The English king waited some time for an answer to a challenge he had sent
to the Duke of Aquitaine to decide their quarrel by single combat; but
Aquitaine cared more for pleasure than for fighting, and sent no answer to
the cartel. It was open to Henry to have proceeded by sea to Calais, and
it was the advice of his counsellors that he should do so; but the king
declared that the French should never say that he was afraid to meet them,
and that as the country was his by right he would march wherever he
pleased across it; and so, after leaving a thousand archers and five
hundred men-at-arms under the command of the Duke of Exeter, he set out on
the 6th of October on his adventurous journey.
Accounts differ as to the number that started with him, some French
historians put it as high as 17,000, but it is certain that it could not
have exceeded nine thousand men, of whom two thousand were men-at-arms and
the rest archers. Now, while the siege of Harfleur had been going on, the
arrangements for the embarkation of the troops and stores carried out, and
the town put in a state of defence, troops had been marching from all
points of France at the command of the French king to join him at Rouen,
so that here and in Picardy two great armies were already assembled, the
latter under the command of the constable.
The English force marched by the sea-shore until it arrived at the river
Somme. No great resistance was encountered, but large bodies of the
enemy's horse hovered near and cut off all stragglers, and rendered it
difficult to obtain food, so that sickness again broke out among the
troops. On reaching the Somme Henry followed its left bank up, intending
to cross at the ford of La Blanche-Tache, across which Edward the Third
had carried his army before fighting at Crecy.
The French, as on the previous occasion, held the ford; but they this time
had erected defences on each of the banks, and had strong posts driven
into the bed of the river. Still ascending along the river bank the
English found every bridge broken and every ford fortified, while a great
body of troops marched parallel with them on the right bank of the river.
At Pont St. Remy, Ponteau de Mer, and several other points they tried in
vain to force a passage. Seven days were spent in these attempts; the
troops, suffering terrible hardships, were disheartened at their failure
to cross the river, and at finding themselves getting farther and farther
from the sea. On the morning of the 19th, however, a ford was discovered
which had not been staked. The English vanguard at once made a dash across
it, repulsed its defenders on the other bank, and the whole army with its
baggage, which was of scanty dimensions, swarmed across the river.
Sir Eustace, with his little force, now reduced to half its number, was,
as it happened, in front of the army when the ford was discovered, and,
followed by his two esquires and ten mounted men-at-arms, dashed into the
river, while the archers, slinging their bows behind them, drew their axes
and followed. For a short time there was a desperate conflict, but as
reinforcements hurried across, the fight became more even and the French
speedily gave way. When the king had crossed he thanked Sir Eustace for
his prompt action.
"Had you waited to send back for orders," he said, "the French would have
come up in such numbers that the ford would not have been won without
heavy loss, whereas by dashing across the moment it was discovered, you
took the defenders by surprise and enabled us to get over without the loss
of a single man."
The constable, disconcerted at finding that all his plans for keeping the
English on the left bank of the river were foiled, fell back to St. Pol in
Artois. Henry followed, but without haste. His small force was greatly
reduced by sickness, while by this time the whole of the royal army had
marched round and joined that of the constable. On the day after the
passage had been effected three heralds arrived in the English camp to
acquaint the king with the resolution of the constable and of the Dukes of
Orleans and Brabant to give his army battle before he reached Calais.
Henry replied that fear of them would not induce him to move out of his
way or to change the order of his march; he intended to go on straight by
the road to Calais, and if the French attempted to stop him it would be at
their peril; he accordingly continued to advance at the same rate as
before.
The constable fell back from St. Pol and took up his post between the
villages of Ruissanville and Agincourt, where, having received all the
reinforcements he expected, he determined to give battle. On the 24th the
English crossed the Ternois at Blangi, and soon afterwards came in sight
of the enemy's columns. These fell back as he advanced, and towards
evening he halted at the village of Maisoncelles, within half a mile of
the enemy's position. Fortunately provisions had been obtained during the
day's march; these were cooked and served out, and the English lay down to
sleep. The king sent for Sir Eustace.
"You know this ground well, I suppose, Sir Eustace," he said, "for your
Castle of Villeroy is not many miles distant?"
