moment, proposed, in his impetuous promptness, to rush across the Channel
and fall on Armagnac in person; but Sigismund, his royal guest, suggested
to him that it was not a cause of sufficient importance to demand his
own presence. He sent the Duke of Bedford, his brother, with a fleet to
the relief of Harfleur. The duke mustered at Rye such ships as he could
procure in haste, and on the 14th of August, 1416, reached the mouth of
the Seine. He found the blockade of a formidable character. The galleys
of the Genoese were so tall that the loftiest of the duke's ships could
not reach to their upper decks by more than a spear's length. Besides
these, there were also Spanish ships of great size, and all were posted
with great judgment. Nothing daunted, the duke resolved on attacking
them in the morning. At sunset he summoned on board of his ship all the
captains of his fleet to concert the plan of the battle, and during the
night he kept his squadron together by displaying a light at his masthead.
The next morning, the 15th of August, 1416, Bedford was agreeably
surprised to see the French quit their secure moorings, and, in their
rash confidence, leave behind their powerful allies of Genoa and Spain,
and come out into the open sea to attack him. He very soon captured two
of their ships, and, after a long and desperate conflict, most of the
rest were taken or destroyed; a few escaping up the river. Bedford lost
no time in bearing down on the Genoese galleys, which, notwithstanding
their height, his sailors clambered up like squirrels, and boarded in
gallant style. The garrison within the town now joined their countrymen
in an attack on the land forces, which speedily raised the siege and
fled. The duke remained to see the town put into a complete state of
defence; and during this time, which was three weeks, the vast number
of bodies which had been plunged into the Seine during the fight, rose
and covered the whole of the waters all round the ships, much to the
horror of the sailors. The duke led his men away as soon as possible, and
returned to England, having most successfully completed his mission.
In the following month of September, Henry proceeded to
Calais--accompanied by his Imperial guest Sigismund, who had concluded
an alliance with him, and been enrolled a Knight of the Garter, and by
the Duke of Bavaria--to meet John Sanspeur, Duke of Burgundy. Burgundy,
during the late campaign, had professed to remain neutral. Though
summoned by Charles to assist in expelling the English, he neither went
himself nor permitted his vassals to do so. His county of Flanders not
only maintained an avowed neutrality with England, but carried on their
usual lucrative trade with it without any regard to French interests.
Yet Burgundy had been cautious not to enter into direct engagements with
Henry, or to lend any assistance to his invading army. Nay, after the
battle of Agincourt, where his brothers the Duke of Brabant and the Count
of Nevers fell, he had expressed great resentment, and even defied Henry
to mortal combat. But now circumstances had occurred in France which
stung him to the quick, and made him ready to forget even the destruction
of his brothers.
In spite of the national disaster of Agincourt, civil war continued to
exist between the French factions. Burgundy was expelled and worsted by
Armagnac, and he sought the aid of England.
There had been through the year continual correspondence between the
courts of Burgundy and England, which purported to concern treaties of
trade; and now the congress opened on the 3rd of October, 1416, for the
ostensible purpose of healing the schism in the Church. The Armagnacs
were struck with consternation at this conference. They would not give
credit to the object being either trade or the peace of the Church; but
they believed, and asserted, that Burgundy had sold himself to Henry, had
formally acknowledged the latter's title to the throne of France, and
done homage to him for his provinces of Burgundy and Alost, in order to
avenge himself of his Armagnac opponents. That such a treaty was agitated
at the congress is certain, for the protocol is preserved in Rymer, and
by it Burgundy was not only to acknowledge Henry's claim, but to assist
him in establishing it. There is, however, no proof that he actually
signed it.
[Illustration: RECEPTION OF THE EMPEROR SIGISMUND. (_See p._ 559.)]
Whatever was determined upon remains unknown, any further than it can be
surmised from what followed. Henry returned to England to make immediate
and extensive preparations for the invasion of France, on the conclusion
of the existing armistice. Sigismund went on to Constance in prosecution
of his plans for the Church, and Burgundy retired to Valenciennes, as if
also about to co-operate with Henry by the muster of his Flemish forces.
But here a new and unexpected turn of affairs appears to have taken
place. John, the new Dauphin, had thrown off the Armagnac party, and made
overtures to Burgundy. The duke caught at the opportunity of having the
Dauphin in his hands and, by such an alliance, regaining his ascendency
in the state without incurring the odium of supporting a foreign invader
against the rightful sovereign.
The two princes swore eternal friendship to each other. The Dauphin
pledged himself to assist the duke in driving from power the Armagnacs,
and the duke engaged to aid the Dauphin in expelling the English from
France. The Armagnacs, confounded at this new coalition, issued a
summons in the king's name to the Dauphin to return to Paris, with which
the prince offered to comply on condition that he brought the Duke of
Burgundy and his followers with him. Finding that they could not induce
the prince to quit his new ally, there is every reason to believe that
they despatched him with poison, for on the 14th of April, 1417, he was
taken suddenly ill, and died in agonies with all the symptoms of death
by poison. No one doubted that it was the work of the Armagnacs, and it
was generally believed that the abandoned Queen Isabella was an active
accomplice in the destruction of both this and her preceding son, whom
she hated for their opposition and exposure of her flagitious life.
But if Isabella was guilty of these revolting crimes, she was speedily
punished. Her youngest son, Charles, who now became Dauphin, though but
sixteen, was extremely artful, and by no means disposed to yield to the
domination of his mother, whom he as heartily despised as his elder
brothers had done. Isabella herself was arrested and sent into close
confinement at Tours. The Count of Armagnac is said to have the more
willingly executed this severity on Isabella because she had violently
complained of his seizure of her treasures both at Paris and Mélun, a
measure to which the public necessities had driven him.
Enraged to frenzy by the loss of her favourite, of her power, and of
her money, Isabella now meditated deep revenge. She had hated the Duke
of Burgundy with a mortal hatred ever since he assassinated her beloved
Duke of Orleans; and he had now added to his offences by implicating her
in a manner in the murder of her own son, the Dauphin John. Yet the very
next thing which the public heard was that Isabella had escaped from
her prison at Tours, and thrown herself into the arms of the Duke of
Burgundy, her old and most detested enemy. Such are the terrible extremes
of a bad woman's vengeance. She now burned, at any cost, to revenge
herself on Armagnac, and not less so on her own son Charles, whose
destruction she sought as earnestly as she had done that of his brothers.
This most unnatural woman had bribed her keepers to allow her to attend
early mass at the church of Marmontier, in the suburbs of Tours. They
accompanied her, but suddenly found themselves surprised by the Duke of
Burgundy, who had secreted himself for the purpose in a neighbouring
forest, with 800 men-at-arms. The moment Isabella was in the guardianship
of this prince, she proclaimed herself regent of the kingdom during the
continuance of the king's malady, and the Duke of Burgundy her lieutenant.
