The Agincourt Campaign (Part III)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction inspired by true events. 

Part III

The King’s Speech

Sickness had inflicted the English army and more men than King Henry had wanted would need to stay behind in Harfleur. There was no looting or murder when the king’s men marched into the city, unlike the battle of Chiset, when the French tortured, murdered, and imprisoned anyone left after the battle, even those who willingly surrendered. The French even cut off two fingers from every Englishman’s right hand, so as to make it impossible to serve as an archer ever again. But most were killed; a man-at-arms or archer was not valuable for ransom. King Henry was not a brutal man, but he was not weak when dealing with his enemies. However, he was known to be merciful.

“I will gain the trust of these lowly French peasants through mercy and superior rule,” said the king.

And so as he had promised, any Frenchman who wished to leave Harfleur was permitted to go. Not many did, however, seeing that their homes were not sacked and burned. They wished to remain with their homes and possessions instead of risking the dangerous French countryside, where highwaymen and Burgundy’s troops roamed. The two commanding knights of Harfleur were kept under heavy guard however. King Henry’s resources had been greatly depleted by the siege, since it had taken longer than expected, and now he needed to find funds to further the campaign. A messenger was sent out to Paris so as to negotiate a ransom for these knights, but it was more than a week before an answer was given. Finances for the campaign were eventually supplemented through this negotiation, but less than was hoped for.

Sir James patrolled the streets with his men, even several days after the victory. This was when a great commotion occurred. There was a crowd of people in the yard before a church, mostly French peasants and some English men-at-arms. They were yelling and directing anger at something, or someone. James and his men hurried to investigate.

“Step back, peasants, knaves!” ordered James drawing his sword. The red lion engraving that rested below the blade shimmered in the sunlight.

The crowd obeyed but still showed anger. Then the English knight saw why there was such a great stir. The French dauphin had been dragged out from hiding within the church’s strong walls and had been beaten. The rabble of peasants grew increasingly angry when Sir James went to the dauphin’s side. The English soldiers, who were outnumbered here, brandished their weapons and held aloft their shields.

“Tell me why do you harbor such anger?” James yelled at the crowd. They only answered with harsh tones and hostile insults. Then one man spoke up and addressed the English knight in his language.

“Our dauphin betrayed us!” he said. “We know your king offered to settle the siege through a challenge of combat with this man! He refused! He is a coward! He might have saved Harfleur much grief, whether through defeat or victory, had he accepted your king’s reasonable request. The dauphin betrayed us!”

He spoke in French and the crowd surged, but the strong men-at-arms pushed back. The rabble threw rocks and the soldiers threw punches.

“Stop! Stop and allow the good King Henry to administer proper judgment on this man for you!” Sir James pleaded with the crowd.

The men-at-arms pushed back more against the angry crowd, who had not been entirely calmed by the knight’s words. They were still upset and spat and hurled insults towards the dauphin as the English escorted him away. The dauphin, who had suffered a few blows to the head before the English arrived, looked at his rescuer and thanked him.

“Merci, monsieur,” he said.

“Do not thank me,” answered James. “It is the king who deserves your gratitude.”

“Who is this?” Fastolf came to James as they went up towards Harfleur’s keep. “It seems the city’s peasants are angry and seek to do you and this man harm. There is a mob following us.”

“He is the dauphin,” replied James as he firmly led the man by the arm.

“Ah, this is the man who would not answer King Henry’s challenge!” asked Fastolf while taking a hard look at the man.

“Aye, and it should be his majesty the king who decides his fate,”

They arrived at the stone keep, which now flew English colors. The dauphin looked up, and beholding the banner of the House of Lancaster, grew shameful and afraid of the king’s reaction at seeing him. The guards knew this man was important; else a knight would not be escorting him. Then they saw the following crowd and moved to protect the gate with the other men-at-arms. But the rabble did not approach the gate, seeing that great harm would come to them from above, as many longbow men looked at them from atop the wall with arrows notched.

“Spoils of war, eh James?” Thomas Lancaster met them in the courtyard.

“I am sure your brother, the king, will take great interest in this man,” replied Sir James throwing the man forward to his knees. “The dauphin of Harfleur! He who refused Henry’s honorable challenge."

“Clap him in irons, men!” Thomas ordered.

The dauphin did not protest, figuring it was safer with the English than with his own countrymen. However, he was still fearful of the English king’s response to his capture. They went to Henry, who was busy discussing military details with his captains. The dauphin was forced to his knees before the king, and the men-at-arms held him tightly while also showing respect with bowed heads. Henry did not pay them heed right away, not even his respected knights and brother dared to interrupt him.

