had sixty thousand horse alone. While he was so
engaged, there came riding from the French camp, a Cardinal, who had
persuaded John to let him offer terms, and try to save the shedding of
Christian blood. 'Save my honour,' said the Prince to this good priest,
'and save the honour of my army, and I will make any reasonable terms.'
He offered to give up all the towns, castles, and prisoners, he had
taken, and to swear to make no war in France for seven years; but, as
John would hear of nothing but his surrender, with a hundred of his chief
knights, the treaty was broken off, and the Prince said quietly--'God
defend the right; we shall fight to-morrow.'

Therefore, on the Monday morning, at break of day, the two armies
prepared for battle. The English were posted in a strong place, which
could only be approached by one narrow lane, skirted by hedges on both
sides. The French attacked them by this lane; but were so galled and
slain by English arrows from behind the hedges, that they were forced to
retreat. Then went six hundred English bowmen round about, and, coming
upon the rear of the French army, rained arrows on them thick and fast.
The French knights, thrown into confusion, quitted their banners and
dispersed in all directions. Said Sir John Chandos to the Prince, 'Ride
forward, noble Prince, and the day is yours. The King of France is so
valiant a gentleman, that I know he will never fly, and may be taken
prisoner.' Said the Prince to this, 'Advance, English banners, in the
name of God and St. George!' and on they pressed until they came up with
the French King, fighting fiercely with his battle-axe, and, when all his
nobles had forsaken him, attended faithfully to the last by his youngest
son Philip, only sixteen years of age. Father and son fought well, and
the King had already two wounds in his face, and