[Illustration: 1_256_henry5.jpg HENRY V.]
HENRY V.
{1413.} THE many jealousies to which Henry IV.’s situation naturally
exposed him, had so infected his temper, that he had entertained
unreasonable suspicions with regard to the fidelity of his eldest son;
and during the latter years of his life, he had excluded that prince
from all share in public business, and was even displeased to see him
at the head of armies, where his martial talents, though useful to the
support of government, acquired him a renown, which he thought might
prove dangerous to his own authority. The active spirit of young Henry,
restrained from its proper exercise, broke out into extravagances of
every kind; and the riot of pleasure, the frolic of debauchery, the
outrage of wine, filled the vacancies of a mind better adapted to the
pursuits of ambition and the cares of government. This course of life
threw him among companions, whose disorders, if accompanied with
spirit and humor, he indulged and seconded; and he was detected in many
sallies, which, to severer eyes, appeared totally unworthy of his rank
and station. There even remains a tradition that, when heated with
liquor and jollity, he scrupled not to accompany his riotous associates
in attacking the passengers on the streets and highways, and despoiling
them of their goods; and he found an amusement in the incidents which
the terror and regret of these defenceless people produced on such
occasions. This extreme of dissoluteness proved equally disagreeable
to his father, as that eager application to business which had at first
given him occasion of jealousy; and he saw in his son’s behavior the
same neglect of decency, the same attachment to low company, which had
degraded the personal character of Richard, and which, more than all his
errors in government, had tended to overturn his throne. But the
nation in general considered the young prince with more indulgence; and
observed so many gleams of generosity, spirit, and magnanimity, breaking
continually through the cloud which a wild conduct threw over his
character, that they never ceased hoping for his amendment; and they
ascribed all the weeds, which shot up in that rich soil, to the want
of proper culture and attention in the king and his ministers. There
happened an incident which encouraged these agreeable views, and gave
much occasion for favorable reflections to all men of sense and candor.
A riotous companion of the prince’s had been indicted before Gascoigne,
the chief justice, for some disorders; and Henry was not ashamed to
appear at the bar with the criminal, in order to give him countenance
and protection. Finding that his presence had not overawed the chief
justice, he proceeded to insult that magistrate on his tribunal; but
Gascoigne, mindful of the character which he then bore, and the majesty
of the sovereign and of the laws which he sustained, ordered the prince
to be carried to prison for his rude behavior.[*] The spectators were
agreeably disappointed, when they saw the heir of the crown submit
peaceably to this sentence, make reparation for his error by
acknowledging it, and check his impetuous nature in the midst of its
extravagant career.
The memory of this incident, and of many others of a like nature,
rendered the prospect of the future reign nowise disagreeable to the
nation, and increased the joy which the death of so unpopular a prince
as the late king naturally occasioned. The first steps taken by the
young prince confirmed all those prepossessions entertained in his
favor.[**] He called together his former companions, acquainted them
with his intended reformation, exhorted them to imitate his example, but
strictly inhibited them, till they had given proofs of their sincerity
in this particular, from appearing any more in his presence; and he thus
dismissed them with liberal presents.[***]
* Hall, fol, 33.
** Walsing, p. 382.
*** Hall, fol. 33. Holingshed, p. 543. Godwin’s Life of
Henry V, p. 1
The wise ministers of his father, who had checked his riots, found that
they had unknowingly been paying the highest court to him; and were
received with all the marks of favor and confidence. The chief justice
himself, who trembled to approach the royal presence, met with praises
instead of reproaches for his past conduct, and was exhorted to
persevere in the same rigorous and impartial execution of the laws. The
surprise of those who expected an opposite behavior, augmented their
satisfaction; and the character of the young king appeared brighter than
if it had never been shaded by any errors.
But Henry was anxious not only to repair his own misconduct, but also to
make amends for those iniquities into which policy or the necessity of
affairs had betrayed his father. He expressed the deepest sorrow for
the fate of the unhappy Richard, did justice to the memory of that
unfortunate prince, even performed his funeral obsequies with pomp and
solemnity, and cherished all those who had distinguished themselves by
their loyalty and attachment towards him.[*] Instead of continuing the
restraints which the jealousy of his father had imposed on the earl
of Marche, he received that young nobleman with singular courtesy and
favor; and by this magnanimity so gained on the gentle and unambitious
nature of his competitor, that he remained ever after sincerely attached
to him, and gave him no disturbance in his future government. The family
of Piercy was restored to its fortune and honors.[**] The king seemed
ambitious to bury all party distinctions in oblivion: the instruments of
the preceding reign, who had been advanced from their blind zeal for
the Lancastrian interests, more than from their merits, gave place every
where to men of more honorable characters; virtue seemed now to have an
open career, in which it might exert itself: the exhortations, as well
as example of the prince, gave it encouragement: all men were unanimous
in their attachment to Henry; and the defects of his title were
forgotten, amidst the personal regard which was universally paid to him.
There remained among the people only one party distinction, which was
derived from religious differences, and which, as it is of a peculiar
and commonly a very obstinate nature, the popularity of Henry was not
able to overcome. The Lollards were every day increasing in the kingdom,
and were become a formed party, which appeared extremely dangerous
to the church, and even formidable to the civil authority.[***] The
enthusiasm by which these sectaries were generally actuated the great
alterations which they pretended to introduce, the hatred which they
expressed against the established hierarchy, gave an alarm to Henry;
who, either from a sincere attachment to the ancient religion, or from
a dread of the unknown consequences which attend all important changes,
was determined to execute the laws against such bold innovators.
* Hist. Croyland. Contin. Hall, fol. 34. Holing, p. 544.
** Holing, p. 545.
*** Walsing. p. 382.
The head of this sect was Sir John Oldcastle, Lord Cobham, a nobleman
who had distinguished himself by his valor and his military talents, and
had, on many occasions, acquired the esteem both of the late and of
the present king.[*] His high character and his zeal for the new sect
pointed him out to Arundel, archbishop of Canterbury, as the proper
victim of ecclesiastical severity, whose punishment would strike a
terror into the whole party, and teach them that they must expect
no mercy under the present administration. He applied to Henry for a
permission to indict Lord Cobham;[**] but the generous nature of
the prince was averse to such sanguinary methods of conversion. He
represented to the primate, that reason and conviction were the best
expedients for supporting truth; that all gentle means ought first to
be tried, in order to reclaim men from error; and that he himself
would endeavor, by a conversation with Cobham, to reconcile him to the
Catholic faith. But he found that nobleman obstinate in his opinions,
and determined not to sacrifice truths of such infinite moment to his
complaisance for sovereigns.[***]
* Walsing. p 382.