"'Tis but six miles away," the knight replied. "It is a good ground to
fight on, for facing it are fields, and on either flank of these are large
woods, so that there will be little space for the enemy to move."
"That is just what I would have," the king said. "Were they but half as
strong as they are I should feel less confident that we should defeat
them; their numbers will hinder them, and the deep wet ground will hamper
their movements. As for ourselves, I would not have a man more with me if
I could; the fewer we are the greater the glory if we conquer, while if we
are defeated the less the loss to England. Does your young esquire also
know the ground, Sir Eustace?"
"Yes, sire; he has, I know, often ridden here when hawking."
"Then let him go with four of my officers, who are about to reconnoitre
the ground and see where we had best fight."
Guy was accordingly called up and started with the officers. He first took
them up to the wood on the right of the French division, then they moved
across its front at a distance of fifty yards only from the French line.
The contrast between it and the English camp was great. In the latter all
was quiet. The men after a hearty meal had lain down to sleep, heeding
little the wet ground and falling rain, exhausted by their long marching,
and in good spirits,--desperate though the odds seemed against them,--that
they were next day to meet their foes. In the French camp all was noise
and confusion. Each body of troops had come on the ground under its own
commander, and shouts, orders, and inquiries sounded from all quarters.
Many of the Frenchmen never dismounted all the night, thinking it better
to remain on horseback than to lie down on wet ground. Great fires were
lighted and the soldiers gathered round these, warming themselves and
drinking, and calculating the ransoms to be gained by the capture of the
king and the great nobles of England. Knights and men-at-arms rode about
in search of their divisions, their horses slipping and floundering in the
deep clay.
Passing along the line of the French army Guy and the officers proceeded
to the wood on the left, and satisfied themselves that neither there nor
on the other flank had any large body of men been posted. They then
returned and made their report to the king. Guy wrapped himself in his
cloak and lay down and slept until the moon rose at three o'clock, when
the whole army awoke and prepared for the day's work. The English king
ordered the trumpeters and other musicians who had been brought with the
army to play merry tunes, and these during the three hours of darkness
cheered the spirits of the men and helped them to resist the depressing
influence of the cold night air following upon their sleep on the wet
ground. The French, on the other hand, had no manner of musical
instruments with their army, and all were fatigued and depressed by their
long vigil.
The horses had suffered as-much as the men from damp, sleeplessness, and
want of forage. There was, however, no want of confidence in the French
army--all regarded victory as absolutely certain. As the English had lost
by sickness since they left Harfleur fully a thousand men out of the
9,000, and as against these were arrayed at least a hundred thousand--some
French historians estimate them at 150,000--comprising most of the
chivalry of France, the latter might well regard victory as certain. There
were, however, some who were not so confident; among these was the old
Duke of Berri, who had fought at Poitiers sixty years before, and
remembered how confident the French were on that occasion, and how
disastrous was the defeat. His counsel that the English should be allowed
to march on unmolested to Calais, had been scouted by the French leaders,
but he had so far prevailed that the intention that Charles should place
himself at the head of the army was abandoned.
"It would be better," the duke had urged, "to lose the battle than to lose
the king and the battle together."
As soon as day broke the English were mustered and formed up, and three
masses were celebrated at different points in order that all might hear.
When this was done the force was formed up into three central divisions
and two wings, but the divisions were placed so close together that they
practically formed but one. The whole of the archers were placed in
advance of the men-at-arms. Every archer, in addition to his arms, carried
a long stake sharpened at both ends, that which was to project above the
ground being armed with a sharp tip of iron. When the archers had taken up
their positions these stakes were driven obliquely into the ground, each
being firmly thrust in with the strength of two or three men. As the
archers stood many lines deep, placed in open order and so that each could
shoot between the heads of the men in front of him, there were sufficient
stakes in front of the line to form a thick and almost impassable
_chevaux-de-frise_. The baggage and horses were sent to the rear, near the
village of Maisoncelles, under a guard of archers and men-at-arms. When
all the arrangements were made, the king rode along the line from rank to
rank, saying a few words of encouragement to each group of men. He
recounted to them the victories that had been won against odds as great as
those they had to encounter, and told them that he had made up his own
mind to conquer or die, for that England should never have to pay ransom
for him.
