Then, as he glanced towards the panic-stricken foemen, the squire observed a strong body of French mounted troops charging down, as he supposed, to the support of the ill-fated crossbowmen. The ground trembled beneath the feet of the cavalry, as with loose rein and wildly brandished weapons their riders pressed forward in a headlong charge.
But to Raymond's surprise, instead of deploying right and left of the fugitives, the Frenchmen cut right through their Genoese mercenaries, slashing at the miserable men with sword and axe.
In this tangled web horsemen fell in scores. Genoese and Frenchmen fought each other with the madness of fury and self-preservation, and all the time the hail of English arrows swept down knight and crossbow-man in indiscriminate slaughter.
To add to the confusion, the bombards on the right of the Prince's division opened fire, and amid clouds of thick, suffocating smoke the heavy stone balls went crashing through the dense masses of the foe, and, for the first time in warfare, it was seen that thrice-tempered armour was useless before the power of artillery.
Then a trumpet sounded from the English ranks, and the hail of arrows ceased as by magic. There was a loud discordant shout, the trampling of hundreds of feet, and through the now rapidly clearing smoke Raymond saw the Welsh and Irish levies dash out upon the demoralised foe. With their long knives they threw themselves on the Frenchmen, and, in the heat of the fight, all thought of quarter was ignored, and knights, worth a rich ransom, were slaughtered as they lay helpless on the ground with as little compunction as if they were peasants.
So intently was Raymond engaged in watching the struggle before him that for the time being he did not notice what was happening on the flanks of the first division, till suddenly the hoarse voice of the Earl of Oxford was heard shouting, "Stand to your arms, fair knights and squires! The French are upon us!"
For the first time on that memorable day a desperate hand-to-hand conflict was about to take place.
[CHAPTER XX]
HIS LIFE FOR HIS FOE
UNSHEATHING his sword and holding his shield firmly on his left arm, the squire followed the example of the knights and men-at-arms, and hastened towards the left flank.
Already the French cavalry, led by the Duke of Alençon, had, by sheer weight of numbers, forced their way to within striking distance of their foes, and the long rows of white-coated archers, who formed the first rank of the defence, were swept aside by the rush of the mounted French knights, for at close quarters the bowmen were useless against the lances, swords, and axes of their mailed antagonists.