** Fox’s Acts and Monuments, p. 513.
*** Rymer, vol ix. p. 61. Walsing. p. 383.
Henry’s principles of toleration, or rather his love of the
practice, could carry him no farther; and he then gave full reins to
ecclesiastical severity against the inflexible heresiarch. The primate
indicted Cobham, and with the assistance of his three suffragans, the
bishops of London, Winchester, and St. David’s, condemned him to the
flames for his erroneous opinions. Cobham, who was confined in the
Tower, made his escape before the day appointed for his execution. The
bold spirit of the man, provoked by persecution and stimulated by zeal,
was urged to attempt the most criminal enterprises; and his unlimited
authority over the new sect proved that he well merited the attention
of the civil magistrate. He formed in his retreat very violent designs
against his enemies; and despatching his emissaries to all quarters,
appointed a general rendezvous of the party, in order to seize the
person of the king at Eltham, and put their persecutors to the sword.[*]
{1414.} Henry, apprised of their intention, removed to Westminster:
Cobham was not discouraged by this disappointment; but changed the place
of rendezvous to the field near St. Giles; the king, having shut the
gates of the city, to prevent any reënforcement to the Lollards from
that quarter, came into the field in the night-time, seized such of
the conspirators as appeared, and afterwards laid hold of the several
parties who were hastening to the place appointed. It appeared, that
a few only were in the secret of the conspiracy; the rest implicitly
followed their leaders: but upon the trial of the prisoners, the
treasonable designs of the sect were rendered certain, both from
evidence and from the confession of the criminals themselves.[**] Some
were executed; the greater number pardoned.[***] Cobham himself, who
made his escape by flight, was not brought to justice till four years
after; when he was hanged as a traitor; and his body was burnt on
the gibbet, in execution of the sentence pronounced against him as
a heretic.[****] This criminal design, which was perhaps somewhat
aggravated by the clergy, brought discredit upon the party, and checked
the progress of that sect, which had embraced the speculative doctrines
of Wickliffe, and at the same time aspired to a reformation of
ecclesiastical abuses.
* Walsing. p. 385.
** Cotton, p. 554. Hall, fol. 35. Holing, p. 544.
*** Rymer, vol. ix. p. 119, 129, 193.
**** Walsing. p. 400. Otterborne, p. 280. Holing, p. 561.
These two points were the great objects of the Lollards; but the bulk of
the nation was not affected in the same degree by both of them. Common
sense and obvious reflection had discovered to the people the advantages
of a reformation in discipline; but the age was not yet so far advanced
as to be seized with the spirit of controversy, or to enter into those
abstruse doctrines which the Lollards endeavored to propagate throughout
the kingdom. The very notion of heresy alarmed the generality of the
people: innovation in fundamental principles was suspicious: curiosity
was not, as yet, a sufficient counterpoise to authority; and even many,
who were the greatest friends to the reformation of abuses, were
anxious to express their detestation of the speculative tenants of the
Wickliffites, which, they feared, threw disgrace on so good a cause.
This turn of thought appears evidently in the proceedings of the
parliament which was summoned immediately after the detection of
Cobham’s conspiracy. That assembly passed severe laws against the new
heretics: they enacted, that whoever was convicted of Lollardy before
the ordinary besides suffering capital punishment according to the laws
formerly established, should also forfeit his lands and goods to the
king; and that the chancellor, treasurer, justices of the two benches,
sheriffs, justices of the peace, and all the chief magistrates in every
city and borough, should take an oath to use their utmost endeavors for
the extirpation of heresy.[*] Yet this very parliament, when the king
demanded supply, renewed the offer formerly pressed upon his father, and
entreated him to seize all the ecclesiastical revenues, and convert them
to the use of the crown.[**] The clergy were alarmed: they could offer
the king no bribe which was equivalent: they only agreed to confer
on him all the priories alien, which depended on capital abbeys in
Normandy, and had been bequeathed to these abbeys, when that province
remained united to England: and Chicheley, now archbishop of Canterbury,
endeavored to divert the blow by giving occupation to the king, and by
persuading him to undertake a war against France, in order to recover
his lost rights to that kingdom.[***]
* 2 Henry V. chap. 7.
** Hall, fol. 35.
*** Hall, fol. 35. 36.
It was the dying injunction of the late king to his son, not to allow
the English to remain long in peace, which was apt to breed intestine
commotions; but to employ them in foreign expeditions, by which the
prince might acquire honor; the nobility, in sharing his dangers, might
attach themselves to his person; and all the restless spirits find
occupation for their inquietude. The natural disposition of Henry
sufficiently inclined him to follow this advice, and the civil disorders
of France, which had been prolonged beyond those of England, opened a
full career to his ambition.
{1415.} The death of Charles V., which followed soon after that of
Edward III., and the youth of his son, Charles VI., put the two kingdoms
for some time in a similar situation; and it was not to be apprehended,
that either of them, during a minority, would be able to make much
advantage of the weakness of the other. The jealousies also between
Charles’s three uncles, the dukes of Anjou, Bern, and Burgundy, had
distracted the affairs of France rather more than those between the
dukes of Lancaster, York, and Gloucester. Richard’s three uncles,
disordered those of England; and had carried off the attention of the
French nation from any vigorous enterprise against foreign states. But
in proportion as Charles advanced in years, the factions were composed;
his two uncles, the dukes of Anjou and Burgundy, died; and the king
himself, assuming the reins of government, discovered symptoms of
genius and spirit, which revived the drooping hopes of his country. This
promising state of affairs was not of long duration: the unhappy prince
fell suddenly into a fit of frenzy, which rendered him incapable of
exercising his authority; and though he recovered from this disorder, he
was so subject to relapses, that his judgment was gradually but sensibly
impaired, and no steady plan of government could be pursued by him. The
administration of affairs was disputed between his brother, Lewis,
duke of Orleans, and his cousin-german, John, duke of Burgundy: the
propinquity to the crown pleaded in favor of the former: the latter,
who, in right of his mother, had inherited the county of Flanders, which
he annexed to his father’s extensive dominions, derived a lustre from
his superior power: the people were divided between these contending
princes; and the king, now resuming, now dropping his authority, kept
the victory undecided, and prevented any regular settlement of the state
by the final prevalence of either party.
At length, the dukes of Orleans and Burgundy, seeming to be moved by the
cries of the nation, and by the interposition of common friends, agreed
to bury all past quarrels in oblivion, and to enter into strict amity:
they swore before the altar the sincerity of their friendship; the
priest administered the sacrament to both of them; they gave to each
other every pledge which could be deemed sacred among men: but all this
solemn preparation was only a cover for the basest treachery, which was
deliberately premeditated by the duke of Burgundy. He procured his rival
to be assassinated in the streets of Paris: he endeavored for some time
to conceal the part which he took in the crime; but being detected, he
embraced a resolution still more criminal and more dangerous to society,
by openly avowing and justifying it.[*]
* Le Laboureur, liv. xxvii. chap. 23, 24.
The parliament itself of Paris, the tribunal of justice, heard the
harangues of the duke’s advocate in defence of assassination, which he
termed tyrannicide; and that assembly, partly influenced by faction,
partly overawed by power, pronounced no sentence of condemnation against
this detestable doctrine.[*]
* Le Laboureur, liv. xxvii. chap. 27. Monstrelet. chap. 39.
