The Precarious Prelude to Invasion

The year 1346 marked a pivotal moment in the Hundred Years’ War, as Edward III of England prepared an ambitious invasion of France. The logistical challenges were immense—shipbuilding delays, troop recruitment difficulties, and shifting departure dates plagued the campaign. By summer, Edward had assembled a force of 10,000–15,000 men, a composite army blending feudal levies with a growing class of professional soldiers.

This force reflected a transformation in medieval warfare. Traditional feudal obligations were giving way to a system of paid contracts, known as “Indentures of Retinue.” These agreements specified wages, expenses, and terms of service, including whether soldiers would fight domestically or overseas. The rise of these contracted retinues signaled the emergence of “Bastard Feudalism,” where nobles maintained private armies through monetary incentives rather than land-based feudal ties.

The Normandy Gambit

On July 5, Edward III set sail from Portchester with nearly a thousand ships. Contrary to French expectations of an attack on Gascony, his target was Normandy—a strategic feint aided by intelligence from the disaffected French noble Godfrey de Harcourt. However, fierce Channel storms forced the fleet back. By the time Philip VI of France received reliable intelligence, it was too late.

On July 12, the English landed at La Hougue in the Cotentin Peninsula. Over three days, they disembarked men, horses, and supplies unopposed. Edward then launched his first chevauchée—a devastating raid designed to cripple the French economy and demoralize the population. Towns like Carentan and Caen were sacked, their defenses crumbling under the swift English advance. At Caen, a poorly defended suburb became the site of a massacre, with thousands slaughtered before the English marched onward.

The Race to the Seine

Edward’s forces moved eastward, exploiting French disarray. Bridges were destroyed, but the English repaired them with remarkable speed, reaching Poissy—just 20 miles from Paris—by mid-August. Panic spread through the French capital as Edward’s raiding parties probed deeper. Philip VI, pressured to act, recalled his son, the Duke of Normandy, from the siege of Aiguillon, hoping to trap Edward in open battle.

Yet Edward outmaneuvered the French. Instead of engaging, he turned north toward Flanders, forcing Philip’s army into a futile chase. The English, now mounted on stolen horses, outpaced their pursuers but faced new obstacles at the Somme River. With bridges heavily guarded, Edward’s scouts discovered a shallow crossing at Blanchetaque. In a daring nighttime maneuver, the English forded the river under cover of darkness, narrowly escaping encirclement.

The Battle of Crécy: A Tactical Triumph

On August 26, Edward chose his ground carefully. Positioning his army on a gentle slope near Crécy-en-Ponthieu, he divided his forces into three dismounted divisions, flanked by longbowmen. His 17-year-old son, the Black Prince, commanded the vanguard, while Edward oversaw the center. Trenches and wagons fortified their position, and—in a historic first—cannon were deployed on the battlefield.

Philip VI, overconfident and impatient, ignored advice to wait for reinforcements. His Genoese crossbowmen, hampered by wet strings and blinding sunlight, were decimated by English longbow fire. French knights, charging in disarray, were cut down in waves. Fifteen successive assaults failed against the disciplined English lines. By nightfall, the field was littered with French nobility, including the blind King John of Bohemia, who died fighting.

Aftermath and Legacy

The French defeat was catastrophic. Thousands lay dead, including key nobles like the Count of Alençon. Philip VI fled to Amiens, while France descended into scapegoating—Genoese crossbowmen were briefly branded traitors before being pardoned.

For England, Crécy was a triumph that cemented the longbow’s dominance and showcased Edward’s strategic brilliance. The battle also foreshadowed the decline of feudal cavalry and the rise of professional armies.

Modern Relevance

The Crécy campaign remains a case study in military logistics, leadership, and tactical innovation. Edward’s use of chevauchée tactics and his exploitation of terrain underscore timeless principles of warfare. Meanwhile, the shift from feudal levies to contracted soldiers mirrors modern debates about professionalization in armed forces.

Six centuries later, Crécy stands as a defining moment—where medieval chivalry collided with the dawn of a new era in war.