Records: Edwardian Sweep of Northern France

## **The Pause Before the Launch**

The Edwardian army of England, the Regiment of St. George, had gone right the northeast edge of Normandy to close out 1378. Three battles in the last month, three decisive victories, carried this latest English effort across northern France. There was a perception that the English simply could not be beat – and considering the magically-produced armor and munitions, that was so far true.

Scouts assured the royal command element that no armies were within twenty miles, giving opportunity to refresh and relax. This was restorative decompression, a chance to clean up, a moment to savor the efforts that their dedicated logistics could bring: this was a regiment that was perfectly warm despite being the middle of winter, that was well-fed on good food, carrying magical arms, being paid a king's wages.

Morale was high.

After a day to enjoy French wine, on January 2, the regiment rolled east.

## **The Action Begins Again**

It was a short jaunt east to Abbeville , the County of Ponthieu, which was still technically an English possession. Allegiances had been tried and tested in that time, but over the last few years, had done very well in their connections across the channel.

Reps from smaller towns across Ponthieu met the King at Abbeville, offering homage, and Edward accepted. It wasn't that England needed the money, but the gesture and the ceremony was important.

### **Two Points to Artois**

From Abbeville, the Regiment headed due east and made it to Arras in record time. The capital of the County of Artois, and still in shock over the devastation outside nearby Calais, there was zero interest in fighting the force that brought magical cannons. It only helped that the nominal leader, Margaret I (also Countess of Burgundy), had long evacuated the area in fear of Anglo-Aquitaine forces.

The Regiment secured the city with oaths – though these oaths were backed by *actual* magic.

Not two days later, the Regiment rolled through Boulogne on the coast. Again, it was a peaceful-if-tense interaction, where there was little more than a magically-enhanced oath of allegiance.

Almost as fast, word spread to London and Paris alike that the English army was on the move again. Artois had fallen, but fallen peacefully. That was somethign of a disappointment to hard-line French hawks, like Philip the Bold, but a secret relief to Charles V.

### **Mission to Calais**

Now five weeks back in France, the Edwardian army met the Aquitaine Bayonne regiment, still guarding Calais.

A point of minor embarrassment in one view, at least in the son having to fill in for the father. In seeing them now, though, it was a point of pride of what Prince Rick had assembled. They Bayonne Regiment was absolutely magnificent to behold.

This led to another day of the armies interacting, stories traded, and wine drunk. Calais was an English stronghold that had withstood the onslaught. Their guard was down, and with the SA scouts ensuring there was no nearby threat, it could afford to be down.

By now, most repairs to Calais had been effected, allowing the Bayonne Regiment to depart. Instead of heading back to Aquitaine, it became a complementary force that assisted the remaining English counterattack.

### **Along the Coast**

With Artois and Calais making a secure rear, the combined regiments headed east through coastal Flanders.

Through his marriage with Margaret of Dampierre in 1369, Philip the Bold, duke of Burgundy, had built strong connections to the ownership of Flanders. However, the House of Valois-Burgundy (that now ruled over the Duchy of Burgundy) wasn't there *yet*. Rather, it was still a possession of Louis II, Count of Flanders, as well as Nevers and Rethel.

Bruges was no fan of Louis *or* Philip. Rather, they were a traditional trading partner with England, so by the time *two* storied regiments showed up, Louis II had abandoned the area (heading to Paris) and the transfer of sovereignty was a mere formality.

Rolling south, over the River Leie then along the River Schelde, the Edwardian army was destined to finish the month in Picardy.

## **Action in Amiens**

France had assembled a defensive stand, mostly with wild stories of human sacrifice and slaughter. As the troops hit the countryside, outside of Paris, more accurate rumors gave lie to the propaganda – but by then, they were already marching.

The French met the two regiments at the city of Amiens, the territory of Picardy. They'd assembled a major battery of cannons, mostly in hopes that the English would be coming back that way. The contingency was that they'd take them back to Paris for the inevitable battle there, but if by the Grace of God they could stop them before Paris, so much the better.

The eventual battle fell on Prince Edward's birthday – no less than the Crown Prince reaching the Age of Majority. How much that was recognized or actually applied varied based on political expediency, but in the Prince's case, he proved himself to a father, a king, a kingdom and a continent as he led an army into battle.

### **The Cringe of the Father**

The French had set up defenses to channel the English. Against a more traditional foe, it would've been brilliant tactics. When the English arrived, they looked at two possibilities: either going as a single unit down a channel of concentrated fire or splitting into two and flanking over rough terrain.

As it was, they chose to split.

While the command element could easily sit back and watch, the tactical decisions left to the very-capable brigadiers, this was a point of pride and record. They split, with the King commanding St. George and the English Crown Prince commanding his little brother's Bayonne Regiment.

While Prince Edward had proven himself a capable warrior and an excellent tactician, including in this battle, the statistics were adding up. The odds were starting to lean to another wound, and the tension was ever increasing for a father who had nearly lost his on at least two occasions.

It didn't help that Prince Edward led from the front, following through with the English threat to kill anybody in armor but a promise to spare every civilian. It meant no artillery, only hand weapons: projectors or blades. And the English were true to their word.

By the end of the battle, there were 2,500 casualties – almost entirely defenders – and over 5,000 prisoners of war. Among the dead was Olivier "the Butcher" de Clisson, the mercenary, psychopath, extensive landowner in Breton (including Nantes)... and current Constable of France. After his service to Charles in Brittany, he'd been appointed as Constable after the death of Bertrand du Guesclin.

The POWs were processed, *fed* *and released with warm clothes*. It was a key part of the counter-propaganda to spread the word across the French countryside that the English were not magic-fueled monsters that would devour their souls.

### **Speaking in the Vernacular**

After the battle, both Edwards demonstrated a mastery of the Picard language, giving a different kind of respect to their authority beyond simply force of arms.