The same question was afterwards agitated before the council of
Constance; and it was with difficulty that a feeble decision in favor of
the contrary opinion, was procured from these fathers of the church, the
ministers of peace and of religion. But the mischievous effects of that
tenet, had they been before anywise doubtful, appeared sufficiently from
the present incidents. The commission of this crime, which destroyed
all trust and security, rendered the war implacable between the French
parties, and cut off every means of peace and accommodation. The princes
of the blood, combining with the young duke of Orleans and his brothers,
made violent war on the duke of Burgundy; and the unhappy king, seized
sometimes by one party, sometimes by the other, transferred alternately
to each of them the appearance of legal authority. The provinces were
laid waste by mutual depredations: assassinations were every where
committed, from the animosity of the several leaders; or, what was
equally terrible, executions were ordered, without any legal or
free trial, by pretended courts of judicature. The whole kingdom was
distinguished into two parties, the Burgundians and the Armagnacs; so
the adherents of the young duke of Orleans were called, from the count
of Armagnac, father-in-law to that prince. The city of Paris, distracted
between them, but inclining more to the Burgundians, was a perpetual
scene of blood and violence; the king and royal family were often
detained captives in the hands of the populace; their faithful ministers
were butchered or imprisoned before their face; and it was dangerous for
any man, amidst these enraged factions, to be distinguished by a strict
adherence to the principles of probity and honor.
During this scene of general violence, there rose into some
consideration a body of men, which usually makes no figure in public
transactions, even during the most peaceful times; and that was the
university of Paris, whose opinion was sometimes demanded, and more
frequently offered, in the multiplied disputes between the parties.
The schism by which the church was at that time divided, and which
occasioned frequent controversies in the university, had raised the
professors to an unusual degree of importance; and this connection
between literature and superstition had bestowed on the former a weight
to which reason and knowledge are not of themselves anywise entitled
among men. But there was another society, whose sentiments were much
more decisive, at Paris,--the fraternity of butchers, who, under the
direction of their ringleaders, had declared for the duke of Burgundy,
and committed the most violent outrages against the opposite party.
To counterbalance their power, the Armagnacs made interest with the
fraternity of carpenters; the populace ranged themselves on one side
or the other; and the fate of the capital depended on the prevalence of
either party.
The advantage which might be made of these confusions was easily
perceived in England; and, according to the maxims which usually
prevail among nations, it was determined to lay hold of the favorable
opportunity. The late king, who was courted by both the French parties,
fomented the quarrel, by alternately sending assistance to each; but
the present sovereign, impelled by the vigor of youth and the ardor of
ambition, determined to push his advantages to a greater length, and to
carry violent war into that distracted kingdom. But while he was
making preparations for this end, he tried to effect his purpose by
negotiation; and he sent over ambassadors to Paris, offering a perpetual
peace and alliance; but demanding Catharine, the French king’s daughter,
in marriage, two millions of crowns as her portion, one million six
hundred thousand as the arrears of King John’s ransom, and the immediate
possession and full sovereignty of Normandy, and of all the other
provinces which had been ravished from England by the arms of Philip
Augustus; together with the superiority of Brittany and Flanders.[*]
Such exorbitant demands show that he was sensible of the present
miserable condition of France; and the terms offered by the French
court, though much inferior, discover their consciousness of the
same melancholy truth. They were willing to give him the princess in
marriage, to pay him eight hundred thousand crowns, to resign the entire
sovereignty of Guienne, and to annex to that province the country of
Perigord, Rovergue Xaintonge, the Angoumois, and other territories.[**]
* Rymer, vol. ix. p. 208.
** Rymer, vol. ix. p. 211.
It is reported by some historians, (see Hist. Croyl. Cont. p. 500,) that
the dauphin, in derision of Henry’s claims and dissolute character, sent
him a box of tennis balls; intimating, that these implements of play
were better adapted to him than the instruments of war. But this story
is by no means credible; rejected these conditions, and scarcely hoped
that his own demands would be complied with, he never intermitted a
moment his preparations for war; and having assembled a great fleet and
army at Southampton, having invited all the nobility and military men of
the kingdom to attend him by the hopes of glory and of conquest, he came
to the sea-side with a purpose of embarking on his expedition.
But while Henry was meditating conquests upon his neighbors, he
unexpectedly found himself in danger from a conspiracy at home, which
was happily detected in its infancy. The earl of Cambridge, second son
of the late duke of York, having espoused the sister of the earl of
Marche, had zealously embraced the interests of that family; and had
held some conferences with Lord Scrope of Masham, and Sir Thomas Grey of
Heton, about the means of recovering to that nobleman his right to the
crown of England. The conspirators, as soon as detected, acknowledged
their guilt to the king; [*] and Henry proceeded without delay to their
trial and condemnation. The utmost that could be expected of the best
king in those ages, was, that he would so far observe the essentials of
justice, as not to make an innocent person a victim to his severity;
but as to the formalities of law, which are often as material as the
essentials themselves, they were sacrificed without scruple to the least
interest or convenience. A jury of commoners was summoned: the three
conspirators were indicted before them: the constable of Southampton
Castle swore that they had separately confessed their guilt to him:
without other evidence, Sir Thomas Grey was condemned and executed; but
as the earl of Cambridge and Lord Scrope pleaded the privilege of their
peerage, Henry thought proper to summon a court of eighteen barons, in
which the duke of Clarence presided: the evidence given before the jury
was read to them: the prisoners, though one of them was a prince of the
blood, were not examined, nor produced in court, nor heard in their own
defence; but received sentence of death upon this proof, which was
every way irregular and unsatisfactory; and the sentence was soon after
executed. The earl of Marche was accused of having given his approbation
to the conspiracy, and received a general pardon from the great offers
made by the court of France show that they had already entertained a
just idea of Henry’s character, as well as of their own situation.
The successes which the arms of England have, in different ages,
obtained over those of France, have been much owing to the favorable
situation of the former kingdom. The English, happily seated in an
island, could make advantage of every misfortune which attended their
neighbors, and were little exposed to the danger of reprisals. They
never left their own country but when they were conducted by a king
of extraordinary genius, or found their enemy divided by intestine
factions, or were supported by a powerful alliance on the continent;
and as all these circumstances concurred at present to favor their
enterprise, they had reason to expect from it proportionable success.
The duke of Burgundy, expelled France by a combination of the princes,
had been secretly soliciting the alliance of England; [**] and
Henry knew that this prince, though he scrupled at first to join
the inveterate enemy of his country, would willingly, if he saw any
probability of success, both assist him with his Flemish subjects,
and draw over to the same side all his numerous partisans in France.
Trusting, therefore, to this circumstance, but without establishing any
concert with the duke, he put to sea, and landed near Harfleur, at the
head of an army of six thousand men at arms, and twenty-four thousand
foot, mostly archers. He immediately began the siege of that place,
which was valiantly defended by D’Estouteville, and under him by De
Guitri, De Gaucourt, and others of the French nobility; but as the
garrison was weak, and the fortifications in bad repair, the governor
was at last obliged to capitulate; and he promised to surrender the
place, if he received no succor before the eighteenth of September. The
day came, and there was no appearance of a French army to relieve him.
Henry, taking possession of the town, placed a garrison in it, and
expelled all the French inhabitants, with an intention of peopling it
anew with English.
* Rymer, vol. ix. p. 303.
** St. Remi, chap. lv. Godwin, p. 65
The fatigues of this siege, and the unusual heat of the season, had
so wasted the English army, that Henry could enter on no further
enterprise; and was obliged to think of returning into England. He had
dismissed his transports, which could not anchor in an open road upon
the enemy’s coasts; and he lay under a necessity of marching by land to
Calais, before he could reach a place of safety. A numerous French army
of fourteen thousand men at arms and forty thousand foot, was by this
time assembled in Normandy under the constable D’Albret; a force which,
if prudently conducted, was sufficient either to trample down the
English in the open field, or to harass and reduce to nothing their
small army, before they could finish so long and difficult a march.