Such was the position of affairs in France at the moment that Henry V.
of England landed at Honfleur, on the coast of Normandy, on the 14th of
August, 1417, with 16,000 men-at-arms, an equal number of archers, and
a long train of artillery, and other military engines, attended by an
efficient body of sappers, miners, carpenters, and other artificers,
and a fleet of 1,500 ships. Two years had elapsed since the fatal battle
of Agincourt; yet the infatuated princes of France, though they knew
that Henry never had his eyes off their country, but was constantly
employed in planning its subjugation, had taken no measures whatever
for its defence. On the contrary, they had spent the time in mutual
destruction, and in doing all in their power to exhaust its strength, and
demoralise the people. They appeared given up by an indignant Providence
to the destroying force of their own base passions, a nation of suicidal
monsters rather than of men; and while Henry of England was landing on
their coasts with his invading army, the Duke of Burgundy was in full
march on Paris, accompanied by the queen, breathing vengeance on the
Armagnacs.
Burgundy, after the sudden death of the Dauphin, had besieged that city
with an army of 60,000 cavalry. He promised to restore peace and abolish
all oppressive taxes. The people in the country were ready to look
upon him as a deliverer; and many cities, including Amiens, Abbeville,
Dourlens, Montreuil, and other towns in Picardy opened their gates to
him. Paris, in the hands of the Armagnacs, made a steadfast resistance.
He, however, became master of Châlons, Troyes, Auxerre, and on being
joined by Isabella, most of the towns, except those taken by the King
of England, declared for Burgundy and the queen. Isabella had a great
seal engraved, and appointed her officers of state. She declared that
the Armagnacs held the king and Dauphin prisoners in Paris, and were,
therefore, traitors. She made Burgundy governor-general of the whole
kingdom, appointed the Duke of Lorraine constable, and the Prince of
Orange governor of Languedoc. There was a great flocking of princes and
nobility to the queen's court, and thus there were established two royal
parties and two courts, the one with the king and Dauphin in Paris, the
other with the queen at Chartres. The people, elated by the promises
of Burgundy, rose in many places and killed the tax-gatherers, crying,
"Long live Burgundy, and no taxes!" They regarded every rich man as an
Armagnac, for that was a good plea on which to plunder him; and thus
passed the winter of 1417.
Meantime, Henry of England advanced into the heart of Normandy, having,
on setting out, issued to his army orders in consonance with those
enlightened principles of humanity and policy which he had adopted in
such noble contrast to the practice of the Edwards. He forbade, on pain
of the severest punishment, all breaches of discipline, all injury to
the lives and property of the peaceable inhabitants, and especially all
insult to clergymen, or outrage to the wives, widows, and maidens of the
country. Yet the Normans, neglected by their own rulers, who were engaged
like wolves in tearing each others' throats instead of defending their
common soil, still retained their allegiance, and regarding Henry, not as
the descendant of their ancient dukes, but as a foreign invader, rejected
him with great bravery. Probably the atrocities committed on them by
the Edwards had thoroughly alienated their hearts from the English. But
they were unable to contend with the superior forces and martial skill
of Henry; Caen resisted, but was taken by assault; Bayeux submitted
voluntarily; and l'Aigle, Lisieux, Alençon, and Falaise, after some stout
resistance. Henry then went into comfortable winter quarters, intending
to proceed, on the return of spring, with his proposed task of reducing
every fortress in Normandy.
While Henry was thus successfully prosecuting his campaign in Normandy,
there had occurred a slight disturbance at home. The Scots, thinking
that, the king being absent with the flower of the army, the kingdom
must be left greatly unprotected, made a descent upon England. The Duke
of Albany and Earl Douglas crossed the borders each with an army, and
while Albany laid siege to the castle of Berwick, Douglas invested that
of Roxburgh. But the Dukes of Exeter and Bedford, the regent, made a
rapid march northward with such forces that the Scottish leaders suddenly
abandoned their enterprise, and disbanded their armies.
Simultaneously with this inroad once more appeared Sir John Oldcastle,
Lord Cobham, on the scene. He had been concealed in Wales, but the
absence of the king afforded him also the expectation of taking vengeance
on his enemies. It had been surmised that the Scots and Sir John had
mutually concerted this attack. Be this, however, as it may, there can
be no doubt that both Sir John and the Lollards in general were greatly
embittered by the cruelties practised on them by the bishops. These
dignitaries had set them the example of bloodshed, and had certainly
taken the initiative in the attempt to put down difference of theological
opinion by destroying their opponents, and during the three years that
Lord Cobham had eluded them, they had pursued and burnt the Lollards with
increasing severity. Such lessons are readily taught, and nothing could
be more natural than that the injured party should seek retaliation in
kind. Sir John, too, was probably deeply incensed by his old companion,
the king, giving him over so forcibly to the tender mercies of the
clergy; and, though they could not in this case assert that he sought his
life, he probably felt little compunction in disturbing his Government in
the endeavour to come at the official persecutors.
The hasty retreat of the Scots defeated the intentions of the Lollards,
and Lord Cobham, hastening from his rendezvous near St. Albans,
endeavoured to regain the Welsh mountains, but he was intercepted near
Broniart, in Montgomeryshire, by the retainers of Sir Edward Charlton,
Earl of Powis. When brought before the House of Peers, his former
indictment was read, and he was asked by the Duke of Bedford what he had
to say in his defence. He had begun a bold and able speech in reply, but
being stopped and desired to give a direct answer, he refused to plead,
declaring that there was no authority in that court so long as Richard
II. was alive in Scotland; for, like many others, he was of opinion
that the Scottish Richard was genuine. He was at once condemned, and
was hanged as a traitor in St. Giles's Fields, and burnt as a heretic,
December, 1417.
In the spring of 1418 Henry resumed his operations in Normandy with
vigour. He had received a reinforcement of 15,000 men, so that he could
divide his troops, and conduct several operations at the same time. The
Dukes of Gloucester and Clarence, the king's brothers, took the command
of different bodies of men, and proceeded to reduce the strongest towns
in Lower Normandy. Gloucester compelled Cherbourg to surrender, after
a long and obstinate defence, on the 29th of September; but before
this most of the towns of Lower Normandy had opened their gates. Henry
advanced along the Seine and made himself master of the whole country
from Louviers to the sea; finding, in this part of his campaign, infinite
advantage from his conquest of Harfleur. Pont de l'Arche completed the
possession of all Lower Normandy, with the exception of Cherbourg, which
Gloucester was blockading. By July, making certain of the ultimate fall
of this city, Henry regarded Lower Normandy as his own. Before proceeding
to the siege of Rouen, he organised a Government for Lower Normandy,
appointed a chancellor and treasurer, and left that part of France,
though under foreign rule, far quieter and more habitable than any other
district of the realm.
