[6] This, as Professor Thompson rightly says, is not on the modern maps. It stood just above Nezel near the modern Chateau between that village and Falaise or “The Cliff.”
[7] So I read the meaningless rigmarole of the Clerk of the Kitchen. But I may be wrong. Professor Thompson inclines to Ecquevilly, a mile or two further on.
[8] Or six, if we read Ecquevilly. The main army halted at Flins.
[9] The low tide after the full moon occurred on that 24th of August at about half past-six o’clock in the open sea and nearer eight o’clock in the estuary, or even later; for we must allow quite seven hours’ ebb to five hours’ flow in that funnel in its old unreclaimed state.
[10] Antiq. de Pic., vol. iii. pp. 131, etc.
[11] The parish boundaries are not absolutely straight, as, after the fashion of modern French communal boundaries, they follow the corners of the oblong strips of peasant cultivation, but the aggregate of straight lines, all in one continuous direction, marks a quite unmistakable trajectory.
[12] The traveller going by rail to-day from Paris to Calais or Boulogne, may note at the second station after Abbeville a wood upon the heights to his right, and upon his left the reclaimed valley of the Somme. The next station he passes is that of Port, with the church of the village upon his right as he leaves it, and the embankment which he sees crossing the valley floor upon his left, a mile further on, marks the passage by which Edward III. and his army forced the then broad estuary of the river.
[14] Not to be confounded with the other Noyelles upon the Somme, ten miles away.
[15] It was at this moment that news was brought to King Edward of his son’s peril, and that he replied “Let the child win his spurs”—sending the messenger back empty, but having care immediately afterwards to despatch reinforcement.