The archers he fired especially by reminding them that when the Orleanists
had taken Soissons a few months before they had hung up like dogs three
hundred English archers belonging to the garrison. He told them that they
could expect no mercy, for that, as the French in other sieges had
committed horrible atrocities upon their own countrymen and countrywomen,
they would assuredly grant no mercy to the English; while the latter on
their march had burned no town nor village, and had injured neither man
nor woman, so that God would assuredly fight for them against their wicked
foes. The king's manner as much as his words aroused the enthusiasm of the
soldiers; his expression was calm, confident, and cheerful, he at least
evidently felt no doubt of the issue.
The Duke of Berri had most strongly urged on the council that the French
should not begin the attack. They had done so at Crecy and Poitiers with
disastrous effect, and he urged them to await the assault of the English.
The latter, however, had no intention of attacking, for Henry had
calculated upon the confusion that would surely arise when the immense
French army, crowded up between the two woods, endeavoured to advance. The
men were therefore ordered to sit down on the ground, and food and some
wine were served, out to them.
The constable was equally determined not to move; the French therefore
also sat down, and for some hours the two armies watched each other. The
constable had, however, some difficulty in maintaining his resolution. The
Duke of Orleans and numbers of the hot-headed young nobles clamoured to be
allowed to charge the English. He himself would gladly have waited until
joined by large reinforcements under the Duke of Brittany and the Marshal
de Loigny, who were both expected to arrive in the course of the day. As
an excuse for the delay, rather than from any wish that his overtures
should be accepted, he sent heralds to the English camp to offer Henry a
free passage if he would restore Harfleur, with all the prisoners that he
had made there and on his march, and resign his claims to the throne of
France. Henry replied that he maintained the conditions he had laid down
by his ambassadors, and that he would accept none others. He had, in fact,
no wish to negotiate, for he, too, knew that the French would very shortly
be largely reinforced, and that were he to delay his march, even for a day
or two, his army would be starved.
Perceiving at last that the constable was determined not to begin the
battle, he sent off two detachments from the rear of his army, so that
their movements should be concealed from the sight of the French. One of
these, composed of archers, was to take post in the wood on the left hand
of the French, the other was to move on through the wood, to come down in
their rear, and to set on fire some barns and houses there, and so create
a panic. He waited until noon, by which time he thought that both
detachments would have reached the posts assigned to them, and then gave
the orders for the advance. The archers were delighted when their
commander, Sir Thomas Erpingham, repeated the order. None of them had put
on his armour, and many had thrown off their jerkins so as to have a freer
use of their arms either for bow or axe. Each man plucked up his stake,
and the whole moved forward in orderly array until within bow-shot of the
enemy. Then the archers again stuck their stakes into the ground, and,
taking up their position as before, raised a mighty shout as they let fly
a volley of arrows into the enemy.
The shout was echoed from the wood on the French left, and the archers
there at once plied their bows, and from both flank and front showers of
arrows fell among the French. As originally formed up, the latter's van
should have been covered by archers and cross-bowmen, but, from the
anxiety of the knights and nobles to be first to attack, the footmen had
been pushed back to the rear, a position which they were doubtless not
sorry to occupy, remembering how at Crecy the cross-bowmen had been
trampled down and slain by the French knights, desirous of getting through
them to attack the English. Therefore, there stood none between the
archers and the French array of knights, and the latter suffered heavily
from the rain of arrows. Sir Clugnet de Brabant was the first to take the
offensive, and with twelve hundred men-at-arms charged down upon the
archers with loud shouts. The horses, however, were stiff and weary from
standing so long in order; the deep and slippery ground, and the weight of
their heavily-armed riders caused them to stagger and stumble, and the
storm of arrows that smote them as soon as they got into motion added to
the disorder.
So accurate was the aim of the archers, that most of the arrows struck the
knights on their helmets and vizors. Many fell shot through the brain, and
so terrible was the rain of arrows that all had to bend down their heads
so as to save their faces. Many of the archers, too, shot at the horses;
some of these were killed and many wounded, and the latter swerving and
turning aside added to the confusion. And when at length Sir Clugnet and
the leaders reached the line of stakes in front of the archers, only about
a hundred and fifty of the twelve hundred men were behind them.