The siege of Rouen was the grand operation which was not only to lay all
Normandy at the feet of the conqueror, but open the highway to Paris.
The city was strongly fortified. On all sides it was enclosed by massive
ramparts, towers, and batteries. Fifteen thousand trained men, and a
garrison of 4,000 men-at-arms were collected within it. Many of these
were gentlemen of Lower Normandy, who, having vainly endeavoured to
check the progress of the enemy in their own neighbourhood, had retired
hither to assist in making one last determined stand against the power
which had driven them from hearth and home. The governor had made every
preparation for the most obstinate resistance. Not only had he laid waste
the environs and annihilated the suburbs, but he had commanded every man
and every family to quit the city who had not provisions for ten months,
and the magistrates had enforced the order.
[Illustration: VIEW OF ROUEN, FROM ST. CATHERINE'S HILL.
[_Photo: Neurdein Frères, Paris._]]
On the 30th of July Henry appeared before the town. He had 200 sail of
small vessels on the Seine, so that he could convey his troops to any
portion of the environs. He found the brave and patriotic Bouteillier
ready to encounter him. Instead of lying concealed behind his strong
walls, this leader met him in the open field, and attacked him with
the utmost impetuosity. The battle was desperate and bloody, and
though ultimately compelled, by the numbers and the tried valour of the
English, to retire, he never ceased to renew the attack, and interrupt
the commencement of Henry's works for the investment of the place. He
continually made fierce sorties, destroyed his embankments, beat up the
quarters of the soldiers now here, now there, and greatly obstructed the
operations of the besiegers.
[Illustration: CARDINAL ORSINI'S VISIT TO HENRY. (_See p._ 566.)]
At length Henry succeeded in encamping his army in six divisions before
the six gates of the city. He protected these by lofty embankments from
the shot from the city, and connected them with each other by deep
trenches, so that the men could pass from one to the other without danger
from the arrows of the enemy. Then, finally, the whole town on the land
sides was enclosed in strong military lines, which he strengthened with
thick hedges of thorns and on the most commanding situations without the
camp he placed towers of wood, batteries of cannon, and engines for the
projection of arrows and stones.
These stringent measures soon began to tell. Before two instead of
ten months had expired, famine had shown its hideous face. Though
the governor had reduced the population greatly before the siege had
commenced, he now expelled from the city 12,000 more useless mouths, as
they were termed in the iron language of war. Henry forbade them to be
admitted within the lines, for the tender mercies of sieges are cruel
under the most humane of commanders. To permit at will the expulsion of
the people was to prolong the siege, and, therefore, as at Calais, under
Edward I., notwithstanding some of these wretched outcasts were fed by
the humanity of the troops, the greater number perished through want of
food and shelter.
But within the city famine stalked on, and the misery was terrible.
During the third month the besieged killed and subsisted on their horses.
After that, for two months, they killed the dogs and cats; and the
necessity growing more and more desperate, they descended to rats, mice,
and any species of vermin they could clutch in their famine-sharpened
fingers. It is said that, in the whole siege--from famine, from the
wretched, unwholesome food eaten, by the sword, and other means--no less
than 50,000 of the inhabitants perished.
All this time the unhappy people cried vehemently to the Duke of
Burgundy, whom the citizens had admitted to Paris and who had established
his power there by a series of fearful massacres. Their messengers
returned with flattering but fallacious promises, and no relief was ever
sent. On one occasion the heartless minister even fixed the precise day
on which he would arrive in force and compel the English to raise the
siege. At this news a wild joy ran like lightning through the famishing
city. The bells were rung with mad exultation; people ran to and fro
spreading the glad tidings and uttering mutual congratulations. The
troops were ordered to be every man in readiness to rush forth at the
right moment, and second the assault of their friends without. The day
came and went; no deliverer appeared, and a deadly despair sank down on
the devoted city.
It was in the midst of these horrors that the Cardinal Orsini, who had
in vain exerted himself to reconcile the insensate factions, now turned
to Henry, and entreated him to moderate his pretensions, and incline
to peace. But Henry was too sagacious a politician to renounce the
advantages which the folly and crimes of his enemies opened up to him. He
was willing to make overtures of peace, and he did so to both parties,
but it was still on his fixed terms of the sovereignty of France. He
repeated his clear persuasion that his work was the work of an avenging
Providence. "Do you not perceive," he said to Orsini, "that it is God
who has led me hither by the hand? France has no sovereign. There is
nothing here but confusion; there is no law, no order. No one thinks of
resisting me. Can I, therefore, have a more convincing proof that the
Being who disposes of empires, has determined to put the crown of France
upon my head?"
Winter was now setting in, and the famished citizens saw its approach
with horror. They had long been reduced to the severest condition of
starvation, and still the determined Bouteillier held out. They had
consumed every green and every living thing but themselves and their
children. Gaunt Famine, the sternest of all conquerors, now subdued the
iron hardihood of the governor, and he offered on the 3rd of January to
capitulate; but Henry insisted on unconditional surrender. Bouteillier,
indignant and in despair, assembled the garrison, and proposed to them
to set fire to the city, to throw down a portion of the wall, which was
already undermined by the English, and burst headlong into the camp of
the enemy, where, if they could not cut their way through, they should at
least perish as became soldiers. This stoical design, as terribly sublime
as any project of antiquity, reaching the ears of Henry, he lowered his
demands. It was impossible not to be struck with such heroism in men
wasted by months of utter want, and he had no wish to see Rouen a heap
of smoking ruins. He offered the soldiers their lives and liberties on
condition that they did not serve against him for twelve months; and he
guaranteed to the citizens their property and their franchises on the
payment of 300,000 crowns. On the 13th of January, 1419, the terms of
surrender were signed, and on the 19th Henry entered the city in triumph.
To his honour he strictly observed the treaty, suffering no infringement
of the citizens' rights, nor displaying any signs of vengeance. The only
person exempted from this clemency was a priest who had, during the
siege, excommunicated him, and pronounced the direst curses upon him. Him
he imprisoned for life; and a captain of the city militia was executed,
a few days after the entrance of the city, for treasonable designs.
