From Belt and Spur, Stories of the Knights of the Middle Ages from the Old Chronicles, by E. L. S. (Emma L. Seeley), New York: Scribner and Welford, 1883; pp. 220-237.
CHAPTER XIII.
KING HENRY V. IN FRANCE
Our intrepid and magnanimous Prince having set the kingdom in order, went on board his ship the Trinity, between Southampton and Portsmouth, and gave command that the sail should be hoisted that all the ships might assemble; and when they were all gathered together, in number about fifteen hundred, he set sail with a favourable wind: and when they had passed the Isle of Wight there came some swans and swam in the midst of the ships, and all said it was a happy omen. Then the next day, about the hour of noon, they entered the river of Seine, which flows from Paris to the sea by Rouen and Harfleur, and they cast anchor at a place called Chefde Caux, about three miles from Harfleur. But the King forbade any to land that night. Then the next morning, before daybreak, Sir John Holland, earl of Huntingdon, went with certain horsemen to reconnoitre the place, and afterwards, when the morning dawned and the sun shone clear, the King, with 221 the chief part of his army, came to land in little boats and skiffs, and took up their position on a little hill near Harfleur, having on one side a wood going down to the river of Seine, and on the other farms and orchards. The shore, being covered with rough stones, was perilous for landing, and the enemy had made in one part a deep ditch, and fortified it with mud walls up to the marsh, which is very dangerous, but they left it now undefended, although with but few men they might have opposed many thousands.
Then the King caused it to be proclaimed in the camp that none, under pain of death, should set fire to any building, nor injure or destroy any church or sacred place; neither should they lay hands on any priest or woman; and, dividing his army into three parts, he moved against the town, appearing on the hill over against it, for on the other side he could not approach it on account of the tide and the stream flowing through the valley. For the town is situated at the end of a valley at the mouth of the Seine, and the sea at high tide rises to the top. A stream of fresh water fills the deep and wide ditches outside the walls to the bank of the river, which enters under the walls by a watergate and two arches, which the inhabitants can open and close at their pleasure. And the town was surrounded by walls with high towers, and it had three gates, before each of which the enemy had erected a defence called a barbican, with great trees bound strongly together as high nearly as the walls of the town. It was built round in form, and had many chinks and crevices through 222 which they could shoot upon us with arrows and darts, or with their tubes, which we in English call ‘gunnys.’ All round about was deep water, two lances’ length in breadth at the narrowest part, with a little bridge that they could draw up and down at will.
Ships could come up into the middle of the town, and the harbor had walls with two fine towers at the entrance, armed and fortified; but the enemy had planted stakes in the water at the entrance to hinder our ships from coming in. And the town had many fine buildings and one parish church.
And the army, having taken up its position before the town in the fields and orchards, the King gave care to the providing of victuals for man and beast, and for guarding the camp from attack. But the other side of the town being left open, the next day the Lord de Gaucourt entered the town with three hundred lances, being sent to aid the defence. Therefore the King sent Thomas, duke of Clarence, with part of the army, to press the siege on that side; but the march was difficult and dangerous, for the town had broken down the bridges and caused the stream to flood the valley, that it was wider than the Thames at London. And on his way he captured great store of guns and powder, with crossbows and arrows, which were being carried to the town from the city of Rouen. And in the morning he took up his position on the hill on the other side, and the stream being guarded by boat and the entrance from the sea by the King’s ships, the siege was ordered all round the town.
223Then the King sent to offer peace to the besieged, if they would open the gates to him and give up the town to him, the rightful Duke of Normandy. But they refusing to obey, the King set up his engines before the town, and built over them edifices of wood and iron, that the soldiers might be shielded from the missiles of the enemy, while they shot stones from the guns with ignited powder. And he directed his strongest attack against the barbican before the chief gate, battering it with stones and digging mines beneath it, until in a few days it was in great part broken down. But the enemy did us what damage they could with their guns and crossbows, and as the walls and towers were broken by day, they heaped up in the breach by night logs and tubs filled with earth, and heaped up sand and stones. And they built up mounds of thick clay, into which the stones from the guns should sink, doing little harm. And they had vessels full of quick-lime and boiling oil to pour upon the heads of our men if they should approach too near.