Henry, therefore, cautiously offered to sacrifice his conquest of
Harfleur for a safe passage to Calais; but his proposal being rejected,
he determined to make his way by valor and conduct through all the
opposition of the enemy.[*] That he might not discourage his army by the
appearance of flight, or expose them to those hazards which naturally
attend precipitate marches, he made slow and deliberate journeys,[*]
till he reached the Somme, which he purposed to pass at the ford of
Blanquetague, the same place where Edward, in a like situation, had
before escaped from Philip de Valois. But he found the ford rendered
impassable by the precaution of the French general, and guarded by a
strong body on the opposite bank;[*] and he was obliged to march higher
up the river, in order to seek for a safe passage. He was continually
harassed on his march by flying parties of the enemy; saw bodies of
troops on the other side ready to oppose every attempt; his provisions
were cut off; his soldiers languished with sickness and fatigue; and his
affairs seemed to be reduced to a desperate situation; when he was so
dexterous or so fortunate as to seize, by surprise, a passage near St.
Quintin, which had not been sufficiently guarded; and he safely carried
over his army.[**]
* Le Laboureur, liv. xxxv. chap. 6. * T. Livii, p. 12
** St. Remi, chap, 58. * T. Livii, p. 13
Henry then bent his march northwards to Calais; but he was still exposed
to great and imminent danger from the enemy, who had also passed
the Somme, and threw themselves full in his way, with a purpose of
intercepting his retreat. After he had passed the small river of Ternois
at Blangi, he was surprised to observe from the heights the whole French
army drawn up in the plains of Azincour, and so posted that it was
impossible for him to proceed on his march without coming to an
engagement. Nothing in appearance could be more unequal than the battle
upon which his safety and all his fortunes now depended. The English
army was little, more than half the number which had disembarked at
Harfleur; and they labored under every discouragement and necessity. The
enemy was four times more numerous; was headed by the dauphin and all
the princes of the blood; and was plentifully supplied with provisions
of every kind. Henry’s situation was exactly similar to that of Edward
at Crecy, and that of the Black Prince at Poietiers; and the memory of
these great events, inspiring the English with courage, made them
hope for a like deliverance from their present difficulties. The king
likewise observed the same prudent conduct which had been followed by
these great commanders: he drew up his army on a narrow ground between
two woods, which guarded each flank; and he patiently expected in that
posture the attack of the enemy.[*] Had the French constable been
able either to reason justly upon the present circumstances of the two
armies, or to profit by past experience, he had declined a combat, and
had waited till necessity, obliging the English to advance, had made
them relinquish the advantages of their situation. But the impetuous
valor of the nobility, and a vain confidence in superior numbers,
brought on this fatal action, which proved the source of infinite
calamities to their country. The French archers on horseback and their
men at arms, crowded in their ranks, advanced upon the English archers,
who had fixed palisadoes in their front to break the impression of
the enemy, and who safely plied them, from behind that defence, with a
shower of arrows, which nothing could resist.[**]
* St. Remi, chap. 62.
** Walsing. p. 392. T. Livii, p. 19. Le Laboureur, liv. xxxv
chap, 7. Monstrelet, chap. 147.
The clay soil, moistened by some rain which had lately fallen, proved
another obstacle to the force of the French cavalry: the wounded men and
horses discomposed their ranks: the narrow compass in which they were
pent hindered them from recovering any order: the whole army was a scene
of confusion, terror, and dismay: and Henry, perceiving his advantage,
ordered the English archers, who were light and unencumbered, to advance
upon the enemy, and seize the moment of victory. They fell with their
battle-axes upon the French, who, in their present posture, were
incapable either of flying or of making defence: they hewed them in
pieces without resistance:[*] and being seconded by the men at arms
who also pushed on against the enemy, they covered the field with the
killed, wounded, dismounted, and overthrown.
* Walsing. p. 393. Ypod. Neust. p. 584.
After all appearance of opposition was over, the English had leisure to
make prisoners; and having advanced with uninterrupted success to the
open plain, they there saw the remains of the French rear guard, which
still maintained the appearance of a line of battle. At the same time,
they heard an alarm from behind: some gentlemen of Picardy, having
collected about six hundred peasants, had fallen upon the English
baggage, and were doing execution on the unarmed followers of the camp,
who fled before them, Henry, seeing the enemy on all sides of him,
began to entertain apprehensions from his prisoners; and he thought
it necessary to issue general orders for putting them to death: but on
discovering the truth, he stopped the slaughter, and was still able to
save a great number.
No battle was ever more fatal to France, by the number of princes and
nobility slain or taken prisoners. Among the former were the constable
himself, the count of Nevers and the duke of Brabant, brothers to
the duke of Burgundy; the count of Vaudemont, brother to the duke of
Lorraine, the duke of Alençon, the duke of Barre, the count of Marle.
The most eminent prisoners were the dukes of Orleans and Bourbon, the
Counts d’Eu, Vendôme, and Richemont, and the mareschal of Boucicaut.
An archbishop of Sens also was slain in this battle. The killed are
computed on the whole to have amounted to ten thousand men; and as the
slaughter fell chiefly upon the cavalry, it is pretended that, of these,
eight thousand were gentlemen. Henry was master of fourteen thousand
prisoners. The person of chief note who fell among the English, was the
duke of York, who perished fighting by the king’s side, and had an end
more honorable than his life. He was succeeded in his honors and fortune
by his nephew, son of the earl of Cambridge, executed in the beginning
of the year. All the English who were slain exceeded not forty;
though some writers, with greater probability, make the number more
considerable.
The three great battles of Crecy, Poictiers, and Azincour bear
a singular resemblance to each other in their most considerable
circumstances. In all of them there appears the same temerity in the
English princes, who, without any object of moment, merely for the sake
of plunder, had ventured so far into the enemy’s country as to leave
themselves no retreat; and unless saved by the utmost imprudence in
the French commanders, were, from their very situation, exposed to
inevitable destruction. But allowance being made for this temerity,
which, according to the irregular plans of war followed in those ages,
seems to have been, in some measure, unavoidable there appears, in the
day of action, the same presence of mind, dexterity, courage, firmness,
and precaution on the part of the English; the same precipitation,
confusion, and vain confidence on the part of the French: and the events
were such as might have been expected from such opposite conduct. The
immediate consequences too of these three great victories were similar:
instead of pushing the French with vigor, and taking advantage of their
consternation, the English princes, after their victory, seem rather
to have relaxed their efforts, and to have allowed the enemy leisure to
recover from his losses. Henry interrupted not his march a moment after
the battle of Azincour; he carried his prisoners to Calais, thence to
England; he even concluded a truce with the enemy; and it was not till
after an interval of two years that any body of English troops appeared
in France.
The poverty of all the European princes, and the small resources of
their kingdoms, were the cause of these continual interruptions in their
hostilities; and though the maxims of war were in general destructive,
their military operations were mere incursions, which, without any
settled plan, they carried on against each other. The lustre, however,
attending the victory of Azincour, procured some supplies from the
English parliament; though still unequal to the expenses of a campaign.
