The Hundred Years War and the Battle of Crecy

 

The Battle of Crecy

 

Today is the anniversary of the Battle of Crecy, it taking place in 1346 as part of the Hundred Years War (a later developed label that would have mystified its participants and contemporaries). One of the three defining battles of that conflict, the others being Poitiers (1356) and Agincourt (1415), the English decisively prevailed at each. Still they lost the Hundred Years War.

 

The English army, under the direct command of King Edward III and including amongst its nobles his son Edward the Prince of Wales (a/k/a the Black Prince, so named because of the blackened steel of his armor), had landed in the Cherbourg Peninsula at St. Vaast de Hogue and proceeded to march across Normandy. St. Lo and Caen, both known to students of the D-Day invasion of 1944, were in Edward’s path of pillage; Caen was captured and looted for five days. The spoils of war were loaded into Edward’s fleet and dispatched back to England with orders to collect more men and equipment and meet him at Le Crotoy at the mouth of the Somme.

 

Continuing the ongoing pillage , just short of Rouen they turned south towards Paris, but did not proceed past Poissey (20 miles from Paris) as his army there crossed the Seine, the crossings further north having been destroyed in an effort to deprive Edward of an opportunity to proceed further north. Still, the complete failure of the French forces was feared, a general levy was ordered, and plans for the defense of Paris were prepared. 

 

Having crossed the Seine, Edward’s forces moved generally north-east towards their goal of Le Crotoy, crossing the Somme river at Blanchetaque where they defeated a French defensive force on the river’s north bank. After maneuvering between the forces the French under the command of King Phillip VI thought they had pinned down the English forces, thereby forcing a direct battle. Be careful what you ask for.

 

Determining the number of combatants in medieval warfare is notoriously difficult with many ranges being up to 100%. Crecy is no exception; the English forces are estimated to have been between a low of 7000 and a high of 15,000. Jonathan Sumption, author of a monumental five-volume history of the Hundred Years War (links below), put the English forces at between 7000 and 10,000. Regardless they were clearly outnumbered; the French forces were somewhere in the range of 20,000 to 30,000.

 

Edward picked the site of the battle, positioning his line uphill from the  expected advance of the French. In preparation his forces set up some primitive small cannon and as well dug holes throughout the hill to interrupt any cavalry charge. Likely the archers were protected by sharpened stakes driven into the ground at an angle, especially useful against cavalry. Once in place the English settled into position and rested, awaiting the expected French attack. The Black Prince commanded one of the forward elements; Edward III was in the rear with a reserve force.

 

While the why is less than clear, it is clear that French discipline failed and what could have been an organized attack by an overwhelming force became a string of uncoordinated actions without a unifying plan or mutual support. Initially a mercenary force of Italian crossbow men, largely if not exclusively from Genoa engaged, but without the heavy wooden shields they needed for protection while reloading; a crossbow could fire maybe twice a minute during which time a Welsh bowman could unleash ten arrows at significantly longer range. In addition, it rained, and the softened ground made it more difficult to reload the crossbows. The crossbow men retreated, pushing against the other forces moving forward who thought them cowards and killed many of them. Meanwhile the forward edge of the French forces came into range of the English bows.

 

Having pushed their way to the front, French mounted knights and men at arms initiated a cavalry charge. Uphill. Across ground recently rained upon and containing trenches and holes dug by the English to impede a cavalry charge. It went as well as you might expect. While likely most of the mounted soldiers had some plate armor, particularly helmets, padded tunics and chain mail were still predominant, and at 200/250 feet a longbow’s arrow might penetrate plate and even if it didn't the recipient would have felt the blow. Even more vulnerable were the unarmored horses, and each one that fell brought down not only its rider but as well impeded the horses behind it. No doubt wounded and terrified horses ran thru the French forces further shattering its cohesion. The few French forces who survived the cloud of arrows to reach the English line were dispatched in hand to hand combat.

 

That was just the first wave. As more French forces arrived they organized and launched further calvary charges. Again uphill. Again over wet ground, now impeded not just by English dug trenches and holes but by the bodies of dead and injured men and horses and against the force of retreating men and horses. Into the face of archers who knew they were winning, who knew that not winning meant certain death, and who had the experience against the first cavalry charge to inform how to handle each that followed. The same fate awaited those few French who survived the arrows of the long bowmen and reached the English line. And it happened again. And again. The charges continued through dusk into the night, perhaps as late as midnight. King Phillip was injured by an arrow to his jaw, and the French battle standard, the Oriflamme, was captured. Finally the French just stopped attacking.