The King began to construct great mines to undermine the walls, but being begun in sight of the enemy they frustrated them by counter-mines, and the fagots that were brought to fill up the ditches they set on fire and burnt.
And at this time there fell sick the Lord Richard Courtenay, bishop of Norwich, who was much beloved by the King, and in short space he died, the King himself closing his eyes, and sending his body to England to be buried at Westminster. The same 224 day the enemy making a sortie did much damage to our men. But on the morrow the Earl of Huntingdon with his men set the barbican on fire, and took it.
Then the King caused it to be proclaimed by trumpet through the camp that all should prepare to storm the city and mount the walls, and that the next morning all the soldiers and the sailors from the ships should be in the places assigned to them by their captains. And that night he assailed the town more fiercely with stones from the guns, that the besieged might not have sleep or rest.
But the enemy, fearing the assault and despairing of succour, sent to pray for a truce, promising to give up the town if they were not rescued by the French King or the Dauphin before the first hour after noon of the Sunday following. And to this the King agreed. And the Bishop of Bangor, with all the King’s chaplains, marching in procession in their hoods, carried the host to a place under the walls, and there they swore to the covenant; and twenty-three hostages were given up to the King, and a soldier sent to the French King. And the same day there died that noble soldier, the Lord Michael Pole, earl of Suffolk.
Then when within the time appointed there came none from the French King, nor from the Dauphin, to succour the city, the King, clad in gold and splendid raiment, being seated on his throne in a pavilion on the hill, his nobles and captains standing by, and Sir Gilbert Umfraville on his right, bearing 225 on a spear the crowned helmet of the King, the Lord de Gaucourt, with all who had sworn to the treaty, came before him, and yielded up the keys of the city to him; and he received them graciously, and brought him and those that were with him, and the hostages, into his tent, and entertained them magnificently with what dainties he had.
And the banners of St. George and the King being set on the gates, the King made Thomas Beaufort, earl of Dorset, captain of the town. And the Lord de Gaucourt, with the knights and nobles, were suffered to depart, having taken an oath to surrender themselves at Calais at the feast of St. Martin. And the poor, with the women and children, were sent away to go where they would in France, being conducted by a body of armed men that they might not suffer harm at the hands of freebooters.
Then King Henry sent a herald to the Dauphin, challenging him to make an end of the quarrel between them by single combat. But having tarried at Harfleur the set time, and the Dauphin not replying, he put captains and soldiers in the town and made ready to march to Calais. But many of his men being sick, he permitted them to return to England; and great numbers having died by the sickness, besides those which had fallen by the sword, there remained with him but nine hundred spearmen and five thousand archers.
226Then, having given command to his men to carry with them victuals for eight days, he set forth. And leaving the town of Monstre de Villiers on our right, we came on the Friday to the town of Arques, three miles from Dieppe, and they shot stones at us; but the King made a treaty with them, and they gave us free passage through the town and bread and wine. And the next day we came to Eu and passed it on our left hand; and some of the French army having assembled, fell upon us, but we drove them away. And the prisoners reported that the French army would fall upon us at the river of Somme. On the morrow (Sunday) we came to the town of Abbeville; and the advanced guard brought word to us that the bridges were broken down and the French army was gathered together on the other bank. Then we turned and marched up the river-bank to another crossing; but there also the causeways were broken, and the French assembled in great numbers. Then we feared greatly that our victuals would be consumed, and that the enemy would fall upon us when we were weak and faint for want of food; and thus, with many lamentations and prayers for deliverance, we went on our way towards the head of the river, leaving on one side the city of Amiens. And we came to a village of the Duke of Burgundy’s, named Boves, and having parleyed with them, they gave us bread and wine to redeem their town and vineyards from being burnt. 227 And passing Corbie, the French came out and attacked us; but we made them fly, having captured two of them and killed others.
There was brought to the King at this time a soldier of the English army, who had stolen from a church a pix of copper gilt, thinking it to be gold, and by command of the King at the next village he was hanged.
