side, and bring us with glory and honour through the day!"

Every guest at the Prince's table had leaped to his feet. Swords were
unsheathed and waved in wild enthusiasm, and a shout went up that was
like one of triumph, as with one voice the guests around the Prince's
table drained their cups to the victory of the English cause, shouting
with one voice, as if formulating a battle cry:

"St. George and the Prince! St. George and the Prince!"

In the English camp that night there were elation and revelry; not the
wild carousing that too often in those days preceded a battle and left
the soldiers unfit for duty, but a cheerful partaking of good and
sufficient food before the night's rest and ease which the King had
resolved upon for his whole army, in preparation for the battle that
could scarce be delayed longer than the morrow.

It was early on Thursday morning, the twenty-fourth day of August, that
the ford of the Blanche Tache had been crossed. Thursday and Friday had
been spent by the English in skirmishing about in search of provisions,
of which great abundance had been found, and in deciding upon the
disposition of their troops in a favourable position for meeting the
advance of the French.

The King had selected some wooded and rising ground in the vicinity of
the then obscure little village of Crecy. Then having made all his
arrangements with skill and foresight, and having ordered that his men
should be provided with ample cheer, and should rest quietly during the
night, he himself gave a grand banquet to the leaders of his army; and
the young Prince of Wales followed his father's example by inviting to