THE FRENCH ARMY HAD been on the march for hours and they were spread out by now, with many stragglers. When Richard’s knights shifted their lances from their fautrés, couched them under their right arms, and charged from the woods, the assault created pandemonium in the French ranks. Some of their knights tried to rally their men, but there was so much confusion that their commands went unheeded. The local levy was the first to break, for they lacked the experience of battle-seasoned soldiers and had never faced a cavalry charge of armed knights. Riding stirrup to stirrup, Richard’s knights swept over the road like a wave, engulfing all in their path as the march disintegrated into chaos.
Richard was shouting a new battle cry, one meant to proclaim that he owed his kingship only to God, and the cries of “Dieu et mon droit!” rose above the clamor, drowning out the few answering shouts of “Montjoie Saint Denis!” Ahead of him a knight on a chestnut destrier was trying to quell the panic, yelling, “Fall back! To me!” as he sought to gather enough men for a countercharge. Richard gave Argento his head, and the stallion’s scream was one of primal fury as he spotted the chestnut. Richard’s target swung toward the sound and couched his lance as he saw Richard bearing down upon him. But his horse sidestepped at the sight of Argento, just enough to spoil his aim. His lance struck Richard’s shield a glancing blow and then he was flung back against his saddle cantle by the force of Richard’s lance. Argento screamed again, lunging toward the other stallion, and when the chestnut reared up, his rider had no hope of retaining his seat, slamming into the ground with enough force to stun him. When he opened his eyes moments later, his horse was gone and he was staring up at the English king, who had his lance leveled at his throat.
“Do you yield?” Richard preferred an iron cap with a nasal guard that did not hinder his vision and permitted his foes to know whom they were facing. The French knight was wearing one of the new great helms that hid his identity and it was only when he wrenched it off that Richard realized he’d just unhorsed one of his crusading companions.
Mathieu de Montmorency had been only sixteen at the time of their arrival in the Holy Land, but he’d grown to manhood fighting the Saracens, and Richard had become fond of him. The eager youth he remembered was a man now of twenty-four, and no longer an ally. But he still had that jaunty spirit, for he mustered up a game smile, saying, “If I must yield, I am glad it is to you, my liege, for there is no disgrace in being unhorsed by the Lionheart.” He got to his feet rather unsteadily, for his head was still spinning, unsheathed his sword, and offered it to Richard. “Will my word be enough?”
“I would take the word of a Montmorency in a heartbeat,” Richard assured him, waving aside the offer of the sword, and they regarded each other in silence for a moment, remembering a time when Mathieu had fought for God, not the French king. Richard’s lance was still intact and he saluted the younger man with it now, knowing he could trust Mathieu to honor his parole. And then he turned back to the battle, which was already showing signs of becoming a rout.
ANY CHANCE the French might have had of staving off defeat ended when Philippe chose to retreat rather than rally his men. As he fled toward the closest refuge, his castle at Gisors, the best and bravest stayed behind to buy with their blood enough time for him to escape. Most of the French were fleeing after Philippe, but a number of his knights formed a rearguard to protect their king, offering up their lives and their freedom because he was their liege lord, because they knew no other way. Over a hundred of them would be taken prisoner by Richard and his men, and when Mercadier eventually arrived upon the scene, he seized another thirty knights. Men-at-arms were captured, too, and, as Richard would later report to the Bishop of Durham, two hundred warhorses as well, many of them protected by armor. Once again Richard had defied the odds and the fates and emerged triumphant. But the victory was tarnished by his failure to capture the French king.