Then the report being spread that the enemy would come with many horsemen to break through the line of archers, the King gave command that each archer should carry with him a strong stake six feet in length, sharp at each end, that thus if the enemy attacked them they might drive the stake into the ground with one point inclined towards the enemy.
And when we came to Nesle, tidings were brought to the King that there was a ford over the river about a league distant, and coming to the spot we found two places where the water was little higher than to a horse’s belly, but the approach to them was by long causeways, and the French had broken them in the middle, so that it was difficult to ride even in single file. Then Sir John Cornwall and Sir Gilbert Umfraville were sent across with their pennons and a body of spearmen and archers to guard the passage. And the King gave command to fill the breaches with fagots of wood and straw, so that the three might ride abreast. Then he sent the baggage over by one ford and the soldiers over by the other, standing himself at the entrance, lest the men in their eagerness should cause 228 confusion. Thus the passage was made. But before a hundred of our men were over the French appeared in sight, and some horsemen rode hastily to the attack, but being repelled by the advanced guard, and seeing that a large part had by this time crossed and taken up a good position, they turned and rode away.
Now we began to cross about an hour after noon, and the whole army had attained the other side in safety an hour before night, and we rejoiced greatly, trusting that the French would not now attack us. But the next day the Duke of Orleans and the Duke of Bourbon sent three heralds to bring the King word that they would fight with him before he came to Calais. Upon which the King, encouraging his men, prepared for battle the next day. But meeting with no resistance we came to the walled town of Peronne, and some French horsemen issued forth to attack us, but perceiving us to be ready they fled back to the town. And as we went on our way we beheld the road trodden by the French army, and it was as if there were many thousands gone before us. And we of the people, I speak not of the mighty ones, fearing the battle to be imminent, raised our eyes and hearts to heaven, crying aloud to God to have mercy on us, and in His great pity save us from the power of the French. And we went on and came to the river of Swords, and hearing that the enemy were on the other side we made haste to cross, and coming to the top of a hill we beheld before us in the valley the French army, in three companies, who halted about 229 a mile from us, and filled the whole plain like an innumerable multitude of locusts.
Then our King immediately set us in array, cheering and encouraging his men with great intrepidity and graciousness, and all who had not done so before made their confession. And I heard a certain Sir Walter Hungerford lamenting in the King’s presence that they had not another ten thousand of good English archers. But the King turning to him said, ‘Thou speakest foolishly, for by the God of heaven, in Whose grace I trust, and in Whom I have a firm hope of victory, I would not have one more. Dost thou not believe that the Almighty with these few men can overcome the pride of the French?’
Then the enemy, having considered us awhile, drew off to a field beyond a wood which lay on the left hand, on the road to Calais. Upon that the King advanced and followed them, but when the sun began to decline the French prepared to take up their position for the night in the orchards. And when darkness settled down upon us we could hear them calling to one another; but our King commanded us to keep silence, threatening if a gentleman should offend to take away his horse and harness, and if a servant that he should lose his left ear. And thus in silence we turned aside to a village, and took up our abode in some miserable houses and the gardens and orchards. And rain fell in abundance all that night. But the 230 enemy perceiving our silence thought we purposed to flee, and lighted fires, with strong guards to intercept us; and it is reported that they thought themselves so secure of us that they played at dice for our King and his nobles.
Then on the morrow, being the Feast of SS. Crispin and Crispinian, the 25th day of October, at break of day, the French formed in battle array, and took up their position in the field of Agincourt, through which went our road to Calais. Their vanguard was of footmen of their noblest and best, showing a forest of lances and shining helmets, and on each side was a company of horsemen to break the line of our archers. All the remainder, the rearguard and the wings, were on horseback, an innumerable multitude.
King Henry having heard mass, set his army in order, making but one line of battle, his vanguard, under the Duke of York, forming the right wing, and the rearguard, under the Lord de Camoys, the left, with a body of archers between them, the stakes being fixed in the ground to defend them from the horsemen.
But when the King saw that the French delayed to attack, and that the two armies had been face to face for many hours, he prepared to advance. And he gave command to carry the baggage to the rear, where were the priests praying earnestly for the King and his men. But as soon as the battle began the French plunderers fell upon them and carried away the sword and crown and many other precious things.