 

The total number of prisoners taken that day by the English forces is a rare clearly quantified figure: zero.

 

The next day various English forces sallied forth to attack, killing perhaps another 2000.

 

The total French casualties are unknown; the English heralds counted 1542 nobles among the dead. Credible estimates of up to 4000 men at arms and 10,000 common soldiers are supported. As for the English, they lost 300 or fewer.

 

The English army, morale no doubt boosted by their victory at Crecy, continued on its route and would besiege for eleven months and capture Calais, it remaining English territory until lost in January, 1558 during the reign of Queen Mary Tudor.

 

A good single volume review is The Battle of Crecy (1346), a collection of essays edited by Andrew Ayton and Philip Preston. In addition, Crecy: Battle of Five Kings by Michael Livingston is worthwhile. That said, Jonathan Sumption’s monumental five-volume history of the Hundred Years War (The Hundred Years War I – Trial by Battle; The Hundred Years War II – Trial by Fire; The Hundred Years War III – Divided Houses;The Hundred Years War IV – Cursed Kings; and The Hundred Years War V - Triumph and Illusion) is without compare.

 

The Death of William Wallace

 The Death of William Wallace

      Today marks the anniversary of the death (execution), in 1305, of William Wallace. 

       Most people in this age, to the extent they know anything about William Wallace, learned it from the movie Braveheart in which Mel Gibson played the role of William Wallace. The movie is entirely correct that William Wallace lived and fought for an independent Scotland in the First Scottish War for Independence. The movie is correct in that the he was opposed by King Edward I, who was known by the nickname “long shanks” (he was quite tall for the age). It is true, as depicted in the movie, that William Wallace was executed by being drawn and quartered, that being the accepted method of execution for traitors.

       Almost everything else in the movie is incorrect. For example:

►        Wallace was from a minor noble family; he was not a peasant farmer.

►        Wallace’s father was not executed by the English and may well have been alive when Wallace was appointed Protector of Scotland.

►        Piers Galveston, the “friend” of Edward II, was never thrown from a window (a/k/a a defenestration) by Edward I. Rather, Galveston lived well into the reign of Edward II, although he was ultimately killed as a component of a revolt of the nobles upset about their relationship and Piers’ access to royal largess.

►        In all likelihood, William Wallace and Robert the Bruce (the 7th) never met.

►        Isabella of France did not marry Edward II until 1308, well after the death of William Wallace.

►        The depiction of the Battle of Sterling Bridge omitted the namesake bridge.

►        Isabella of France never negotiated with William Wallace for the treatment of York or anything else; she was born in 1295 and in consequence would have been less than 10 years old at the time of Wallace’s death.

►        Edward I died in July, 1307.  While the movie suggests he was on his deathbed at the time Wallace was executed, in fact he outlived Wallace by almost two years.

►        It is suggested that Isabella of France was secretly “involved" with Wallace and carried his baby at the time of Wallace’s execution. Edward III was born on November 13, 1312. Wallace could have been his father only if Isabella was able to pull off a pregnancy of more than seven years.

►        The moniker “Braveheart” was attributed not to Wallace, but rather to Robert the Bruce. In fact, after his death, his heart was cut out and carried in a chest by Scottish forces going into battle.

A Horse, a Horse, My Kingdom for a Horse

 A Horse, a Horse, My Kingdom for a Horse

      Today is the anniversary of the Battle of Bosworth (1485), the final major battle of that English civil war titled The War of the Roses (this conflict was at the time sometimes referred to as the Cousin’s War).  It was at this battle that King Richard III, variously identified as the last King from the House of Plantagenet or the House of York, was killed. He was the last English King to die in battle.  Henry Tudor, the victor at Bosworth, then became King Henry VII.

      Henry’s victory in battle was if anything surprising.  Richard’s forces outnumbered those of Henry.  Meanwhile, William Stanley held back his own force; if combined with that of Henry, that of Richard would have been out-numbered. Conversely, if Stanley joined with Richard, the weight of the forces arrayed against Henry would have been overwhelming.  Richard held William Stanley’s nephew George (Lord Strange) as a hostage. That nephew’s father, Lord Thomas Stanley, was married to Henry Tudor’s mother Margaret Beaufort.   As battle was about to commence, Richard sent word to Thomas Stanley that if the Stanley forces did not join with his, he would execute Lord Strange (Henry Tudor’s step-brother).  Stanley replied, “I have other sons.”  

