lery had any real effect is doubtful, but the noise of
the new weapon, probably firing stone shot, may have tended to add
to the _débâcle_, even if the actual loss it caused was small. The
Genoese were between two fires. In front were still the English line,
cool on the defensive, as they have always been; behind was Alençon’s
cavalry, who cared but little--in that chivalric age--for mere men on
foot. “Kill me those scoundrels,” said Philip, “for they block up our
road without any reason. “Truly,” also answered D’Alençon, “a man is
well at ease to be charged with these kind of rascals who are faint,
and fail us now when most at need;” so through the flying men rode the
French knights, whilst over the disordered crowd still fell the heavy
rain of English arrows. To add to the confusion, too, the Irish and
Welsh infantry, though they were of little value apparently otherwise,
joined in the mêlée, to slay with their long knives the dismounted
knights, whether wounded or not, “nor was any quarter given that day by
the victors.”

But when the French cavalry had cleared a way to the English line,
they were a mere crowd, and the Black Prince advanced his line to
counter attack. But there was no lack of bravery in his antagonists.
They fought brilliantly and well, and so far succeeded as to place the
prince’s command in some danger. And while the French knights assailed
the flanks of the English right wing, a sharp attack was made by
some German and Savoyard cavalry which broke through the bowmen, and
even engaged the men-at-arms in rear. To his aid, therefore, pressed
Arundel’s left wing, and soon the French second line also fell back
routed, leaving its chief behind dead. It was too late to retrieve
the disaster, and it is somewhat pitiful to read how at that moment
the poor old blind King of Bohemia turned to those around him to say,
“Sirs, ye are my men, my friends and companions, I require you to lead
me so far forward that I may strike one stroke with my sword.” Verily
there were