The horses drew up on reaching the hedge of stakes. Their riders could
give them no guidance, for without deigning to move from their order the
archers continued to keep up their storm of arrows, which at such close
quarters pierced all but the very finest armour, while it was certain
death to the knights to raise their heads to get a glance at the
situation. The horses, maddened with the pain of the arrows, soon settled
the matter. Some turned and rushed off madly, carrying confusion into the
ranks of the first division, others galloped off to the right or left, and
of the twelve hundred men who charged, three only broke through the line
of stakes, and these were instantly killed by the bill-hooks and axes of
the archers.
The second line of battle was now in disorder, broken by the fugitive men
and horses of Sir Clugnet's party, smitten with the arrows to which they
had been exposed as that party melted away, and by those of the English
archers in the wood on their flank. The confusion heightened every moment
as wounded knights tried to withdraw from the fight, and others from
behind struggled to take their places in front. Soon the disorder became
terrible. The archers plucked up their stakes and ran forward; the French
line recoiled at their approach in order to get into fairer order; and the
archers, with loud shouts of victory, slung their bows behind them,
dropped the stakes, and with axe and bill-hook rushed at the horsemen.
These were too tightly wedged together to use their lances, and as they
had retired they had come into newly-ploughed ground, which had been so
soaked by the heavy rain that the horses sank in the deep mud to their
knees, many almost to their bellies. Into the midst of this helpless crowd
of armed men the English archers burst. Embarrassed by their struggling
horses, scarcely able to wield their arms in the press, seeing but
scantily, and that only in front through the narrow slits of their vizors,
the chivalry of France died almost unresistingly.
The Constable of France and many of the highest nobles and most
distinguished knights fell, and but few of the first line made their
escape: these, passing through the second division, in order to draw up
behind, threw this also into some confusion. The Duke de Brabant, who had
just arrived on the field, charged down upon the flank of the archers.
These met him fearlessly, and he and most of those with him were killed.
This fight had, however, given time to the second division to close up
their ranks. The archers would have attacked them, but the king caused the
signal for them to halt to be sounded, and riding up formed them in order
again. The French were unable to take advantage of the moment to try and
recover their lost ground, for the horses were knee-deep in the ground,
upon which they had all night been trampling, and into which the weight of
their own and their riders' armour sunk them deeply.
"Now, my lords," the king said, turning to those around him, "our brave
archers have done their share; it is our turn;" and then, as arranged, all
dismounted and marched forward against the enemy.
In accordance with his orders, Sir Eustace de Villeroy and Guy were posted
close to the king, while John Harpen led the men-at-arms from Summerley.
For a time the battle raged fiercely. In the centre fought the king with
his nobles and knights; while the archers, who had most of them thrown off
their shoes and were able to move lightly over the treacherous ground,
threw themselves upon the enemy's flanks, and did dreadful execution
there. In the centre, however, the progress of the English was slower. The
French knights made the most desperate efforts to attack the king himself,
and pressed forward to reach the royal banner. His brother, the Duke of
Clarence, was wounded, and would have been killed had not the king
himself, with a few of his knights, taken post around him, and kept off
the attacks of his foes until he recovered his feet. Almost immediately
afterwards a band of eighteen knights, under the banner of the Lord of
Croye, who had bound themselves by an oath to take or kill the king,
charged down upon him. One of them struck him so heavy a blow on the head
with a mace that the king was beaten to his knee, but his knights closed
in round him, and every one of his assailants was killed.
The Duke of Alençon next charged down with a strong following; he cut his
way to the royal standard, and struck the Duke of York dead with a blow of
his battle-axe. Henry sprung forward, but Alençon's weapon again fell, and
striking him on the head clipped off a portion of the crown which Henry
wore round his helmet. But before the French knight could repeat the
stroke Guy Aylmer sprung forward and struck so heavy a blow full on the
duke's vizor that he fell from his horse dead. His fall completed the
confusion and dismay among the French, and the second division of their
army, which had hitherto fought gallantly, now gave way. Many were taken
prisoners. The third division, although alone vastly superior in numbers
to the English, seeing the destruction of the others, began to draw off.