       To provide but a taste as to why this conflict was referred to as the Cousins War, consider that Thomas Stanley was the brother of William Stanley, husband of Margaret Beaufort, she being the mother of Henry Tudor.  Ergo, William Stanley was the brother-in-law to Henry’s mother.  Thomas Stanley had previously been married to Eleanor Neville, sister to Warwick the Kingmaker and aunt to Richard III’s recently deceased wife Anne Neville. Anne Neville was a daughter of Warwick. 

      Richard’s attack upon Henry’s position nearly succeeded; Henry’s standard-bearer William Brandon was killed at Henry’s side.  Polydore Virgil, a contemporary historian/chronicler, recorded that Richard fought well.  However, Richard’s fate was sealed when the William Stanley and his troops, having until then not committed to either side, rode against Richard’s infantry as his cavalry was separately moving against Henry. Thomas Stanley would place the coronet (crown) of Richard III on Henry Tudor’s head.

      William Brandon’s son Charles, ultimately Duke of Suffolk, would become the best friend of Henry VIII.

       In 2012, Richard’s remains were located in the course of excavations under a parking lot that now covers part of what was the Blackfriars (Dominican) Church in Leicester, England; early 2013 saw the announcement that testing had confirmed the remains were those of Richard.  In sad testimony to the modern age, litigation ensued as to whether Richard should be re-buried in Leicester Cathedral, apparently consistent with the terms of the agreement by which the archaeological work was performed and other British law, or in York where certain claimed descendants of Richard assert he would want to have been buried.  That question was resolved in favor of Leicester, and in 2016 Richard III was laid to rest in Leicester Cathedral.

       Notwithstanding Polydore Virgil’s positive comments as to Richard III (many of which are now disputed by historians), in proof of the adage that the winners write the history, his reputation was besmirched by various Tudor affiliates such as St. Thomas More and William Shakespeare.   The quote above, “A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse,” is from Shakespeare’s play Richard III,  Act V, Scene IV.  He is currently being reassessed by historians who are not so indebted to supporting the legitimacy of the House of Tudor. The “standard” biographies of Richard III are those of Paul Murray Kendall and Charles Ross, each titled Richard III.

Cannae

 Winning the Battle but Losing the War, the Battle of Cannae

Today is the anniversary of the Battle of Cannae, fought in 216 b.c. between the Roman Republic and the Carthaginian army under the command of Hannibal Barca. Having led his forces from Spain over the Alps into Italy (including with his famous elephants), Hannibal had continued to prevail. Cannae was the third in a series of battles including Trebia (218 b.c.) and Lake Trasimene (217 b.c.). After the disaster of the Battle of Lake Trasimene, the Romans had appointed a dictator, Fabius. Well aware of how the Roman armies had done in direct opposition against the forces of Carthage, he developed a plan of attrition, minor strikes against the Carthaginian forces while avoiding set piece battles, all in an effort to wear out the foreign forces. While the program was of itself successful, the Romans grew tired of a purely defensive position and sought once again a direct conflict. That would take place at Cannae, on the Eastern (Adriatic) coast of Italy, in the region of the “ankle” of the “boot.”

The Romans, who enjoyed numerically superior forces, expected a resounding victory, finally bringing Hannibal and his army to heal. The opposite would take place. Through carefully arranged his forces in opposition to the Romans and what appears to have been a well managed strategic retreat in the front line troops, the Romans were drawn into a pocket and ultimately encircled by the Carthaginian forces. Hemmed in from all sides, it is reported that the Romans did not have the space within which to swing their weapons, and the still commonly used long spears of the Roman phalanx (technically a maniples) were rendered ineffective.

Casualty figures from ancient battles are notoriously unreliable. The Roman historian Polybius reported a casualty rate at the battle in excess of what he reported as the initial count of the Roman forces. Regardless, all eight legions were rendered militarily ineffective. Adrian Goldsworthy, in his book Cannae, suggests that probably 50,000 corpses littered the battlefield.

In response, numerous communities, particularly in Southern Italy, threw off their allegiance to Rome and shifting it to Hannibal. For all intents and purposes, the Second Punic war should have been over with Carthage victorious. Rome, however, refused to negotiate with Hannibal, and set about raising new armies. Those armies, ultimately under the command of Scipio Africanus, would attack Carthage itself. The war ended with a negotiated peace after the Battle of Zama in 202 b.c. 

The Third Punic War would break out about fifty years later, and in it Carthage was finally destroyed. Almost certainly its fields were not salted.  An excellent review of the Punic Wars is Richard Miles, Carthage Must Be Destroyed: The Rise and Fall of an Ancient Civilization.