They granted Henry an entire fifteenth of movables; and they conferred
on him for life the duties of tonnage and poundage, and the subsidies
on the exportation of wool and leather. This concession is more
considerable than that which had been granted to Richard II. by his last
parliament and which was afterwards, on his deposition, made so great an
article of charge against him.
But during this interruption of hostilities from England, France was
exposed to all the furies of civil war, and the several parties became
every day more enraged against each other. The duke of Burgundy,
confident that the French ministers and generals were entirely
discredited by the misfortune at Azincour, advanced with a great army
to Paris, and attempted to reinstate himself in possession of the
government, as well as of the person of the king. But his partisans in
that city were overawed by the court, and kept in subjection: the
duke despaired of success; and he retired with his forces, which he
immediately disbanded in the Low Countries.[*]
{1417.} He was soon after invited to make a new attempt, by some violent
quarrels which broke out in the royal family. The queen, Isabella,
daughter of the duke of Bavaria, who had been hitherto an inveterate
enemy to the Burgundian faction, had received a great injury from the
other party, which the implacable spirit of that princess was never
able to forgive. The public necessities obliged the count of Armagnac,
created constable of France in the place of D’Albret, to seize the
great treasures which Isabella had amassed: and when she expressed her
displeasure at this injury, he inspired into the weak mind of the king
some jealousies concerning her conduct, and pushed him to seize, and put
to the torture, and afterwards throw into the Seine, Boisbourdon, her
favorite, whom he accused of a commerce of gallantry with that princess.
The queen herself was sent to Tours, and confined under a guard;[**]
and after suffering these multiplied insults, she no longer scrupled to
enter into a correspondence with the duke of Burgundy. As her son,
the dauphin Charles, a youth of sixteen, was entirely governed by the
faction of Armagnac, she extended her animosity to him, and sought
his destruction with the most unrelenting hatred. She had soon an
opportunity of rendering her unnatural purpose effectual. The duke of
Burgundy, in concert with her, entered France at the head of a great
army: he made himself master of Amiens, Abbeville, Dourlens, Montreuil,
and other towns in Picardy; Senlis, Rheims, Chalons, Troye, and Auxerre,
declared themselves of his party.[***] He got possession of Beaumont,
Pontoise, Vernon, Meulant, Montlheri, towns in the neighborhood of
Paris; and carrying further his progress towards the west, he seized
Etampes, Chartres, and other fortresses; and was at last able to
deliver the queen, who fled to Troye, and openly declared against those
ministers who, she said, detained her husband in captivity.[****]
* Le Laboureur, liv. xxxv. chap. 10.
** St. Remi, chap. 74. Monstrelet, chap. 167.
*** St. Remi, chap. 79.
**** St. Remi, chap. 81. Monstrelet, chap. 178, 179.
Meanwhile the partisans of Burgundy raised a commotion in Paris, which
always inclined to that faction. Lile-Adam, one of the duke’s
captains, was received into the city in the night-time, and headed the
insurrection of the people, which in a moment became so impetuous that
nothing could oppose it. The person of the king was seized: the dauphin
made his escape with difficulty; great numbers of the faction of
Armagnac were immediately butchered: the count himself, and many persons
of note, were thrown into prison: murders were daily committed from
private animosity, under pretence of faction: and the populace, not
satiated with their fury, and deeming the course of public justice
too dilatory, broke into the prisons, and put to death the count of
Armagnac, and all the other nobility who were there confined.[*]
{1418.} While France was in such furious combustion, and was so ill
prepared to resist a foreign enemy, Henry, having collected some
treasure and levied an army, landed in Normandy at the head of
twenty-five thousand men; and met with no considerable opposition from
any quarter. He made himself master of Falaise; Evreux and Caen
submitted to him; Pont de l’Arche opened its gates; and Henry, having
subdued all the lower Normandy, and having received a reënforcement of
fifteen thousand men from England,[**] formed the siege of Rouen, which
was defended by a garrison of four thousand men, seconded by the
inhabitants, to the number of fifteen thousand.[***] The cardinal des
Ursins here attempted to incline him towards peace, and to moderate his
pretensions; but the king replied to him in such terms as showed that he
was fully sensible of all his present advantages: “Do you not see,” said
he, “that God has led me hither as by the hand? France has no sovereign:
I have just pretensions to that kingdom: every thing is here in the
utmost confusion: no one thinks of resisting me. Can I have a more
sensible proof, that the Being who disposes of empires has determined to
put the crown of France upon my head?” [****]
* St. Remi, chap. 85, 86. Monstrelet, chap. 118.
** Walsing. p. 100.
*** St. Remi, chap. 31
**** Juvenal des Ursins.
But though Henry had opened his mind to this scheme of ambition, he
still continued to negotiate with his enemies, and endeavored to obtain
more secure, though less considerable advantages. He made, at the same
time, offers of peace to both parties; to the queen and duke of Burgundy
on the one hand, who, having possession of the king’s person, carried
the appearance of legal authority;[*] and to the dauphin on the other,
who, being the undoubted heir of the monarchy, was adhered to by every
one that paid any regard to the true interests of their country.[****]
These two parties also carried on a continual negotiation with each
other. The terms proposed on all sides were perpetually varying: the
events of the war and the intrigues of the cabinet intermingled with
each other: and the fate of France remained long in this uncertainty.
After many negotiations, Henry offered the queen and the duke of
Burgundy to make peace with them, to espouse the Princess Catharine,
and to accept of all the provinces ceded to Edward III. by the treaty of
Bretigni, with the addition of Normandy, which he was to receive in full
and entire sovereignty.[*]
{1419.} These terms were submitted to: there remained only some
circumstances to adjust, in order to the entire completion of the
treaty; but in this interval the duke of Burgundy secretly finished his
treaty with the dauphin; and these two princes agreed to share the royal
authority during King Charles’s lifetime, and to unite their arms in
order to expel foreign enemies.[****]
* Rymer, vol. ix. p. 717, 749.
** Rymer, vol. ix. p. 626, etc.
*** Rymer, vol. ix. p. 762.
**** Rymer, vol. ix. p. 776. St. Remi, chap. 95.
This alliance which seemed to cut off from Henry all hopes of further
success, proved in the issue the most favorable event that could have
happened for his pretensions. Whether the dauphin and the duke of
Burgundy were ever sincere in their mutual engagements, is uncertain;
but very fatal effects resulted from their momentary and seeming union.
The two princes agreed to an interview, in order to concert the means of
rendering effectual their common attack on the English; but how both or
either of them could with safety venture upon this conference, it seemed
somewhat difficult to contrive. The assassination perpetrated by the
duke of Burgundy, and still more his open avowal of the deed, and
defence of the doctrine, tended to dissolve all the bands of civil
society; and even men of honor, who detested the example, might deem
it just, on a favorable opportunity, to retaliate upon the author. The
duke, therefore, who neither dared to give, nor could pretend to expect,
any trust, agreed to all the contrivances for mutual security which
were proposed by the ministers of the dauphin. The two princes came to
Montereau: the duke lodged in the Castle; the dauphin in the town, which
was divided from the castle by the River Yonne: the bridge between them
was chosen for the place of interview: two high rails were drawn across
the bridge: the gates on each side were guarded, one by the officers of
the dauphin, the other by those of the duke: the princes were to enter
into the intermediate space by the opposite gates, accompanied each by
ten persons; and with all these marks of diffidence, to conciliate their
mutual friendship. But it appeared that no precautions are sufficient
where laws have no place, and where all principles of honor are utterly
abandoned. Tannegui de Chatel, and others of the dauphin’s retainers,
had been zealous partisans of the late duke of Orleans; and they
determined to seize the opportunity of revenging on the assassin the
murder of that prince; they no sooner entered the rails, than they
drew their swords and attacked the duke of Burgundy; his friends were
astonished and thought not of making any defence; and all of them
either shared his fate, or were taken prisoners by the retinue of the
dauphin.[*]
* St. Remi, chap. 97. Monstrelet, chap. 211.