The surrender of Rouen was a shock to the whole kingdom of France,
sufficient, one would have thought, to bring the contending factions to
a pause, and unite them for the protection of their common country; but
for a time it appeared to produce little effect on the rival parties
themselves. The people at large were struck with consternation, and
loudly complained that they were made the victims of the vices and
jealousies of their rulers. The people of Paris saw with indignation
the Duke of Burgundy and the queen flee out of the city, carrying the
king with them, and establish their headquarters at Lagny. They looked
upon themselves as basely betrayed, and declared that the capital had
been left exposed to the arms of the victor, who, it was well known,
was preparing to march along the Seine and invest the city with all his
forces. They said that the people of the provincial towns had been left
to fight their own battles; and now Paris was abandoned to its fate in
the same scandalous manner. The most vehement representations were made
to the heads of the hostile factions to settle their quarrels and combine
to repulse the invader. This wise counsel was wholly thrown away. Neither
party showed any disposition to reconciliation, but each hastened to open
negotiations with Henry of England, in order, by his means, to be able to
crush the other.
The Duke of Burgundy, who always courted popularity, endeavoured to
pacify the Parisians by issuing a proclamation, assuring them that he
was doing all in his power to remove the impediments to peace and the
settlement of the country. All, however, that was visible, was that
he sent an embassy to Henry at Rouen, proposing to attempt terms of
agreement betwixt him and France. The Dauphin, on his part, went further,
and offered to meet Henry, and endeavour personally to accommodate
matters. Henry listened courteously to both parties, accepting their
proposals with the utmost frankness, at the same time that he promised
nothing. The Dauphin, however, himself of a treacherous disposition,
hesitated to put himself into the power of Henry, and failed to keep
his appointment. Burgundy was no sooner informed of this, than availing
himself of it, as a favourable opportunity on his side, he sent a fresh
deputation to Rouen; armed, as he believed, with peculiar temptations.
These were a beautiful portrait of the Princess Catherine, accompanied
by a message from the queen, her mother, significantly asking whether
so charming a princess really needed so great a dowry as he demanded
with her. The ambassadors reported on their return that they found the
young conqueror at Rouen "as proud as a lion;" that he took the portrait
of Catherine, gazed long and earnestly upon it, acknowledged that it
certainly was beautiful; but refused to abate a jot of his demands. What
was still more decisive was the news that he had left Rouen, recrossed
the Seine, and had advanced along its banks already as far as Mantes,
within fifty miles of Paris.
It was arranged that the Kings of England and France, accompanied by
Burgundy, Isabella, and Catherine, on the part of France, and the Dukes
of Clarence and Gloucester on that of England, should meet on the banks
of the Seine, near Melun. The meeting was, however, productive of no
result, owing to the magnitude of Henry's demands. These were, first and
foremost, the hand of the princess; then the full possession of Normandy,
with all his other conquests, in addition to the territories ceded by the
Peace of Brétigny; the whole to be held in absolute independence of the
crown of France.
The queen and Burgundy demanded four days to deliberate on these sweeping
requisitions. When they met again they made no decided objection to
them, but they brought forward a string of counter-claims, eight in
number, regarding the relinquishment of these territories, the amount
of dowry, and the payment of debts. Henry began to flatter himself that
the necessities of the French court were in reality about to compel them
to concede his extraordinary terms. He set himself earnestly to work to
meet these objections, to modify, and even to contract, in some degree,
his demands. But he was not long in perceiving that no progress was made.
Difficulties were started at each conference, which were seized upon to
seek further consultation, further explanations; and he perceived at
the end of a month that only seven meetings had been held, between each
of which the intervals were growing longer and longer. The princess, in
spite of his inquiries, was not permitted to appear, and the indignant
monarch at length broke out in wrathful language to Burgundy, the only
person now sent to the conference, saying--"I tell you, fair cousin, that
we _will_ have the daughter of your king to wife, and will have her on
our own terms, or we will drive both him and you out of this kingdom."
The astute Burgundy replied, "Sire, you are pleased to say so; but I make
no doubt that, before you have succeeded in driving us out, you will be
heartily tired."
All this denoted that a new game was being played behind the scenes. The
fact was, that the Dauphin and the Armagnacs had become greatly alarmed
at the apparent progress towards an alliance between the royal party
and Henry of England. If it succeeded they were to be crushed. Every
engine was instantly put in motion to defeat this object. Overtures for
reconciliation were made to Burgundy and the queen; means had been found
to purchase the interest of an artful and abandoned woman, a Madame de
Giac, the mistress of Burgundy, who, attended by several of the leaders
of the Armagnac party, had been going to and fro between the Dauphin's
retreat and Pontoise. It was represented that it was far better for the
French princes to arrange their own differences than to admit the great
enemy of the nation, who would only cajole one party in order to destroy
both. Accordingly, when Henry--determined to dally no longer--insisted on
a final meeting, he went to the tent of conference at the day and hour
appointed, and found--nobody. The queen, Burgundy, and the Dauphin had
patched up a reconciliation, and dropped the mask unceremoniously at the
feet of the insulted King of England. The reconciled princes met on the
road at Pouilli-le-Fort, and there, with all outward signs of affection,
embraced and vowed eternal amity for the good of France.
The indignation and chagrin of Henry may be imagined. Independently of
the promised bride and sovereignty over a vast portion of France being
thus rudely snatched from him, his position was by no means encouraging.
He had only about 25,000 men to enable him to hold his conquests and to
pursue them to completion. Whilst Burgundy and the Dauphin were uniting
all the power of France to oppose him, his own subjects at home were
beginning to grumble at the expenditure of the war, and, as they saw
it likely to succeed in reducing France, to look with dismay on such a
result as likely to remove the seat of government to Paris, and make a
province of England. The Scots, he found, were at the same time entering
into treaty with the Dauphin against him, and the Kings of Castile and
Aragon had already fitted out a great armament, with which they scoured
the coasts of Guienne and menaced Bayonne.
The French were in ecstasies of delight at the turn which affairs had
taken; in every quarter of the kingdom vigorous efforts were made to take
advantage of it, and the army of Henry was proportionably depressed.
But Henry--though, in addition to this insolent display of perfidy, his
treasury was very low--never for a moment suffered an air of doubt or
despondency to shade his countenance, much less an expression of it to
escape him. He immediately ordered his army to advance on Paris, crossed
the Seine, fell on the town of Pontoise, and took it. The leaders of the
Burgundian party, after accomplishing their agreement with the Dauphin,
had quitted it, and Burgundy himself was at St. Denis; but even there he
did not deem himself safe, and hastily retreated to Troyes, carrying the
poor King of France with him.
In the meantime, the victorious troops of Henry appeared before the gates
of the capital, which was left almost destitute of soldiers, and must
soon fall into the hands of the enemy if not relieved. The English beat
up the whole neighbourhood, and seized the supplies which should have
entered the city, where famine and fever were the only reigning powers.
