The Battle of Crécy (1346): The Secrets of Edward III’s Victory
- Davit Grigoryan
- Jun 9
- 8 min read
The Battle of Crécy (26 August 1346) was a bloody lesson in medieval warfare, where the English army under Edward III defeated the larger French forces. This article provides a detailed examination of the tactics employed, the secret power of the English longbows, and the fatal mistakes made by Philip VI. How did this battle change the art of war in Europe? Why did the proud cavalry lose to simple foot soldiers? Read about the triumph of discipline over pride and the birth of a new era in the history of warfare.
Background of the Battle
The Battle of Crécy, which took place on August 26, 1346, was one of the key battles of the Hundred Years’ War — a long conflict between England and France rooted in dynastic disputes and the fight for control over land on the continent. The war was sparked by the claims of the English king, Edward III, to the French throne after the death of Charles IV in 1328. French nobles rejected his claim and chose Philip VI of Valois as king, which increased tensions between the two kingdoms. But behind this formal reason were deeper issues: the struggle for control over wealthy Flanders, disputes over territories in Aquitaine, and England’s desire to strengthen its influence in Europe.
By 1346, the war had been going on for nearly ten years, but no decisive battles had taken place. Edward III, hoping to change the course of the conflict, launched a bold raid into Normandy. His army landed on the coast in July 1346, burning towns and showing English strength. The king aimed not only to weaken the enemy but also to provoke Philip VI into a full-scale battle. The French king gathered a large army and moved to intercept the English, but Edward's forces carefully retreated north toward the English Channel to stay close to their ships and secure their supply lines.
The turning point came when Edward stopped near the village of Crécy-en-Ponthieu. There, on hilly ground, he chose to make a stand. The English king knew that his army, smaller in number (estimated at 12,000–16,000 against 20,000–30,000 French), had to make up for it with discipline and smart tactics. His soldiers were also tired from the long march, so taking a strong defensive position was critically important.
Interestingly, Philip VI, confident in his superiority, rushed to attack despite his troops being exhausted and the poor coordination between different parts of his army. This overconfidence, combined with tactical mistakes, led to a tragic outcome for France. Yet on that day, August 26, both sides believed in victory — each for their reasons.
Thus, Crécy was not just a random clash but the result of careful planning by Edward III and a series of strategic mistakes by the French commanders. The battle was meant to show which army was better prepared for the challenges of a new era — an era where knightly bravery gave way to discipline and innovation.
Positions and Forces
By the time of the Battle of Crécy, the two armies had taken very different positions, which greatly influenced how the fight would go. The English chose a strong defensive position on a hillside, protected on the sides by woods and a stream. This allowed them to control the enemy’s approach and reduce the risk of being surrounded. Edward III divided his forces into three large groups, each made up of heavily armored knights (who fought on foot for better stability), archers, and spearmen. The key advantage of the English army was their famous longbows — weapons capable of piercing armor from up to 200 meters away. The archers were placed on the flanks, forming “teeth” — wedge-shaped formations aimed at the enemy.
The French, on the other hand, relied on classic medieval tactics: the powerful charge of heavy cavalry. Philip VI gathered a large army that included not only knights but also hired Genoese crossbowmen and infantry made up of militia. However, discipline was lacking: many nobles eager for personal glory ignored orders, and parts of the army arrived at the battlefield scattered and uncoordinated. The crossbowmen, slower to fire than the English archers, also had no large shields called pavises because these were left behind in the camp due to the rush to attack.
Interestingly, the composition of the armies reflected a fundamental difference in military philosophy. The English relied on infantry and cooperation between different branches of their forces: archers would first weaken the enemy, then the dismounted knights would engage in close combat. The French, however, remained loyal to the knightly code, where cavalry was considered the “queen of the battlefield.” Even their numerical superiority—reported by some as nearly two to one—could not save them from fatal mistakes.
Special attention should be given to the preparation of the battlefield. The English dug pit traps for horses in front of their positions and placed their camp at the rear, creating an improvised fortress. The French, on the other hand, did not bother to scout the area properly, which led to chaotic attacks uphill in the rain (according to legend, the downpour began just before the battle, soaking the strings of the Genoese crossbows).
Thus, by the start of the battle, the two armies represented opposite extremes: one was organized, making use of terrain and technology; the other relied on tradition and individual bravery. As the events that followed showed, the future belonged to the first approach.
The Course of the Battle
The early morning of August 26, 1346, was gloomy. Clouds hung over the field near Crécy, signaling rain, but neither side planned to delay the battle. The English, holding their position on the hill, had time to eat breakfast and form their battle lines. Edward III, breaking with tradition, chose not to lead the troops personally. Instead, he positioned himself at a windmill behind the lines, from where he could watch the entire battle. This gesture symbolized a new approach: the king trusted his commanders and the carefully planned tactics.
