Meanwhile the king of England did not fight; he had not even donned his helmet, while watching the battle from a little eminence. The French cavalry were closely pressing the Prince of Wales; the Earl of Northampton demanded reinforcements from the king. "Is my son dead or overthrown, or so wounded that he cannot help himself?" asked Edward of the messenger. "No, my lord, but he is in the thick of the fray and is in great need of your assistance." "Return to those who sent you," retorted the king, "and tell them not to send a request again while my son is still alive, but to let the youth win his spurs; for I intend, if it please God, that this day may be his." And thus was it done.
The French were exhausting themselves in vain; their numbers and their valor had not been able to triumph over the disorder and the unskilful arrangement of the troops. Their best warriors lay stretched upon the field of battle, and nightfall approached. John of Hainault seized the bridle of the horse upon which the King of France was seated, and dragged him away from the struggle. They rode along in silence; five horsemen only followed the king. They arrived at the gate of a castle, but the drawbridge was raised. "Open," said Philip, "it is the unfortunate King of France who entreats you." After resting for a while he resumed his journey towards Amiens, while the English, who had not pursued the enemy, were gathering together by torchlight around the tent of King Edward. The latter had just left the hill and advanced towards the prince, whom he embraced. "My gallant son," he said, "God has endowed you with great perseverance; you are my son, and have loyally justified your title; you are worthy to hold land." The dead being interred, King Edward marched towards Calais, to which he laid siege on the 31st of August. The town was strong, and the garrison was known to be resolute. The English proceeded to build a town of wood around the ramparts. King Philip had recalled from Guienne the Duke of Normandy, thus relieving the Earl of Derby, who was closely besieged in Bordeaux, and Sir Walter de Manny, who was defending Aiguillon. These two knights had nothing more at present to do than to rejoin King Edward before Calais. They did not know how long a time was destined to elapse before the surrender of that town.
The position of the King of France was becoming serious; he endeavored to divert the attention of the enemy. His ally David, King of Scotland, had promised to attempt an invasion of England; the moment seemed propitious; all the English commanders and knights were beyond the sea. At the end of September, 1246, David marched therefore into the county of Cumberland with a considerable army, pillaging and sacking everything on their way. Queen Philippa had already levied some troops, and at Newcastle, where she was stationed, she was better informed of the movements of the Scots than the latter were of her preparations for resistance. The English army assembled in the park of Auckland, unknown to King David. No commander-in-chief had been appointed; but four prelates and as many barons marched at the head of the troops, "and the good dame, Queen Philippa, prayed and admonished them to do their duty well," says Froissart. As she was returning to Newcastle, on the 17th of October, Douglas, the Lord of Liddesdale, who was coming back from a plundering expedition, fell among the English, whose presence he did not suspect, and with difficulty cut his way through them. The King of Scotland immediately drew up his forces on the plain of Nevil's Cross. He fought valiantly; but, having been twice wounded, he was made a prisoner by a plain esquire, named John Copeland, who conducted him to his castle. The Scottish earls and barons lay stretched upon the field of battle, or had fallen alive into the hands of their enemies. The queen was rejoicing at Newcastle; she sent to John Copeland, commanding that the King of Scotland should be given up to her. "I will surrender him to no man or woman except my lord, the King of England," replied the worthy esquire; "and be not uneasy upon his account, for I intend to keep him so carefully that I will render good account of him." The queen was not quite satisfied, however, and with the good news of victory the reply of the stubborn esquire arrived at Calais. King Edward had great joy in the good fortune that God had bestowed on his people, and he immediately summoned John Copeland to come to him at Calais. The esquire placed his prisoner in a place of safety, "in a strong castle, on the borders of Northumberland and Galloway, and proceeded to Calais, to the quarters of the king."
"Welcome," said Edward, on seeing Copeland, "my faithful esquire, who by your valor have made a prisoner of our adversary the King of Scotland." "Sire," said John, kneeling, "God in His great goodness has so willed it that He has delivered the King of Scotland into my hands, for He can, if it please Him, bestow His grace upon a poor esquire as well as upon a great nobleman. And, sire, do not bear me any ill-will if I did not immediately surrender him to the queen, for it is to you that I have sworn allegiance." The king smiled. "But you will now take your prisoner, John," he said, "and take him to my wife." And he loaded with presents the esquire, who returned well content. King David was promptly lodged in the Tower of London.
The war still continued in Brittany. Charles of Blois had been made a prisoner before Roche-Derrien, on the 18th of June, 1347, and had joined King David in his captivity; while Joan the Lame was maintaining the struggle against the allies of the Count of Montfort, who were still directed by her mother, the Countess Joan, and against the sudden attacks of Joan de Bellville, the widow of Oliver de Clisson. This women's war was neither the least skilful nor the least sanguinary. Edward III. was still before Calais.
The town was reduced to the last extremity. Twice already had the non-combatants been expelled. Sheltered on the first occasion by King Edward, these unhappy wretches, driven out of the famine-stricken town, were dying of hunger and misery between the two camps. John of Vienne, a valiant knight in command at Calais, had sent information to King Philip of the desperate situation in which he was placed. "Remember, sire, that there remains nothing uneaten in the town; not a dog, a cat, or a horse; so that of provisions we can find none in the place—unless we eat the flesh of our people." Philip of Valois unfurled the oriflamme, and summoned his knights round it, to march to the deliverance of his good town of Calais.
The rejoicing was general inside the town; the banners of the French army were visible flying in the air, and their white tents glistened in the sun on the Mount of Sangatte. The citizens already thought that their deliverance had been effected. But the King of England had taken his precautions; the road along the downs was protected by English vessels, well furnished with archers. The road across the marshes was defended by the Earl of Derby, who was stationed on the bridge of Nieulay, which the king had fortified with towers. The quartermasters of the French army, after having examined the ground, informed the king that it was impossible to cross it. "Thereupon King Philip sent emissaries to the King of England, to pray and require him to choose with them a spot whereon one might fight, and thither to come and confront the King of France."