So far from any real union having taken place betwixt the Burgundians
and the Dauphin, they were paralysed by Henry's rapid pursuit of them,
and were too conscious of internal hatred and treachery to approach each
other. Two months had already elapsed since the much-vaunted union,
and Burgundy was still unavailingly entreating the Dauphin to join his
father's council at Troyes, and the Dauphin recommending Burgundy and
the queen to meet him at Montereau-sur-Yonne. As neither would move,
the influence of Madame de Giac was again invoked, who succeeded in
prevailing on the duke to go as far as Bray-sur-Seine, only two leagues
from Montereau. Having succeeded so far, fitting instruments were then
chosen to induce the unfortunate Burgundy to proceed to Montereau to an
interview with the Dauphin, for that base prince would not budge a step
out of his safe quarters to bring about this necessary interview. At
length a meeting was arranged by Tannegui du Châtel, a leading Orleanist.
On approaching the town, Burgundy sent to announce to the Dauphin his
arrival, when he was speedily attended by Tannegui du Châtel, who brought
him from the Dauphin the most solemn assurances, "on the word of a
prince," that no injury should be offered to him or his. It was agreed
that he should take only ten knights with him, and that the Dauphin
should bring only the same number on his side. The meeting was to take
place on the bridge, which was to be guarded at the end by which he
entered by his own troops, and at the other by those of the Dauphin.
Before proceeding, the duke learned that three barriers were drawn across
the bridge with a gate in each; this appeared to excite his suspicion,
and at this moment one of his valets, who had been into the castle to
make preparations for the reception of the duke and his train, came in
haste and warned him not to go upon the bridge, as he would assuredly
be slain or taken prisoner. On this the duke, turning to Tannegui, said,
"How is this? You have pledged your honour for our safety, but do you
say true?" The traitor swore he would die himself rather than permit any
injury to the duke, and the unfortunate victim went on.
[Illustration: HENRY'S WOOING OF THE PRINCESS CATHERINE.]
Yet again, as he had dismounted, and was walking to the bridge, another
of his servants rushed up and implored him to remain, for he had seen
throngs of armed men collecting on the other side of the river. On this
the duke paused, and sent forward the Sieur de Giac to see if it were so,
but the false man reported that the whole was a fiction: and Tannegui
urged the duke to make haste, for his master had been waiting for him
more than an hour. This decided the matter; the duke hurried forward, and
no sooner had he passed the first gate on the bridge with his attendants,
than it was closed and secured behind him, and so the second. Once more
the suspicions of the duke being roused, he laid his hand on Tannegui,
and said, "Here is what I trust in." It was a deadly trust. "Let us
hasten," said Tannegui, "to my lord the Dauphin." They pushed forward
towards the next barrier, where the Dauphin was standing, and on the
duke kneeling with his velvet cap in his hand, he was suddenly struck
down from behind by the villain who had lured him on by every sacred
assurance. He was speedily despatched; one of his followers, the Sieur
de Navailles, was killed also by Tannegui as he attempted to defend his
master. The Lord of Neufchâtel darted away, sprang over the barriers,
and escaped; the rest of the attendants were surrounded, overpowered,
and seized. While this was going on, the soldiers of the Dauphin, of
whom Burgundy had been warned by his faithful servants, rushed from
their hiding-place, scoured over the bridge, and fell upon the duke's
followers. These, thus taken by surprise, fled, and got back to Bray.
The horror which this most detestable deed excited throughout France,
familiar as it was with crimes and tragedies, was intense. One burst of
execration was heard throughout the country against the Dauphin. That
a young man of seventeen could stand calmly and see so vile a murder
perpetrated--a murder which, it was plain, had been planned in his own
councils--promised but a gloomy future to France. The people vowed to
renounce all allegiance to him, or regard for his power. The Parisians
in particular swore vengeance on him and his accomplices. They demanded
a truce of the English, sent in all haste for the Count of Charolais,
the son of their murdered leader, and demanded immediate alliance with
the English, as the most certain means of exterminating the diabolical
faction of the Dauphin.
This storm of indignant contempt aroused the Dauphin to vindicate his
concern in the affair. He issued a proclamation, declaring that the Duke
of Burgundy had made an attempt upon his (the Dauphin's) life, and had
been slain by his attendants in defence of their prince. But this was so
notoriously false that it only deepened the scorn of the public against
him; and his more honest followers went about boasting of the deed as a
grand stratagem and a truly glorious exploit.
Meantime, Philip, the new Duke of Burgundy, afterwards so well known
by the title of Philip the Good, received the news of his father's
assassination at Ghent, and immediately set out to take vengeance for
it. He was married to a sister of the Dauphin, and exclaimed bluntly,
on learning the bloody fact, "Michelle, your brother has murdered my
father!" The duke had been very popular with his Flemish subjects,
and with one voice they vowed to support his heir in punishing to the
utmost the assassins. At Arras the new duke was met by deputations from
Isabella, from the city of Paris, and from his own Burgundian subjects,
all offering alliance and support in his righteous work of retribution.
The duke at once made overtures to Henry of England, as the certain means
of crushing the Dauphin and his furious partisans. Henry proposed, as
the price of his co-operation, the hand of the Princess Catherine, that
he should be announced as regent of the kingdom, and as the successor
to Charles, setting wholly aside the Dauphin. These terms were at once
accepted, placing Henry at the height of his ambition, for nothing was
too dear for the vengeance required. Within two weeks these preliminaries
were signed, but the minor points occupied five months, and, in fact,
were the business of the whole winter. These were that Henry should
settle on Catherine 20,000 nobles, the usual income of an English queen;
that during his regency he should govern with the advice of a council
of Frenchmen; lay aside the title of King of France during the present
king's life; should re-annex Normandy to the crown of France on ascending
the throne, and conquer the territories held by the Dauphin for the
benefit of the king, his father. He was bound to preserve the Parliaments
and nobles, the charters of all cities, and the liberties and privileges
of all classes of subjects, as they then existed; and to administer
justice according to the laws and customs of the realm.
It was, moreover, stipulated between Henry and the Duke of Burgundy, that
the Duke of Bedford, one of the king's brothers, should marry a sister of
Burgundy; that together the king and the duke should pursue the Dauphin
and the other murderers; and that Henry should on no account allow the
Dauphin to go out of his hands, if he took him, without the consent of
the duke. Besides this, Henry was to settle on Burgundy and his duchess,
Michelle, lands in France of the annual value of 20,000 livres.
Accompanied by 16,000 men-at-arms, Henry entered Troyes, where the
French court was, on the 30th of May, 1419, and the next day "the
perpetual peace" was ratified by Isabella and Philip of Burgundy as the
commissioners of Charles. The treaty was accepted with the most apparent
alacrity and unanimity by the Estates General, the nobles, the heads of
the church, the municipality, and all the corporate bodies of Paris.