The Genoese crossbowmen, hired by Philip VI, were the first to enter the battle. However, their attack quickly failed. The rain that had started shortly before the fight soaked the crossbow strings, reducing their range and accuracy. On top of that, the sun broke through the clouds and shone directly into the faces of the French, blinding them. The English archers, whose bows had been kept covered until the last moment, responded with a storm of arrows. Each archer could shoot 10 to 12 arrows per minute, turning the sky into a dark cloud. The Genoese, without their pavises for protection, fled back but ran into their cavalry, which was already charging forward.
The French knights, ignoring discipline, began to push back the retreating mercenaries, calling them cowards. The chaos worsened when horses fell into the pit traps dug by the English. The cavalry, trapped and unable to maneuver, became easy targets for the archers. Arrows whistled through the air, piercing armor and wounding horses, while falling riders blocked the movement of those behind them. Those who managed to reach the English lines faced a solid wall of dismounted knights and spearmen standing shoulder to shoulder.
Philip VI, realizing that the battle was not going as planned, tried to stop the chaotic attacks, but his orders were lost in the noise of the fighting. The French attacked in waves—first the knightly elite, then the militia—but each new attack was broken by the iron discipline of the English. The Welsh spearmen played a special role: armed with long knives, they moved close to fallen knights and finished them off through gaps in their armor.
By evening, the field at Crécy had turned into a bloody mess. French losses were catastrophic: about 1,500 knights died, including the Duke of Lorraine and King John of Bohemia, who, according to legend, ordered himself to be tied to two squires so he could die in his saddle. The English lost no more than 200 men. Edward III, keeping his composure, forbade pursuing the retreating enemy—he understood that the victory was already complete.
An interesting episode: during the battle, Edward’s 16-year-old son, the future Black Prince, commanded one of the flanks. When his unit got into serious trouble, the king refused to send reinforcements, saying, “Let the boy earn his spurs.” The prince held his ground and became a symbol of the new English military tradition.
The battle ended as darkness fell. The French, demoralized and bloodied, retreated. The English lit fires on the hill and spent the night on the battlefield, guarding the wounded and gathering trophies. In the morning, they saw the full scale of their victory: abandoned banners, piles of bodies, and flocks of crows circling over what was once the pride of France.
The Significance of the Battle of Crécy
The Battle of Crécy was a turning point not only in the Hundred Years’ War but also in the history of European military art. Its outcome disproved the myth of the invincibility of knightly cavalry and proved that discipline, tactics, and technological superiority could overcome numerical advantage. For England, this victory was a triumph: Edward III strengthened his position in Europe, and control of Calais (captured a year later) provided a strategic base for further campaigns. However, the significance of the battle went far beyond military success.
Crécy showed the fall of the medieval “knightly romance.” The longbows, dismounted knights, and cooperation between infantry and archers all became the foundation of a new army model. The French, on the other hand, clung to outdated methods for decades, which led to defeats at Poitiers (1356) and Agincourt (1415). The battle also weakened the reputation of the Genoese crossbowmen, who were seen as unreliable mercenaries after Crécy.
The defeat of France worsened the internal crisis. The death of thousands of nobles weakened Philip VI’s position, which contributed to popular uprisings like the Jacquerie (1358). England, on the other hand, was experiencing a rise: loot from the battlefield and ransom for prisoners (knights were often captured for profit) filled the treasury. Edward III’s success strengthened the idea of “English exceptionalism,” which became part of the national identity.
Crécy struck a blow to class prejudices. Ordinary archers and spearmen, once seen as “cannon fodder,” proved that their role was just as important as knightly bravery. This gradually changed the structure of armies: mercenaries and professional infantry began to replace feudal militias. Interestingly, the battle also influenced fashion: because of the longbows’ effectiveness, European armor became heavier, and shields smaller.
For contemporaries, Crécy was a shock. The death of the King of Bohemia, the blind John, who, according to legend, asked to be led into the thick of the fight, was seen as the end of an era. Chroniclers compared the battlefield to a “forest of broken spears,” and poets mourned the “death of honor.” However, it was this tragedy that made Europe realize the need for reforms, both military and social.
The battle remained remembered as a lesson in pride and adaptation. It showed that wars are won not only on the battlefield but also in the workshops of weaponsmiths, in the commanders’ headquarters, and even in the minds of society. For France, the defeat became a catalyst for change: by the end of the 14th century, Charles V began building a regular army, avoiding past mistakes.
Today, Crécy reminds us that traditions without innovation lead to defeat. It also shows that history loves irony: a humble hill in northern France forever changed the fate of two nations, proving that even in an age of steel and blood, intelligence wins.