They had moved but a short distance when loud shouts were heard in the
English rear. Two or three French knights, with a body of several hundred
armed peasants, had suddenly fallen upon the English baggage and horses
which had been left at Maisoncelles. Many of the guard had gone off to
join in the battle, so that the attack was successful, a portion of the
baggage, including the king's own wardrobe, and a great number of horses
being captured.
Ignorant of the strength of the attacking party, Henry believed that it
was the reinforcements under the Duke of Brittany that had come up. At the
same moment the third division of the French, whose leaders were also
similarly deceived, halted and faced round. Believing that he was about to
be attacked in front and rear by greatly superior forces, Henry gave the
order that all prisoners should be killed, and the order was to a great
extent executed before the real nature of the attack was discovered and
the order countermanded. The third division of the French now continued
its retreat, and the battle was over. There remained but to examine the
field and see who had fallen.
The king gave at once the name of Agincourt to the battle, as this village
possessed a castle, and was therefore the most important of those near
which the fight had taken place. Properly the name should have been
Azincourt, as this was the French spelling of the village. The loss of the
French was terrible, and their chivalry had suffered even more than at
Poitiers. Several of the relations of the French king were killed. The
Duke of Brabant, the Count de Nevers, the Duke of Bar and his two
brothers, the constable, and the Duke of Alençon all perished. No less
than a hundred and twenty great lords were killed, and eight thousand
nobles, knights, and esquires lost their lives, with some thousands of
lower degree, while the Duke of Orleans, the Duke of Bourbon, and many
others were taken prisoners.
The accounts of the English loss differ considerably, the highest placing
it at sixteen hundred, the lowest at one-fourth of that number. The
plunder taken by them in the shape of costly armour, arms, rich garments,
and the trappings of horses, was great; but of food there was but little,
many of the victors lay down supperless around the village of
Maisoncelles.
The knights who had led the peasants to the attack of the baggage-train,
instead of joining in the fight, and had thereby caused the unfortunate
massacre of so many prisoners, fell into great disgrace among the French
for their conduct, and were imprisoned for some years by the Duke of
Burgundy.
That evening the English king knighted many esquires and aspirants of
noble families, among them Guy Aylmer, who was indeed the first to receive
the honour.
"No one fought more bravely than you did, young knight," he said, as Guy
rose to his feet after receiving the accolade; "I will see that you have
lands to support your new dignity. Twice you were at my side when I was in
the greatest danger, and none have won their spurs more fairly."
John Harpen would also have been among those knighted, but he declined the
honour, saying that he was not come of gentle blood, and wished for
nothing better than to remain his lord's esquire so long as he had
strength to follow him in the field.
The next morning the army marched to Calais. The king turned aside with
Sir Eustace, and with a strong party rode to Villeroy. Guy had gone on
with the men-at-arms at daybreak, and a banquet had been prepared, and
twenty cartloads of grain and a hundred bullocks sent off to meet the army
on its march.
"'Tis a fine castle, Sir Eustace," the king said as he rode in, "but truly
it is perilously situated. If after this I can make good terms with France
I will see that the border shall run outside your estates; but if not,
methinks that it were best for you to treat with some French noble for its
sale, and I will see that you are equally well bestowed in England, for in
truth, after fighting for us at Agincourt, you are like to have but little
peace here."
"I would gladly do so, my lord king," Sir Eustace replied. "During the
last three years it has been a loss rather than a gain to me. I have had
to keep a large garrison here; the estate has been wasted, and the houses
and barns burned. Had it not been that there was for most of the time a
truce between England and France I should have fared worse. And now I may
well be attacked as soon as your majesty and the army cross to England."
"You will have a little breathing time," the king said; "they will have
enough to do for a while to mourn their losses. I will not leave behind
any of your brave fellows who have fought so hard here, but when I arrive
at Calais will order two hundred men of the garrison to come over to
reinforce you until you can make arrangements to get rid of the castle, if
it is not to remain within my territory."
Sir Eustace introduced Sir John Aylmer as the father of the newly-made
knight.
"You have a gallant son, Sir John," the king said, "and one who is like to
make his way to high distinction. I doubt not that before we have done
with the French he will have fresh opportunities of proving his valour."
After the meal was over the king went round the walls.
"'Tis a strong place," he said, "and yet unless aid reached you, you could
not resist an army with cannon and machines."
