to the front and begin the battle, in the name of God and St. Denis.’  There were there fifteen thousand of these said Genoese bowmen; but they were sore tired with going a-foot that day more than six leagues and fully armed, and they said to their commanders that they were not prepared to do any great feat of battle.  ’To be saddled with such a scum as this that fails you in the hour of need!’ said the Duke d’Alencon on hearing those words.  Whilst the Genoese were holding back, there fell from heaven a rain, heavy and thick, with thunder and lightning very mighty and terrible.  Before long, however, the air began to clear and the sun to shine.  The French had it right in their eyes and the English at their backs.  When the Genoese had recovered themselves and got together, they advanced upon the English with loud shouts, so as to strike dismay; but the English kept quite quiet, and showed no sign of it.  Then the Genoese bent their cross-bows and began to shoot.  The English, making one step forward, let fly their arrows, which came down so thick upon the Genoese that it looked like a fall of snow.  The Genoese, galled and discomfited, began to fall back.  Between them and the main body of the French was a great hedge of men-at-arms who were watching their proceedings.  When the King of France saw his bowmen thus in disorder he shouted to the men-at-arms, ’Up now and slay all this scum, for it blocks our way and hinders us from getting forward.’” Then the French, on every side, struck out at the Genoese, at whom the English archers continued to shoot.

“Thus began the battle between Broye and Crecy, at the hour of vespers.”  The French, as they came up, were already tired and in great disorder:  “howbeit so many valiant men and good knights kept ever riding forward for their honor’s sake, and preferred rather to die than that a base flight should be cast in their teeth.”  A fierce combat took place between them and the division of the Prince of Wales.  Thither penetrated the Count d’Alenccon and the Count of Flanders with their followers, round the flank of the English archers; and the King of France, who was foaming with displeasure and wrath, rode forward to join his brother D’Alencon, but there was so great a hedge of archers and men-at-arms mingled together that he could never get past.  Thomas of Norwich, a knight serving under the Prince of Wales, was sent to the King of England to ask him for help. “‘Sir Thomas,’ said the king, ’is my son dead or unhorsed, or so wounded that he cannot help himself?’ ’Not so, my lord, please God; but he is fighting against great odds, and is like to have need of your help.’  ‘Sir Thomas,’ replied the king, ’return to them who sent you, and tell them from me not to send for me, whatever chance befall them, so long as my son is alive, and tell them that I bid them let the lad win his spurs; for I wish, if God so deem, that the day should be his, and the honor thereof remain to him and to those to whom I have given him