Then the King, crying to Heaven for aid, moved 231 towards the enemy, and I, sitting on horseback with the other priests in the rear, remembering what the Church at that time was reading, said in my heart, ‘Remember us, O Lord! Our enemies are gathered together, glorying in their might. Shatter their strength and disperse them, that they may know that there is none other that fighteth for us, but only Thou, O God.’
And the two armies meeting, the French horsemen began to assail our archers; but by the rain of arrows they were compelled to give way, and fled to the rear. And the enemy’s cross-bowmen, who were behind the armed men after the first hasty discharge, in which they wounded very few, also gave way and retreated. Then the French nobles, who were advancing in one body, either from fear of the arrows or hoping thus to prosper better, divided themselves into three bodies, and attacked in the three places where the standards were seen. And their attack was so fierce that they forced back our men almost a spear’s length, at which we, fighting a priestly warfare, fell on our faces in bitterness of spirit, crying on God to remember us. And our men quickly recovered their strength, and the battle raged fiercely. And when their arrows were exhausted, catching up the stakes and the swords and lances which lay around them, the archers attacked and dispersed the enemy. Nor had the oldest men ever seen the English so daring and intrepid; but on the French fell a panic of fear, and some of the noblest of them surrendered more than ten times, but there was no 232 leisure to make prisoners, and they were all cut down, and the multitude, coming on with undisciplined violence, fell down on the dead bodies before them, and were slaughtered as they lay. And where our standards were the dead lay heaped to the height of a man. Then, when the rest had taken flight, our men separated the living from the dead, proposing to keep them for ransom. But there rose a cry that the enemy’s horsemen had gathered together again, and were coming upon our wearied men. Then all the prisoners were put to death without mercy, excepting the Dukes of Orleans and Bourbon and a very few others. But the enemy gave way at the King’s approach, and left to us the bloody field, with their waggons and victuals, and stores of lances, arrows, and bolts.
And when the force of the enemy had been dispersed, and the battle was finished, we returned victorious through the heaps of slain. We could not refrain from grief and tears at the sight of so many soldiers, valiant and renowned when God was with them, who had sought their deaths at our hands. And if the sight awakened pity and compunction in us strangers, how much greater was the weeping and mourning of the people of the land! And truly I think there is no heart of flesh nor of stone that could have seen without tears the cruel deaths and bitter wounds of so many Christians.
And there fell of them the Dukes of Brabant, Bar, and Alençon, five earls, and more than ninety barons, a thousand five hundred knights, and between four and five thousand other nobles. And there were 233 taken, besides the Dukes of Orleans and Bourbon, the Earls of Richemont, Vendôme, and Eu, with the Lord Boucicault, marshal of France, and a few others. But great was the joy and wonder of our men when they found that of our men had fallen but nine or ten with the noble Duke of York, and the young Lord Michael, earl of Suffolk. And Duke Humphrey of Gloucester, the King’s brother, receiving as he gave to others, was grievously wounded in the King’s company, but after his coming to Calais he recovered.
Then, after the battle was over, the King, having rested that night in the same spot as he did the night before, set out on his way to Calais, and he came to the place on the day after the Feast of St. Simon and St. Jude; and the Saturday after Martinmas the Lord de Gaucourt and the other captives of Harfleur having come to him, he returned into England and came to the port of Dover.
And having rested there one day, he took his way by Canterbury to his manor of Eltham, proposing to enter his City of London on the following Saturday; and the citizens made great preparations to receive him worthily. And when the day was come they went out to Blackheath to meet him, the Mayor and twenty-three aldermen in scarlet, and the rest in red garments with red and white hoods. In all there were about twenty thousand horses, and they bore the signs of their several crafts. And about the tenth 234 hour the King came to them; and when they had given thanks to God for his victory, and had congratulated him, they led the way back to the City, followed by the King with a small company.