The extreme youth of this prince made it doubtful whether he had
been admitted into the secret of the conspiracy; but as the deed
was committed under his eye, by his most intimate friends, who still
retained their connections with him, the blame of the action, which
was certainly more imprudent than criminal, fell entirely upon him.
The whole state of affairs was every where changed by this unexpected
incident. The city of Paris, passionately devoted to the family of
Burgundy, broke out into the highest fury against the dauphin. The court
of King Charles entered from interest into the same views; and as all
the ministers of that monarch had owed their preferment to the
late duke, and foresaw their downfall if the dauphin should recover
possession of his father’s person, they were concerned to prevent by
any means the success of his enterprise. The queen, persevering in her
unnatural animosity against her son, increased the general flame, and
inspired into the king, as far as he was susceptible of any sentiment
the same prejudices by which she herself had long been actuated. But
above all, Philip, count of Charolois, now duke of Burgundy, thought
himself bound by every tie of honor and of duty to revenge the murder of
his father, and to prosecute the assassin to the utmost extremity. And
in this general transport of rage, every consideration of national and
family interest was buried in oblivion by all parties: the subjection
to a foreign enemy, the expulsion of the lawful heir, the slavery of the
kingdom, appeared but small evils, if they led to the gratification of
the present passion.
The king of England had, before the death of the duke of Burgundy,
profited extremely by the distractions of France and was daily making a
considerable progress in Normandy. He had taken Rouen after an obstinate
siege:[*] he had made himself master of Pontoise and Gisors: he even
threatened Paris, and by the terror of his arms had obliged the court
to remove to Troye: and in the midst of his successes, he was agreeably
surprised to find his enemies, instead of combining against him for
their mutual defence, disposed to rush into his arms, and to make
him the instrument of their vengeance upon each other. A league was
immediately concluded at Arras between him and the duke of Burgundy.
This prince, without stipulating any thing for himself, except the
prosecution of his father’s murder, and the marriage of the duke of
Bedford with his sister, was willing to sacrifice the kingdom to Henry’s
ambition; and he agreed to every demand made by that monarch.
{1420.} In order to finish this astonishing treaty, which was to
transfer the crown of France to a stranger, Henry went to Troye,
accompanied by his brothers, the dukes of Clarence and Glocester; and
was there met by the duke of Burgundy. The imbecility into which Charles
had fallen, made him incapable of seeing any thing but through the
eyes of those who attended him; as they, on their part, saw every
thing through the medium of their passions. The treaty, being already
concerted among the parties, was immediately drawn, and signed,
and ratified: Henry’s will seemed to be a law throughout the whole
negotiation: nothing was attended to but his advantages.
* T. Livii, p. 69. Monstrelet, chap. 201.
The principal articles of the treaty were, that Henry should espouse the
Princess Catharine: that King Charles, during his lifetime, should enjoy
the title and dignity of king of France: that Henry should be declared
and acknowledged heir of the monarchy, and be intrusted with the present
administration of the government: that that kingdom should pass to his
heirs general: that France and England should forever be united
under one king; but should still retain their several usages, customs,
and privileges: that all the princes, peers, vassals, and communities
of France should swear, that they would both adhere to the future
succession of Henry, and pay him present obedience as regent: that this
prince should unite his arms to those of King Charles and the duke of
Burgundy, in order to subdue the adherents of Charles, the pretended
dauphin: and that these three princes should make no peace or truce with
him but by common consent and agreement.[*]
* Rymer, vol. ix. p. 895. St. Remi, chap 101. Monstrelet,
chap. 223.
Such was the tenor of this famous treaty; a treaty which, as nothing but
the most violent animosity could dictate it, so nothing but the power
of the sword could carry into execution. It is hard to say whether its
consequences, had it taken effect, would have proved more pernicious
to England or to France. It must have reduced the former kingdom to the
rank of a province: it would have entirely disjointed the succession of
the latter, and have brought on the destruction of every descendant of
the royal family; as the houses of Orleans, Anjou, Alençon, Brittany,
Bourbon, and of Burgundy itself, whose titles were preferable to that
of the English princes, would on that account have been exposed to
perpetual jealousy and persecution from the sovereign. There was even a
palpable deficiency in Henry’s claim, which no art could palliate. For,
besides the insuperable objections to which Edward III.’s pretensions
were exposed, he was not heir to that monarch: if female succession were
admitted, the right had devolved on the house of Mortimer: allowing that
Richard II. was a tyrant, and that Henry IV.’s merits in deposing him
were so great towards the English, as to justify that nation in placing
him on the throne, Richard had nowise offended France, and his rival
had merited nothing of that kingdom: it could not possibly be pretended,
that the crown of France was become an appendage to that of England;
and that a prince, who by any means got possession of the latter, was,
without further question, entitled to the former. So that, on the whole,
it must be allowed that Henry’s claim to France was, if possible, still
more unintelligible than the title by which his father had mounted the
throne of England.
But though all these considerations were overlooked, amidst the hurry of
passion by which the courts of France and Burgundy were actuated, they
would necessarily revive during times of more tranquillity; and it
behoved Henry to push his present advantages, and allow men no leisure
for reason or reflection. In a few days after, he espoused the Princess
Catharine: he carried his father-in-law to Paris, and put himself in
possession of that capital: he obtained from the parliament and the
three estates a ratification of the treaty of Troye: he supported the
duke of Burgundy in procuring a sentence against the murderers of his
father: and he immediately turned his arms with success against the
adherents of the dauphin, who, as soon as he heard of the treaty of
Troye, took on him the style and authority of regent, and appealed to
God and his sword for the maintenance of his title.
The first place that Henry subdued was Sens, which opened its gates
after a slight resistance. With the same facility he made himself master
of Montereau. The defence of Melun was more obstinate: Barbasan, the
governor, held out for the space of four months against the besiegers;
and it was famine alone which obliged him to capitulate. Henry
stipulated to spare the lives of all the garrison, except such as were
accomplices in the murder of the duke of Burgundy; and as Barbasan
himself was suspected to be of the number, his punishment was demanded
by Philip: but the king had the generosity to intercede for him, and to
prevent his execution.[*]
{1421.} The necessity of providing supplies both of men and money,
obliged Henry to go over to England; and he left the duke of Exeter,
his uncle, governor of Paris during his absence. The authority which
naturally attends success, procured from the English parliament a
subsidy of a fifteenth; but, if we may judge by the scantiness of the
supply, the nation was nowise sanguine on their king’s victories; and
in proportion as the prospect of their union with France became nearer,
they began to open their eyes, and to see the dangerous consequences
with which that event must necessarily be attended. It was fortunate for
Henry that he had other resources, besides pecuniary supplies from his
native subjects. The provinces which he had already conquered maintained
his troops; and the hopes of further advantages allured to his standard
all men of ambitious spirits in England, who desired to signalize
themselves by arms. He levied a new army of twenty-four thousand archers
and four thousand horsemen,[**] and marched them to Dover, the place of
rendezvous.