The highest eulogiums were pronounced by the Government authorities on
Henry. He was declared, in addresses to the public bodies, to be a most
wise and virtuous prince, _a lover of peace_ and justice; a prince who
maintained the most admirable discipline in his army, driving thence all
lewd women, and protecting the women and the poor of the country from
injury and insult; and a fast friend of the Church and of learning. Equal
laudation was bestowed on his piety and the graces of his person. In
short, there was no virtue and no advantage which they did not attribute
to him; and though much of this was true, the whole had such an air
of the sycophancy of an unprincipled court, as deprived it of any real
value. Under all this yet lurked the feeling, especially in the people,
that Henry was still a foreigner, and that France had ceased to be an
independent country.
Henry conducted the queen and princess to the high altar, and the young
couple were there affianced, and "on the 3rd of June, Trinity Sunday,"
says Monstrelet, "the King of England wedded the Lady Catherine, at
Troyes, in the parish church, near which he lodged. Great pomp and
magnificence were displayed by him and his princes, as if he had been
king of the whole world." The next day he gave a splendid entertainment,
where the knights of both nations preparing a series of tournaments in
honour of the marriage, Henry, continues Monstrelet, said, "I pray my
lord the king to permit, and I command his servants and mine to be all
ready by to-morrow morning to go and lay siege to Sens, wherein are our
enemies. There every man may have jousting and tourneying enough, and may
give proof of his prowess; for there is no finer prowess than that of
doing justice on the wicked, in order that poor people may breathe and
live."
On the second day after his marriage he accordingly set out on his march
to Sens, carrying his young queen with him. In two days Sens opened
its gates, and the king and queen entered it in state. The Archbishop
of Sens, who married him, had been expelled from his diocese by the
Armagnacs, and Henry had the pleasure of reinstating him, which he did in
this graceful manner:--"Now, my Lord Archbishop, we are quits; you gave
me my wife the other day, and I this day restore you to yours."
From Sens he marched upon Montereau, accompanied by the Duke of Burgundy,
who was particularly anxious to reduce and punish the governor, who had
assisted at the murder of his father. Montereau made a desperate, but
not a long resistance. During this siege, Henry's bride resided with her
father and mother and their court at Bray-sur-Seine, where Henry visited
them.
From Montereau the united forces of England and France proceeded to
Villeneuve-le-Roy, and thence to Mélun, which resisted all their efforts
for four months. The Dauphin had escaped into Languedoc, where he joined
the young Count Armagnac, who had a strong party there. But Barbazan, the
governor of Mélun, was one of the men suspected of being engaged in the
murder of the Duke of Burgundy, and the present duke was eager to secure
him and other of his accomplices. Henry, therefore, excepted in the terms
of capitulation all such as were participators in the guilt of that deed;
but, on surrender, he interceded for Barbazan, and saved his life.
During this obstinate siege, which continued till the 18th of November,
the court resided at Corbeil, where the poor old King of France was
accustomed to have his melancholy soothed by the fine military band of
his English son-in-law--the first expressly mentioned in history. The
siege over, the two courts and all their attendants returned in a species
of triumph to Paris. Henry and his father-in-law went first, as a matter
of precaution, and made their entry into the city accompanied by a strong
body of troops. The place was in a state of absolute starvation--to such
a condition had the protracted civil war and the many massacres and riots
which had taken place within and around its walls reduced it. Children
were running through the streets in the agonies of famine, and old and
young were actually perishing on the pavement. Yet, amid all its horrors
and miseries, this strange capital put on an air of high rejoicing. The
streets and houses were hung with tapestry and gay carpets, and if there
was little to eat, the conduits were made to run with wine. The entrance
of the two kings side by side was something like that of Saul and David
into Jerusalem. The acclamations of the multitude were chiefly directed
towards the hero of Agincourt. At the sight of him the people seemed to
think themselves almost in possession of the wealth and the fat beeves of
England. The principal citizens appeared wearing the red cross, the badge
of the English; and the clergy in solemn procession chanted, "Blessed is
he that cometh in the name of the Lord." The next day the two queens made
their entry amid similar pageants and acclamations.
Charles summoned the three estates of the kingdom, and explained to them
in a long speech the reasons which had induced him to make "a final and
perpetual peace with his dear son, the King of England." The assembly
gave its unanimous approbation to the treaty, and after that the Duke of
Burgundy, apparelled in deep mourning, appeared before them, and demanded
justice on the assassins of his father. The king pronounced judgment
against them, as guilty of high treason, and they were proclaimed
incapable of holding any office or property, their vassals, at the same
time, being absolved from all their oaths of fealty and obligations of
service. The Dauphin was mentioned as "Charles, calling himself Dauphin";
but he was not directly implicated as the author or abettor of the crime.
At this assembly Isabella was also proclaimed regent of France during the
absence of Henry, who now proceeded to England, there to introduce his
queen to his subjects and to see her crowned. The whole of this journey
and the coronation was like the ovation of an ancient conqueror. After
spending their Christmas at Paris, Henry and his young queen set out
at the head of 6,000 men, commanded by the Duke of Bedford. They were
received with great festivity at the different towns on their way; and
on the 1st of February they left Calais, and landed at Dover, where,
according to Monstrelet, "Catherine was received as if she had been
an angel of God." The whole reception of the young conqueror and his
beautiful bride was of the most enthusiastic kind. They proceeded first
to Eltham, and thence, after due rest, to London, where Catherine was
crowned with high state, on the 24th of February, 1421.
After the coronation, the royal pair made a progress northward as far as
the shrine of St. John of Beverley. But here Henry's gay progress was cut
short by the disastrous news of the defeat of his troops in France at the
battle of Beaugé. Henry had left his brother, the Duke of Clarence, in
command of his forces in Normandy, and Clarence, intending to strike a
blow at the power of the Dauphin in Anjou, marched into that country, and
fell in, not only with the Armagnacs, but with a body of 6,000 or 7,000
auxiliary Scots, near the town of Beaugé. These Scots had been engaged by
the Armagnac party to serve against the English as a fitting counterpart.
