[Footnote 133: The present reading in Monstrelet, who details these circumstances with much life and clearness, reports the word used by the English warrior to have been "Nestroque," which has been, with much probability, considered a corruption of "Now strike!" Whether the word is now read as the Author wrote it, is very questionable; many French words in Monstrelet have been mistaken and corrupted by his copyists.]

It was now approaching mid-day; when Henry, perceiving that the (p. 168) enemy would not commence the attack, but were waiting either for reinforcements, or in the hope of compelling him by want of provisions to surrender, issued the command, "Banners, advance!" His soldiers fell down instantly upon the ground prostrate, and implored the Almighty to succour them; each, as it is said, putting a morsel of earth into his mouth in remembrance of their mortality. They then rose, and advanced firmly towards the enemy, shouting, and with the sound of trumpets. The Constable of France commanded his advanced guard to meet them, who instantly obeyed, with the war-cry "Montjoye!" The battle commenced by a shower of arrows from the English, which did great execution. The French cavalry were immediately thrown into confusion, chiefly in consequence of the horses rushing on the pointed stakes which were fixed before the English archers, and, maddened with pain, turning upon their own ranks. The battle was then tremendously obstinate: at one time, the shock of the French body caused the English to give way; but it was only to rush again upon their enemies with a renewed and still more impetuous and desperate attack. Their charge, like a torrent of mighty waters, was resistless; and the archers, having exhausted their quivers, and betaking themselves (p. 169) to their swords and bills and hatchets, the slaughter among the ranks of the French was dreadful. The Duke of Alencon endeavoured in vain to rally his men, now giving way, and being worsted on every side; and, returning himself to the struggle, he fell in single combat with King Henry himself. Whilst the conflict was raging, Anthony, Duke of Brabant, came up with such of his forces as could keep pace with him in his rapid haste towards the field of battle, and instantly mingled in the thickest of the fight: he fell too; gallantly, but unsuccessfully, striving to stem the flood. The battle seemed now to be decided, when that event took place, which every one must lament, and which nothing but necessity could justify,—

THE SLAUGHTER OF THE PRISONERS AT AGINCOURT.

The name of Henry of Monmouth is inseparable from the Battle of Agincourt; and immeasurably better had it been for his fair fame had himself and his little army been crushed in that tremendous struggle, by the overwhelming chivalry of France, than that he should have stained that day of conquest and glory by an act of cruelty or vengeance. If any cause except palpable and inevitable necessity could be proved to have suggested the dreadful mandate for his soldiers to put their prisoners to the sword, his memory must be branded by a stigma which no personal courage, not a whole life devoted (p. 170) to deeds of arms, nor any unprecedented career of conquest, could obliterate. The charge of cruelty, however, like some other accusations, examined at length in these Memoirs, is of comparatively recent origin; and as in those former instances, so in this, our duty is to ascertain the facts from the best evidence, and dispassionately to draw our inference from those facts after an upright scrutiny and patient weighing of the whole question in all its bearings. Our abhorrence of the crime may well make us hesitate before we pronounce judgment against one to whose mercy and chivalrous honour his contemporaries bore willing and abundant testimony; the enormity of so dreadful an example compels us, in the name of humanity and of justice, not to screen the guilty. We may be wisely jealous of the bias and prejudice which his brilliant talents, and his life of patriotism and glory, may unconsciously communicate to our minds; we must be also upon our guard lest an excessive resolution to do justice, foster imperceptibly a morbid acquiescence in the condemnation of the accused.

The facts, then, as they are gleaned from those authors who wrote nearest to the time (two of whom, one French, the other English, were actually themselves present on the field of battle, and were eye-witnesses of some portion at least of the circumstances which they narrate,) seem to have been these, in their order and character.

At the close of one of the most desperate struggles ever recorded (p. 171) in the annals of ancient or modern warfare, whilst the enemy were in the act of quitting the field, but had not left it, the English were employing what remained of their well nigh exhausted strength in guarding their prisoners, and separating the living from the dead, who lay upon each other, heaps upon heaps, in one confused and indiscriminate mass. On a sudden a shout was raised, and reached Henry, that a fresh reinforcement[134] of the enemy in overwhelming numbers had attacked the baggage, and were advancing in battle-array against him. He was himself just released from the furious conflict in which, at the close of his almost unparalleled personal exertion, he engaged with the Duke of Alencon, and slew him on the spot. Precisely, also, at this juncture, the main body of the French who had been engaged in the battle, and were apparently retreating, were seen to be collecting in great numbers, and forming themselves into bodies, throughout the plain, with the purpose, as it appeared, of returning to the engagement.

[Footnote 134: It must be remembered that the arrival of fresh reinforcements was by no means an improbable occurrence. Anthony, Duke of Brabant, had only reached the field with his men just before the tide of battle turned finally and fatally against the French; nor could Henry possibly know what forces were yet hastening on to dispute with him for the victory afresh.]