* Holingshed, p. 577.
** Monstrelet, chap. 242.
Every thing had remained in tranquillity at Paris under the duke of
Exeter but there had happened, in another quarter of the kingdom, a
misfortune which hastened the king’s embarkation.
The detention of the young king of Scots in England had hitherto proved
advantageous to Henry; and by keeping the regent in awe, had preserved,
during the whole course of the French war, the northern frontier in
tranquillity. But when intelligence arrived in Scotland of the progress
made by Henry, and the near prospect of his succession to the crown of
France, the nation was alarmed, and foresaw their own inevitable ruin,
if the subjection of their ally left them to combat alone a victorious
enemy, who was already so much superior in power and riches. The regent
entered into the same views; and though he declined an open rupture with
England, he permitted a body of seven thousand Scots, under the command
of the earl of Buchan, his second son, to be transported into France for
the service of the dauphin. To render this aid ineffectual, Henry
had, in his former expedition, carried over the king of Scots, whom he
obliged to send orders to his countrymen to leave the French service;
but the Scottish general replied, that he would obey no commands which
came from a king in captivity, and that a prince, while in the hands of
his enemy, was nowise entitled to authority. These troops, therefore,
continued still to act under the earl of Buchan: and were employed by
the dauphin to oppose the progress of the duke of Clarence in Anjou.
The two armies encountered at Baugé: the English were defeated: the duke
himself was slain by Sir Allan Swinton, a Scotch knight, who commanded
a company of men at arms: and the earls of Somerset,[*] Dorset, and
Huntingdon were taken prisoners.[**] This was the first action that
turned the tide of success against the English; and the dauphin, that
he might both attach the Scotch to his service, and reward the valor and
conduct of the earl of Buchan, honored that nobleman with the office of
constable.
* His name was John, and he was afterwards created duke of
Somerset. He was grandson of John of Gaunt, duke of
Lancaster. The earl of Dorset was brother to Somerset, and
succeeded him in that title.
** St. Remi, chap. 110. Monstrelet, chap. 239. Hall, fol.
76.
But the arrival of the king of England with so considerable an army,
was more than sufficient to repair this loss. Henry was received at
Paris with great expressions of joy, so obstinate were the prejudices of
the people; and he immediately conducted his army to Chartres, which had
long been besieged by the dauphin. That prince raised the siege on the
approach of the English; and being resolved to decline a battle, he
retired with his army.[*] Henry made himself master of Dreux without a
blow: he laid siege to Meaux, at the Solicitation of the Parisians,
who were much incommoded by the garrison of that place. This enterprise
employed the English arms during the space of eight months: the bastard
of Vaurus, governor of Meaux, distinguished himself by an obstinate
defence; but was at last obliged to surrender at discretion. The cruelty
of this officer was equal to his bravery: he was accustomed to hang,
without distinction, all the English and Burgundians who fell into his
hands: and Henry, in revenge of his barbarity, ordered him immediately
to be hanged on the same tree which he had made the instrument of his
inhuman executions.[**]
* St. Remi, chap. 3.
** Rymer, vol. x. p. 212 T. Livii, p. 92, 93. St. Remi, chap
116 Monstrelet, chap. 260.
This success was followed by the surrender of many other places in
the neighborhood of Paris, which held for the dauphin: that prince
was chased beyond the Loire, and he almost totally abandoned all the
northern provinces: he was even pursued into the south by the united
arms of the English and Burgundians, and threatened with total
destruction. Notwithstanding the bravery and fidelity of his captains,
he saw himself unequal to his enemies in the field; and found it
necessary to temporize, and to avoid all hazardous actions with a rival
who had gained so much the ascendant over him. And to crown all the
other prosperities of Henry, his queen was delivered of a son, who
was called by his father’s name, and whose birth was celebrated by
rejoicings no less pompous, and no less sincere, at Paris than at
London. The infant prince seemed to be universally regarded as the
future heir of both monarchies.
{1422.} But the glory of Henry, when it had nearly reached the summit,
was stopped short by the hand of nature; and all his mighty projects
vanished into smoke. He was seized with a fistula, a malady which the
surgeons at that time had not skill enough to cure; and he was at last
sensible that his distemper was mortal, and that his end was approaching
He sent for his brother the duke of Bedford, the earl of Warwick, and
a few noblemen more, whom he had honored with his friendship; and he
delivered to them, in great tranquillity, his last will with regard to
the government of his kingdom and family. He entreated them to continue
towards his infant son the same fidelity and attachment which they had
always professed to himself during his lifetime, and which had been
cemented by so many mutual good offices. He expressed his indifference
on the approach of death; and though he regretted that he must leave
unfinished a work so happily begun, he declared himself confident that
the final acquisition of France would be the effect of their prudence
and valor. He left the regency of that kingdom to his elder brother, the
duke of Bedford; that of England to his younger, the duke of Glocester;
and the care of his son’s person to the earl of Warwick. He recommended
to all of them a great attention to maintain the friendship of the
duke of Burgundy; and advised them never to give liberty to the French
princes taken at Azincour, till his son were of age, and could himself
hold the reins of government. And he conjured them, if the success of
their arms should not enable them to place young Henry on the throne
of France, never at least to make peace with that kingdom, unless the
enemy, by the cession of Normandy, and its annexation to the crown
of England, made compensation for all the hazard and expense of his
enterprise.[*]
He next applied himself to his devotions, and ordered his chaplain
to recite the seven penitential psalms. When that passage of the
fifty-first psalm was read, “build thou the walls of Jerusalem,” he
interrupted the chaplain, and declared his serious intention, after
he should have fully subdued France, to conduct a crusade against the
infidels, and recover possession of the Holy Land.[**] So ingenious are
men in deceiving themselves, that Henry forgot, in those moments, all
the blood spilt by his ambition; and received comfort from this late and
feeble resolve, which, as the mode of these enterprises was now passed,
he certainly would never have carried into execution. He expired in the
thirty-fourth year of his age and the tenth of his reign.
* Monstrelet, chap. 265. Hall, fol. 80.
** St. Remi, chap. 118, Monstrelet, el ap. 265.
This prince possessed many eminent virtues; and if we give indulgence
to ambition in a monarch, or rank it, as the vulgar are inclined to do,
among his virtues, they were unstained by any considerable blemish. His
abilities appeared equally in the cabinet and in the field: the boldness
of his enterprises was no less remarkable than his personal valor
in conducting them. He had the talent of attaching his friends by
affability, and of gaining his enemies by address and clemency. The
English, dazzled by the lustre of his character, still more than by
that of his victories, were reconciled to the defects in his title: the
French almost forgot that he was an enemy: and his care in maintaining
justice in his civil administration, and preserving discipline in his
armies, made some amends to both nations for the calamities inseparable
from those wars in which his short reign was almost entirely occupied,
That he could forgive the earl of Marche, who had a better title to the
crown than himself, is a sure indication of his magnanimity; and that
the earl relied so entirely on his friendship, is no less a proof of his
established character for candor and sincerity. There remain in history
few instances of such mutual trust; and still fewer where neither party
found reason to repent it.