"I have long seen that, your majesty, and have felt that I should have to
choose between England and France, for that, when war broke out again, I
could not remain a vassal of both countries."
"It shall be my duty to show you that you have not chosen wrongly, Sir
Eustace. I cannot promise to maintain you here, for you might be attacked
when I have no army with which I could succour you. As soon as I return
home and learn which of those who have fallen have left no heirs, and
whose lands therefore have come into my gift, I will then make choice of a
new estate for you."
The army marched slowly to Calais. It was weakened by sickness and hunger,
and every man was borne down by the weight of the booty he carried. On
arriving there the king held a council, and it was finally determined to
return to England. The force under his command was now but the skeleton of
an army. Fresh men and money were required to continue the war, and he
accordingly set sail, carrying with him his long train of royal and noble
prisoners. The news of the victory created the greatest enthusiasm in
England. At Dover the people rushed into the sea and carried the king to
shore on their shoulders. At Canterbury and the other towns through which
he passed he received an enthusiastic welcome, while his entry into London
was a triumph. Every house was decorated, the conduits ran with wine
instead of water, and the people were wild with joy and enthusiasm. Great
subsidies were granted him by Parliament, and the people in their joy
would have submitted to any taxation. However, throughout his reign Henry
always showed the greatest moderation; he kept well within constitutional
usages, and his pleasant, affable manner secured for him throughout his
reign the love and devotion of his subjects.
On his arrival at Calais Guy discovered that among the prisoners was his
friend Count Charles d'Estournel.
"I am grieved indeed to see you in this plight," he exclaimed as he met
him.
"'Tis unfortunate truly, Aylmer, but it might have been worse; better a
prisoner than among the dead at Agincourt," the light-hearted young count
said; "but truly it has been an awful business. Who could have dreamt of
it? I thought myself that the council were wrong when they refused all the
offers of the towns to send bodies of footmen to fight beside us; had they
been there, they might have faced those terrible archers of yours, for
they at least would have been free to fight when we were all but helpless
in that quagmire. I see that you have knightly spurs on, and I
congratulate you."
"Now, Count, what can I do to ensure your release at once? Whose prisoner
are you?"
"I surrendered to one John Parsons, an esquire, and I shall, of course, as
soon as we get to England, send home to raise money for my ransom."
"I know him well," Guy said; "his lord's tent was pitched alongside that
of Sir Eustace, before Harfleur, and we saw much of each other, and often
rode together on the march. If I gave him my guarantee for your ransom, I
doubt not that he will take your pledge, and let you depart at once."
"I should be glad indeed if you would do so, Aylmer."
"At any rate he will take the guarantee of Sir Eustace," Guy said, "which
will, I know, be given readily, after the service you rendered to his
dame, and it may be that you will have it in your power to do him a
service in return." He then told the count of the intention of Sir Eustace
to sell the estate, or rather to arrange for its transfer.
"It is held directly from the crown," he said, "but just at present the
crown is powerless. Artois is everywhere Burgundian, and it would
certainly be greatly to the advantage of Burgundy that it should be held
by one of his followers, while it would be to the safety of France that it
should be held by a Frenchman, rather than by one who is also a vassal of
England."
"I should think that that could be managed," the count said thoughtfully.
"I will speak to my father. I am, as you know, his second son, but through
my mother, who is a German, I have an estate on the other side of the
Rhine. This I would gladly exchange--that is to say, would part with to
some German baron--if I could obtain the fief of Villeroy. I have no doubt
that Burgundy would not only consent, but would help, for, as you know by
the manner in which your lady was made a hostage, he looked with great
jealousy on this frontier fortress, which not only gives a way for the
English into Artois, but which would, in the hands of an Orleanist,
greatly aid an invasion of the province from Pontoise and the west. And,
although the court would just at present object to give the fief to a
Burgundian, it is powerless to interfere, and when the troubles are over,
the duke would doubtless be able to manage it."
Guy had no difficulty in arranging the matter with D'Estournel's captor,
to whom Sir Eustace and he both gave their surety that his ransom should
be paid; and, before sailing, Guy had the satisfaction of seeing his
friend mount and ride for St. Omar with a pass through the English
territory from the governor.