They were commanded by the Earl of Buchan, second son of the Duke of
Albany, the Regent of Scotland. He had under him the Earl of Wigton, Lord
Stuart of Darnley, Sir John Swinton, and other brave officers. The Duke
of Clarence, deceived by the false report of some prisoners, hastened to
surprise what he regarded as an inconsiderable body of troops. In his
rash haste, and in opposition to the earnest advice of his officers, he
left behind him his archers, and thus gave another convincing proof that
in that force, and not in the men-at-arms, lay the secret of the English
victories. He was assured that the Scots were keeping very indifferent
watch and discipline, and made sure of securing an easy conquest. Having
forced the passage of a bridge, Clarence was dashing on at the head
of his cavalry, distinguished by a magnificent suit of armour, and a
coronet of gold set with jewels, when he was met by the Scottish knights
in full charge. Sir John Swinton spurred his horse right upon the duke,
and bore him from his saddle with his lance, and the Earl of Buchan, as
he fell, dashed out his brains with his battle-axe. The archers, however,
came up in time to prevent the Scots from carrying off the body, and they
speedily cleared the field with their clothyard shafts. In this encounter
the English lost about 1,200 men, and had 300 taken prisoners; the Scots
and French lost together about 1,000 men. The moral effect of this battle
was immense. Though the victory actually remained with the English, yet
the impression which the Scots made before the arrival of the archers,
and their having killed the royal duke, the brother of the victorious
Henry, and the Governor of Normandy, and having taken prisoner the Earls
of Somerset, Dorset, and Huntingdon, seemed to point them out as the only
soldiers in the world capable of contending with the English. Pope Martin
V., when this news reached him, exclaimed, "Ha! the Scots are the only
antidote to the English!" The joy of the Dauphin's party at this first
gleam of success for many years over the dreaded islanders, was ecstatic.
He created the Earl of Buchan Constable of France, the highest office of
the kingdom, and Count of Aubigny.
The fame of this exploit on the field of Beaugé, and of the rewards
showered in consequence on their countrymen, roused the martial Scots,
and they poured over in large numbers into France. The spell of England's
invincibility seemed for a moment broken, and enemies began to start
up in various quarters. Jacques de Harcourt issued from his castle of
Crotoy, in Picardy, and harassed the English both at sea and on shore.
Poitou de Saintrailles and Vignolles, called La Hire, also infested
Picardy. The fickle Parisians, who so lately shouted and carolled on
the entrance of Henry into their city, now openly expressed their
discontent, and proceeded to such lengths, that the English commander
there, the Duke of Exeter, was compelled to drive them from the streets
with his inimitable archers. The Dauphin, taking courage from all these
circumstances, began to advance from the south towards the capital.
Henry, greatly chagrined at these events--calculated, if not stopped,
to add infinitely to the difficulties in the path of his ambition--lost
no time in preparing to reach the scene of action. He ordered troops to
assemble with all celerity at Dover. He called together Parliament and
Convocation, both of which met his views with the greatest alacrity.
Parliament ratified at once the treaty of Troyes, and authorised his
council to raise loans on its own security. The clergy granted him a
tenth. To take a signal vengeance on the Scots, whose valour and the
rashness of Clarence had thus broken in on his triumphs and enjoyments
at home, he called on the young King of Scots to fulfil his engagement
to serve in France under his banners; the condition being his return
to Scotland three months after the termination of the campaign. Henry
deemed that by this measure he should not only put Scot against Scot, but
should, by having the Scottish king with him, deter any of his subjects
from taking arms on the other side, and thus actually fighting against
their own monarch. In this hope he was disappointed; but as the Scots
had entered the French service without any declaration of war made by
Scotland against England, the presence of the Scottish king on his side
furnished him with the plea of treating every Scot who did battle on the
other side as a traitor; and he sullied his fair fame when he came into
the field by hanging every such Scot as fell into his hands.
[Illustration: MONMOUTH CASTLE, BIRTHPLACE OF HENRY V.
(_From a photograph by R. Tudor Williams, Monmouth._)]
Henry saw there collected under his banner a gallant army of 4,000
men-at-arms and 24,000 archers. With these he landed at Calais on the
12th of June, sent on 1,200 men-at-arms by forced marches to Paris, to
strengthen the garrison of the Duke of Exeter, and followed himself at
more leisure. At Montreuil he met the Duke of Burgundy, and arranged the
plans of action. Burgundy, in consequence, marched into Picardy, attacked
and defeated the Dauphinites, and took Saintrailles and others of their
bravest leaders prisoners. This revived the spirit of the royalists, and
they speedily reduced various other places in the north-west.
Henry left the army under command of the Earl of Dorset, and hastening
to Paris, paid a hasty visit to his father-in-law at the Bois de
Vincennes. He then joined the army and advanced against Chartres, which
was besieged by the Dauphin. The siege of Chartres was raised at Henry's
approach, Beaugency was next taken, and the Dauphin retreated beyond the
Loire. In the meantime the King of Scots, to whom Henry had assigned the
siege of Dreux, prosecuted his mission with equal zeal and talent, and
brought that strong place to capitulate on the 30th of August.
The whole of France, from the north to Paris, and from Paris to the
Loire, was almost entirely in the hands of the English and their allies
the Burgundians. The Dauphin, unable to stand a moment before the
superior genius and troops of Henry, fell back successively from post
to post, till he took refuge in the well-fortified city of Bourges. The
troops of Henry had suffered considerably by their rapid marches and
from scarcity of provisions. Henry, therefore, abandoned the pursuit
of the Dauphin for a while; the country, from its past calamities,
still lying a desert, and the miserable people perishing of hunger. He
sought out sufficiently good quarters for his army, and left them to
refresh themselves while he paid a short visit to Paris. He was very
soon, however, in the field again, and by the 6th of October had sat
down before the city of Meaux on the Marne. He was induced to undertake
this siege from the earnest solicitations of the people of Paris. They
represented that it was the stronghold of one of the most ferocious
monsters who in those fearful times spread horror through afflicted
France. This was an old companion of the late Count of Armagnac, called
the Bastard of Vaurus, who had become so infuriated by the murder of his
master, that the whole of mankind hardly seemed sufficient to appease,
by death and suffering, his revenge. It cost Henry ten weeks to carry
the town; and then the monster of Vaurus retired with his garrison to
the market-place, which defied all the efforts of the English and their
allies. The siege was carried on with sanguinary fury; no quarter was
given on either side. On the 10th of May, 1422, the market-place was
compelled to surrender from absolute famine; though the Dauphin had
despatched the Sieur d'Affemont to endeavour to throw supplies into this
fortress. Affemont was taken prisoner, and the place fell. The Bastard
of Vaurus was beheaded, his body hung up on his own oak, and his banner,
surmounted with his head, was attached to its highest bough. Three of his
chief companions, who had vied with him in violence and ferocity, were
executed with him; and a number of persons, suspected of being accessory
to the death of the Duke of Burgundy, were marched to Paris to take their
trials.