The exterior figure of this great prince, as well as his deportment,
was engaging. His stature was somewhat above the middle size; his
countenance beautiful; his limbs genteel and slender, but full of vigor;
and he excelled in all warlike and manly exercises.[*] He left by his
queen, Catharine of France, only one son, not full nine months old;
whose misfortunes, in the course of his life, surpassed all the glories
and successes of his father.
* T. Livii, p. 4.
In less than two months after Henry’s death, Charles VI. of France, his
father-in-law, terminated his unhappy life. He had for several years
possessed only the appearance of royal authority: yet was this mere
appearance of considerable advantage to the English; and divided the
duty and affections of the French between them and the dauphin. This
prince was proclaimed and crowned king of France at Poictiers, by the
name of Charles VII. Rheims, the place where this ceremony is usually
performed, was at that time in the hands of his enemies.
Catharine of France, Henry’s widow, married, soon after his death, a
Welsh gentleman, Sir Owen Tudor, said to be descended from the ancient
princes of that country: she bore him two sons, Edmund and Jasper,
of whom the eldest was created earl of Richmond; the second earl of
Pembroke The family of Tudor, first raised to distinction by this
alliance, mounted afterwards the throne of England.
The long schism, which had divided the Latin church for near forty
years, was finally terminated in this reign by the council of Constance;
which deposed the pope, John XXIII., for his crimes, and elected Martin
V. in his place, who was acknowledged by almost all the kingdoms of
Europe. This great and unusual act of authority in the council, gave the
Roman pontiffs ever after a mortal antipathy to those assemblies. The
same jealousy which had long prevailed in most European countries,
between the civil aristocracy and monarchy, now also took place between
these powers in the ecclesiastical body. But the great separation of the
bishops in the several states, and the difficulty of assembling them,
gave the pope a mighty advantage, and made it more easy for him to
centre all the powers of the hierarchy in his own person. The cruelty
and treachery which attended the punishment of John Huss and Jerome
of Prague, the unhappy disciples of Wickliffe, who, in violation of
a safe-conduct were burned alive for their errors by the council of
Constance prove this melancholy truth, that toleration is none of the
virtues of priests in any form of ecclesiastical government But as the
English nation had little or no concern in these great transactions, we
are here the more concise in relating them.
The first commission of array which we meet with, was issued in this
reign.[*] The military part of the feudal system, which was the most
essential circumstance of it, was entirely dissolved, and could no
longer serve for the defence of the kingdom. Henry, therefore, when he
went to France, in 1415, empowered certain commissioners to take in each
county a review of all the freemen able to bear arms, to divide them
into companies, and to keep them in readiness for resisting an enemy.
This was the era when the feudal militia in England gave place to one
which was perhaps still less orderly and regular.
* Rymer, vol, ix. p. 254, 255.
We have an authentic and exact account of the ordinary revenue of the
crown during this reign; and it amounts only to fifty-five thousand
seven hundred and fourteen pounds ten shillings and tenpence a year. [*]
This is nearly the same with the revenue of Henry III.; and the kings
of England had neither become much richer nor poorer in the course of so
many years. The ordinary expense of the government amounted to forty-two
thousand five hundred and seven pounds sixteen shillings and tenpence;
so that the king had a surplus only of thirteen thousand two hundred and
six pounds fourteen shillings for the support of his household; for his
wardrobe; for the expense of embassies; and other articles. This sum was
nowise sufficient: he was therefore obliged to have frequent recourse
to parliamentary supplies, and was thus, even in time of peace, not
altogether independent of his people. But wars were attended with a
great expense, which neither the prince’s ordinary revenue, nor the
extraordinary supplies, were able to bear; and the sovereign was always
reduced to many miserable shifts, in order to make any tolerable figure
in them. He commonly borrowed money from all quarters; he pawned his
jewels, and sometimes the crown itself;[**] he ran in arrears to his
army; and he was often obliged, notwithstanding all these expedients, to
stop in the midst of his career of victory, and to grant truces to the
enemy. The high pay which was given to soldiers agreed very ill with
this low income. All the extraordinary supplies, granted by parliament
to Henry during the course of his reign, were only seven tenths and
fifteenths, about two hundred and three thousand pounds.[***] It is
easy to compute how soon this money must be exhausted by armies of
twenty-four thousand archers and six thousand horse; when each archer
had sixpence a day,[****] and each horseman two shillings. The most
splendid successes proved commonly fruitless when supported by so poor a
revenue; and the debts and difficulties which the king thereby incurred,
made him pay dear for his victories. The civil administration, likewise,
even in time of peace, could never be very regular, where the government
was so ill enabled to support itself.
* Rymer, vol. x. p. 113.
** Rymer, vol. x. p. 190.
*** Parliamentary History, vol. ii. p. 168.
**** It appears from many passages of Rymer, particularly
vol. ix p. 258, that the king paid twenty marks a year for
an archer, which is a good deal above sixpence a day. The
price had risen, as it is natural, by raising the
denomination of money.
Henry, till within a year of his death, owed debts which he had
contracted when prince of Wales.[*] It was in vain that the parliament
pretended to restrain him from arbitrary practices, when he was
reduced to such necessities. Though the right of levying purveyance
for instance, had been expressly guarded against by the Great Charter
itself, and was frequently complained of by the commons, it was found
absolutely impracticable to abolish it; and the parliament at length,
submitting to it as a legal prerogative, contented themselves with
enacting laws to limit and confine it. The duke of Glocester, in the
reign of Richard II., possessed a revenue of sixty thousand crowns,
(about thirty thousand pounds a year of our present money,) as we learn
from Froissard,[**] and was consequently richer than the king himself,
if all circumstances be duly considered.
It is remarkable, that the city of Calais alone was an annual expense
to the crown of nineteen thousand one hundred and nineteen pounds;[***]
that is, above a third of the common charge of the government in time of
peace. This fortress was of no use to the defence of England, and only
gave that kingdom an inlet to annoy France. Ireland cost two thousand
pounds a year, over and above its own revenue; which was certainly very
low. Every thing conspires to give us a very mean idea of the state of
Europe in those ages.
From the most early times till the reign of Edward III., the
denomination of money had never been altered; a pound sterling was still
a pound troy; that is, about three pounds of our present money. That
conqueror was the first that innovated in this important article. In
the twentieth of his reign, he coined twenty-two shillings from a pound
troy; in his twenty-seventh year, he coined twenty-five shillings.
But Henry V., who was also a conqueror, raised still farther the
denomination, and counted thirty shillings from a pound troy:[****]
his revenue therefore must have been about one hundred and ten thousand
pounds of our present money; and by the cheapness of provisions, was
equivalent to above three hundred and thirty thousand pounds.
* Rymer, vol. x. p. 114.
** Liv. iv. chap. 86.
*** Rymer, vol. x. p. 113.
**** Fleetwood’s Chronicon Preciosum, p. 52
None of the princes of the house of Lancaster ventured to impose taxes
without consent of parliament: their doubtful or bad title became so far
of advantage to the constitution. The rule was then fixed, and could not
safely be broken afterwards, even by more absolute princes.