“Who is this lowly fellow?” the king’s attention finally turned to the prisoner. “His stench offends my nostrils and his appearance causes my eyes to twitch!”

“He is dauphin of Harfleur, m’lord,” answered James.

“This is the one who was too frightened to face me in single combat?” King Henry rose from his seat and went to inspect the prisoner. “This is he who could have saved his city, but instead hid to save his own skin?”

“The very same, lord,” James grabbed the dauphin by the collar and forced him to his feet.

Henry circled the prisoner and haughtily inspected him. The king reached up to his own clean shaven face and touched his scar, the one he had received at the Battle of Shrewsbury.

“I do not have time to deal with this man,” said Henry. “Throw him in the dungeons and let his shame eat away at his conscience! His neck does not deserve to meet my sword!”

“Thank you, sire!” said the dauphin, who knew he was being spared the torture of the mob’s wrath.

  “Do not thank me, coward,” answered Henry. “For before snow covers this place the rats in prison will eat out your eyes!” The soldiers then took him away and tossed him into one of the dark, damp holes reserved for political prisoners.

A few days passed, and the French peasants became more accepting of King Henry’s occupation, but still held bitter thoughts towards him. At this time an ambassador came with an offer to pay a handsome sum for the ransom of the two French knights.

“My army has been depleted far too much!” said Henry. “I do not believe my original plan to take Paris will see light before winter.”

“Do we go home, sire?” asked Thomas Lancaster. “It would be a shame if the men were not permitted the spoils of war after their fine work to capture Harfleur for you.”

“We will leave Normandy,” said the king. His men looked surprised. They all wondered if he were conceding his claim to France so easily. “But, we will march up the coast attacking the smaller villages, taking prisoners. Let the men have their way! Eventually we will turn east, then north. There may be a few strong pockets of resistance along the coast between Dieppe and Boulogne, so we must avoid those places. Thomas, my brother, you will remain here with your men and ensure that England’s interests are secure until we return.”

“So eventually we go east to Pèronne then finally north to the coast?” asked James. “There we can ferry across the Strait of Dover back to England.”

“Yes, and pray the French do not catch us before Calais!” said Fastolf.

“Go now and prepare the horses,” ordered Henry. “Bribe the men with promises of plunder and prizes if you must. I know they are weary but the prospect of home will offer comfort and peace.”

“What of those who are injured or sickly, m’lord?” asked Sir James. “They cannot travel with us.”

“They will be spared from further warfare!” said Henry leaving the keep. “But, now Harfleur is England. They are home!”

Henry went out and now preparations to leave the city began. A messenger went forth to the coast and informed the captain of the king’s ship to move up the coast towards Dover. A few ships followed, while others remained to protect Harfleur and the Sienna. Then the king mounted his strong black mare and rode off on the northern road, followed by his knights. The men-at-arms and archers fell in behind with their horses and carts and siege weapons, wending their way along the route the king had determined. No attempt on Paris would be made now, instead they would raid smaller cities and towns along the coast. Little resistance was given as the English ravaged the territories north of the capitol. Sir James and his friend, Fastolf, were witness to barbarities that shamed them during this campaign. However, their protests fell on death ears when they came to the king.

“The men must keep their spirits high!” answered Henry. “And those who deny my kingship must be punished! I do not intend for the French to see my rule as weak.”

When the army crossed the Somme River John Hardyng of York rode to meet them. He had come from Calais and set out upon hearing of Henry’s journey north. The king’s strength now increased slightly with this retinue from York. And although there had once been a rivalry between Houses of Lancaster and York, King Henry now welcomed Hardyng and the extra troops. And then, as though the depressing rain was not enough, a scout arrived bringing news for Henry that was not welcomed:

”M’lord, the French have mustered an army at Rouen,” he said. “This is perhaps the force that intended to relieve Harfleur.  By now they know it is too late to rescue that city and so they shadow our movements.”

“Ah, so it is good that the Somme lies between us and the French!” said the king.

“It will be hard to avoid them, lord,” said James. “Our army is still weak and slow. The men had not yet recovered from a lengthy siege when we set out upon this march. This French force has been sitting on their bums all the while, fat and well rested.”

“Then we must simply hurry along to Calais!” answered the king. “The city there will be safe. Its walls will protect us as we prepare our withdrawal to England. Let us go on!”