And when they were come to the bridge, on the tower at the entrance was a great statue, bearing, like a champion, a great axe in his right hand and the keys of the city in his left; and on his left hand stood the statue of a woman clad in scarlet; and around were the royal banners, and the trumpets and clarions sounded, and beneath was written, ‘Civitas Regis justitiæ.’ Then, as they passed along, they saw on each side a little tower, painted to look like marble and green jasper; and on one was an antelope with the royal sceptre in his right foot and the arms round his neck, and on the other a lion erect, bearing in his right claws the royal standard unfurled. Over the road was another tower, and beneath a splendid pavilion was a statue of St. George with a laurel-wreath studded with pearls, and on his right hung his helmet, and on his left his shield. And in a house near were a great number of boys dressed in white, like angels with glittering wings, who sang with sweet voices to the sound of organs the English canticle: —
‘Deo gratias Anglia redde pro victoria!
Our King went forth to Normandy,
With grace and might of chivalry;
The God for him wrought marvellously,
Wherefore England may call and cry,
Deo gratias, &c.
235He set a siege, the sooth for to say,
To Harfleur town, with royal array;
The town he won, and made a fray
That France shall rue till doomsday!
Deo gratias, &c.
Then went our King with all his host
Through France, for all the French boast
He spared for dread of least nor most
Till he came to Agincourt coast.
Deo gratias, &c.
Then, forsooth, that knight comely,
In Agincourt field he fought manly;
Through grace of God most mighty,
He had both the field and the victory.
Deo gratias, &c.
Their dukes and earls, lord and baron,
Were take and slain, and that well soon;
And some were led into London,
With joy, and mirth, and great renown!
Deo gratias, &c.
Now, gracious God, He save our King,
His people, and all his well willing;
Give him good life, and good ending,
That we with mirth may safely sing,
Deo gratias, &c.
Then they came to the tower of the conduit at Cornhill, and it was decked with crimson cloth like a tent, and on it were the arms of St. George, St. Edmund, and St. Edward, with the arms of England; and beneath were written the words, ‘Because the king hopeth in the Lord, and in the mercy of the Most 236 High, he shall not be moved.’ And as the King passed by there came out of the tent a company of prophets, hoary with age, clad in gold, and with hoods of crimson and gold; and they set free a number of sparrows and little birds, who flew about the King, some resting on his breast and shoulders. And the prophets, bowing down before the King, began to sing the psalm, ‘Sing unto the Lord a new song. Hallelujah.’
And as they rode to the entrance of the street of Chepe there were men wearing the names of the twelve apostles, and of the twelve kings of England, martyrs, and confessors, who chanted melodious songs as the King passed by. And they sent him wafers of bread and wine from the conduit, that they might receive him as Melchisedek received Abraham when he returned from the slaughter of the kings.
When they came to the cross of Chepe, the cross could not be seen, for there was built round it a fair castle, with columns and arches covering the street, under which the people rode. And on it was built a place convenient for seeing, covered with tapestry; and into it came from the castle a company of fair maidens, clad in white, singing, as they did of old to David returning from the slaughter of Goliath, with timbrel and dance; and they sang, ‘Welcome, Henry the Fifth, king of England and France,’ while from the top to the bottom of the castle were to be seen innumerable little boys like angels, dressed in white, casting down upon our King coins of gold and boughs of laurel, while they sang Te Deum laudamus.
237Then, as they passed round to St. Paul’s, there were a number of little pavilions, and in each pavilion, like a statue, stood a fair maiden, with cups of gold in their hands; and as the King passed by they blew out of their cups leaves of gold upon his head. And above was a canopy like the sky, with clouds ingeniously wrought, and above an archangel in bright gold, and beneath the image of the sun, sending forth bright rays, with angels singing round. And there was written upon it, ‘Deo gratias!’
Moreover, the crowd in the streets was so great that the horsemen could scarce ride through them, and from every window and crevice were people gazing; and there were all the most noble ladies and honourable men in the kingdom gathered together, gaily clad in cloth of gold and crimson and bright apparel. And the King, clad in purple, without pride or arrogance, rode gravely, with few attendants, through the praises of the people, the dukes and earls, his prisoners, following him. And it might be seen, from his grave demeanour, that he gave the praise to God alone. Thus he came to the church of St. Paul’s, and there offered, and thence passed to his palace of Westminster.
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