Henry had spent seven months in these operations. They had cost him
a great number of his brave soldiers, and some of his most tried
officers--amongst them the Earl of Worcester and Lord Clifford, who
fell before the walls of Meaux. Sickness swept away many others; but
the advantages of the reduction of Meaux were as distinguished as the
cost; for it laid all the north of France as far as the Loire, with
the exception of Maine, Anjou, and a few castles in Picardy, under
his dominion. Whilst he lay before Meaux, however, he received the
joyful intelligence of the safe delivery of his queen of a son, who had
received his own name; the Duke of Bedford, the Bishop of Winchester, and
Jacqueline, Countess of Hainault and Holland--who proved the cause of
many misfortunes to the infant prince--being sponsors at his baptism.
One thing, however, troubled his joy on this auspicious event. Henry had
probably studied the so-called science of astrology at Oxford, for it
was part of the mass of rubbish regarded as real knowledge at that time.
On leaving England, therefore, he strictly enjoined Catherine not to
lie in at Windsor, for he had ascertained that the planets cast forward
a lowering shadow upon Windsor, in the week when she might expect her
confinement. From waywardness, or some other cause, Catherine specially
chose as the place of her accouchement the forbidden spot--a conduct
which she lived bitterly to rue. On the news being brought to Henry at
Meaux, he eagerly demanded where the boy was born, and on being told it
was at Windsor, he appeared greatly struck and chagrined, and repeated to
his chamberlain, Lord Fitzhugh, the following lines:--
"I, Henry, born at Monmouth,
Shall small time reign and much get;
But Henry of Windsor shall long reign, and lose all.
But as God wills, so be it."
It is probable that these were sentiments which the king expressed, and
that they owe their sibylline form to some chronicler or astrologer of
the time. It is certain that Speed, Stowe, Fabyan and Holinshed concur
in saying that the king "prophesied the calamities of Henry VI." The
boy was born on the 6th of December, 1421. On hearing of the fall of
Meaux, Catherine left her infant to the care of its uncle, the Duke of
Gloucester, and hastened to join Henry in France. She was escorted by
the Duke of Bedford and 20,000 fresh troops, to enable Henry to complete
the conquest of her brother and his unhappy country. She landed at
Harfleur on the 21st of May, where she was received with great state and
rejoicing by numbers of noblemen and gentlemen, who accompanied her on
her route to Paris by Rouen to the Bois de Vincennes, where her father's
court resided. Henry set out for Meaux to meet her there, and thence
the two courts proceeded together to Paris to spend the festival of
Whitsuntide.
But in the midst of these gay though unsatisfactory rejoicings there came
a pressing message from the Duke of Burgundy to Henry, entreating him
to hasten to his assistance against the Dauphin. Those sturdy Scots who
had made such havoc amongst Henry's troops at Beaugé, were still in the
country; and the Dauphin, collecting 20,000 men in the south, had put
them under the command of the Earl of Buchan, the leader of those troops.
They had crossed the Loire, taken La Charité, and proceeded to invest
Cosne. At Cosne the Dauphin joined Buchan; and the Duke of Burgundy, to
whom these towns belonged, seeing that his hereditary duchy of Burgundy
would next be menaced, was most urgent in his appeal to Henry to fly to
his assistance.
Henry, in the midst of his glory and his good fortune, had for some
time felt the approaches of an illness that no exercise in the field or
festivities in the city enabled him to shake off. In vain he resisted the
insidious disease. It seized relentlessly on his constitution, and defied
all the science of his physicians. At the call of Burgundy, however, he
roused himself, and set out from Paris at the end of July. Cosne had
agreed to surrender if not relieved by the 16th of August, and Henry was
impatient to come up in time. But a greater victor than himself was now
come out against him. Death had laid his hand upon him; and he had only
reached Senlis, about twenty-eight miles from Paris, when he was seized
with such debility that he was obliged to be carried thence to Corbeil
in a horse-litter. There, spite of his determined attempt to go on, his
malady assumed such feverish and alarming symptoms that he was compelled
to give up, and surrender the command of the army to the Duke of Bedford.
He had left the queen at Senlis, but she was now returned to the Bois de
Vincennes, and thither he caused himself to be conveyed by water.
In the castle of Vincennes, which had witnessed many a strange passage
in the history of France and her sovereigns, the great conqueror now lay
helpless and hopeless of life, tended by Catherine and her mother. His
very name had once more scared the Dauphin from the field. No sooner did
he hear that Henry was on the way, than he hastily abandoned the siege
of Cosne, recrossed the Loire, and threw himself again into Bourges. The
Duke of Bedford, who found no enemy in the field, was preparing to cross
the Loire in pursuit of him, when he was recalled to the dying bed of his
royal brother.
If there ever was a combination of circumstances to make a death-bed
hard, and cause the heart to cling tenaciously to life, they were those
which surrounded Henry of Monmouth. But never, in the most trying hour
of his existence, not even when he contemplated the vast hosts hemming
him in on the eve of the great fight of Agincourt, did he display such
unbroken firmness. For himself he expressed no anxiety and no regrets;
his only solicitude was for his son and successor, still only nine months
old. He called to his bedside his brother the Duke of Bedford, the
Earl of Warwick, and others of his lords, and to them he gave the most
solemn injunctions to be faithful guardians of their infant sovereign.
He expressed no remorse for the blood which he had shed in his wars,
unquestionably believing all that he had so often asserted, that he was
the chosen instrument of Providence for the chastisement and renovation
of France.
To the Duke of Bedford he said, "Comfort my dear wife--the most afflicted
creature living." He most earnestly recommended the Duke and all his
commanders to cultivate the friendship of the Duke of Burgundy; never
to make peace with Charles, who "called himself Dauphin," except on
condition of his total renunciation of the crown; never to release the
Duke of Orleans or any of the French princes of the blood taken at
Agincourt; nor in any way to yield the claims of his son on France. He
appointed his brother, the Duke of Gloucester, protector in England
during his son's minority, and his brother the Duke of Bedford regent in
France, who should avail himself on all occasions of the counsel of the
Duke of Burgundy. Being assured by his physicians that he had not more
than two hours to live, he then sent for his spiritual counsellors; and
while they were chanting the seven penitential psalms he stopped them at
the verse, "Build thou the walls of Jerusalem," and assured them that
when he had completed the settlement of France he had always intended
to undertake a crusade. This was precisely what his father had done on
his death-bed; and this appeared still a favourite idea of the European
princes. Having thus systematically concluded all his affairs, temporal
and spiritual, he calmly died on the last day of August, 1422, amid the
sobs and deep grief of all around him. The contemporary writer, Titus
Livius of Friuli, who had seen him, thus describes his person:--"In
stature he was a little above the middle size; his countenance was
beautiful, his neck long, his body slender, and his limbs most elegantly
formed. He was very strong; and so swift, that, with two companions,
without either dogs or missive weapons, he caught a doe, one of the
fleetest animals. He was a lover of music, and excelled in all martial
and manly exercises." He was buried in Westminster Abbey.