Ever optimistic, King Henry set spurs to his horse and galloped on ahead, passing his sluggish and tiring troops. Many had brought horses with them, but most of these animals remained in the city or had been lost during the siege. As news spread that a French army was on their heels, the exhausted English soldiers now quickened their pace, eager to reach the safety of Calais. They nervously looked back over their shoulders as the march went on. The siege equipment was abandoned, allowing them to move quicker, but the fear of seeing the French cavalry riding over the horizon behind them lingered. Days and weeks of this fear went by, until October had nearly expired. It was then that the English came to a clearing between the woods of Tramecourt and Azincourt, which the English called Agincourt. The French had managed to block the only clear path on towards Calais ahead of them. It was their skilled horsemen and mounted knights that enabled them to find a way ahead of King Henry. The English were fatigued and suffered from sickness. Now the armies faced each other, but no action was taken. The French did not advance. King Henry therefor desired to give his men more time to rest.

“M’lord, our situation is dire!” said Sir James. “Even with Hardyng’s men we are outmanned. We need more men in order to defeat the army before us!”

“James, you are a valuable man to me,” answered the king. “and I have always known you to be pious. But we must remain confident, and use our superior skill as bowmen to offset this disadvantage. Perhaps the archers can find cover in the trees there?”

Henry pointed to either forest that enclosed what would become the battlefield.

“Put our archers in the trees and hide them,” Henry continued. “We will use our arrows to flank them once battle is joined. I will lead our men down the middle. Sir James and Fastolf; you will be with me.”

“I will take some men to guard the archers of the right flank,” said Sir Benedict. “My heavy knights will not be much use bogged down in the deep mud in the middle with you, my king.”

“Then I will go to the left flank,” said Montacute. “Still sire, this is a grim task. Looking at the French camp it appears as though there is a great host of them. Do we have hope of victory?”

“You speak as a fool would!” said King Henry. “Do you not believe that the Almighty, with this small force of men on his side, can conquer the hostile arrogance of the French? They pride themselves on their own strength! Let us pray to God and lean on the strength of our longbows.”

Montacute said nothing, but the king did not jest about praying. Every man in his army made confessions that night. Many priests dispersed around the encampment. The men were ordered to remain silent with their thoughts. Henry wished them to all remain focused on their coming task, rather than drinking and being merry.

“Quiet, all of you!” Henry’s captains ordered as they went around the camp. “Else your right ear will be cut off. That’ll teach you to maintain silence!”

This was of course absurd, for a man would scream in pain if his ear was lopped off. But still, the message behind this threat was understood. The next morning Sir James looked out towards the French encampment. They were already arrayed in three lines of battle. The Dukes of Orléans led the army and were flanked on either side by cavalry. There was a flutter of silver and blue as the French mustered under the fleur-di-lis flags. Now the English were gathered, and in just the way King Henry and his men had discussed. Three columns stretched out, two with men-at-arms and the third was populated by archers. But still, the bulk of available archers hid among the tress. The young king cried out with great vehemence from his horse:

“If we are marked for death, we here are enough to do our country a loss!” he began as the men all looked to him for inspiration. “And if to live, the fewer men will share in the honour. God’s will! I pray thee; wish not one man more than this. By Jove, I covet not gold, nor care I who feeds at my expense. I care not if men wear my garments, for such outward things escape my desires! But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive. Wish not a man away from dear England. Rather, grant he God’s peace and proclaim it through my host! But warn he that has no stomach to this fight: let him depart; his passage shall be made. And so for convoy put crowns in that man’s purse, for we will not die in his company! He that fears death shall not hold fellowship with us.”

The army yelled and jeered as if saying they would never abandon their king. Henry continued.

“But this day, on the feast of Saint Crispian, may he that lives be remembered! May he also rise with the name of Crispian and see old age. Let him, at the feast’s vigil, strip his sleeve and boast of his scars! He will say ‘these wounds I had on Crispian’s Day!’ Old men forget, yet he that lives through this conflict shall recall his feats today! Then shall our names be familiar on his mouth; the names from those brothers of the king, Lancaster, Bedford, York, Exeter, Warwick, Talbot, Salisbury, Gloucester, and Colchester!”

With each named city a contingent of men cheered and clamored.

“With their flowing cups of wine and ale may these men be remembered. The good man will teach his son of today, and Crispian’s Day shall never go unheard. For he that sheds blood with me shall be my brother! And the gentlemen in England, now asleep, shall think themselves accursed for being absent today. They will be ashamed of their manhood when hearing speak of those who fought on Saint Crispian’s Day!”

The king turned to face the French army and thrust his sword forward even as his enemies charged through the slopping mud. Then the archers there amongst the English king and his knights let loose their arrows and the battle of Agincourt began.

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