To delay might have been the total sacrifice of himself and his gallant little band; to hesitate might have been death. Henry (p. 172) instantly, without a moment's interval, by sound of trumpet ordered his men to form themselves, and attack the body who were advancing upon his rear, and to put the prisoners to death, "lest they should rush upon his men during the fight." These mandates were obeyed.[135] The French reinforcement, advancing from the quarter where the baggage was stationed, no sooner felt a shower of arrows, and saw a body of men ready to give them battle, than they turned to flight; and instantly Henry, on seeing them run, stopped the slaughter of the prisoners, and made it known to all that he had had recourse to the measure only in self-defence. Henry, in order to prevent the recurrence of such a dreadful catastrophe, sent forthwith a herald to those companies of the enemy who were still lingering very suspiciously through the field, and charged them either to come to battle at once, or to withdraw from his sight; adding, that, should they array themselves afterwards to renew the battle, he would show no mercy, nor spare either fighting-men or prisoners.

[Footnote 135: One author alone, Jean Le Fevre, states that some of the English, who had taken the prisoners of greatest note and wealth, hesitated to execute the order, from an unwillingness to lose their ransom; and that two hundred archers were commissioned to perform the dreadful office in their stead.]

Of the general accuracy of this statement of the facts little doubt can be entertained, though in the midst of the confusion of such (p. 173) a battle-field it would not be matter of surprise were some of the circumstances mistaken or exaggerated. In reflecting on this course of incidents, the thought forces itself upon our mind, that the mandate was given, not in cool blood, nor when there was time and opportunity for deliberation and for calculating upon the means and chances of safety, but upon the instant, on a sudden unexpected renewal of the engagement from a quarter from which no danger was anticipated; at a moment, too, when, just after the heat of the battle was passing over, the routed enemy were collecting again in great numbers in various parts of the field, with a view evidently of returning to the charge and crushing their conquerors; at a moment, too, when the English were scattered about, separating the living from the dead, and all was yet confusion and uncertainty. Another fact, as clearly and distinctly recorded as the original issuing of the mandate, is, that no sooner was the danger of the immediate and inevitable sacrifice of the lives of his men removed by the retreat of the assailants, than, without waiting for the dispersion of those menacing bodies then congregating around him, Henry instantly countermanded the order, and saved the remainder of the prisoners. The bare facts of the case, from first to last, admit of no other alternative than for our judgment to pronounce it to have been altogether an imperative inevitable act of self-preservation, without the sacrifice of any life, or the suffering of any human being, (p. 174) beyond the absolute and indispensable necessity of the case.

But, perhaps, the most striking and conclusive testimony in vindication of Henry's character on that day of slaughter and victory, is borne both by the silence and also by the expressed sentiments of the contemporary historians. This evidence deserves to be put more prominently forward than it has ever yet been. Indeed, as long as there was no charge of cruelty, or unnecessary violence, brought against his name in this particular, there was little need of alleging any evidence in his defence. It remained for modern writers, after a lapse of centuries, to stigmatize the command as an act of barbarity, and to represent it as having tarnished and stained the victory of him who gave it.[136] It is, however, a most remarkable and satisfactory circumstance that, of the contemporary historians, and those who followed most closely upon them, who have detailed the proceedings (p. 175) with more or less minuteness, and with a great variety though no inconsistency of circumstances, in whose views, moreover, all subsequent writers, with few exceptions, have unreservedly acquiesced, not one single individual is found to cast the slightest imputation on Henry for injustice or cruelty; while some, in their account of the battle, have not made the most distant allusion to the circumstance. All the earlier writers who refer to it appear, with one consent, to have considered the order as the result of dire and unavoidable necessity on the part of the English King. Not only so: whilst no one who witnessed the engagement, or lived at the time, ever threw the shadow of reproach or of complaint on Henry or his army, various writers, especially among the French historians, join in reprobating the unjustifiable conduct of those among the French troops who rendered the massacre inevitable, and cast on their own countrymen the entire responsibility and blame for the whole melancholy affair. Instead of any attempt to sully and tarnish the glory won by the English on that day, by pointing to their cruel and barbarous treatment of unarmed prisoners, they visit their own people with the very strongest terms of malediction, as the sole culpable origin and cause of the evil. And that these were not only the sentiments of the writers themselves, but were participated in by their countrymen at large, is evidenced by the record of a fact which has been generally overlooked. Those who were deemed guilty of thus exposing their (p. 176) countrymen to death, by unjustifiably renewing the attack when the conflict was acknowledged to be over, and after the French soldiery had given up the field, not only were exposed to disgrace in their characters, but suffered punishment also for the offence in their persons. Anticipating censure and severe handling as the consequences of their misconduct, they made valuable presents to such as they thought able to screen them; but so decided was the indignation and resentment of their countrymen, that the leaders of the offending parties were cast into prison, and suffered a long confinement, as the punishment for their misconduct on that day.

[Footnote 136: The passage of M. Petitot, in his History, published in the year 1825, vol. vi. p. 322, which contains this accusation, is as follows: "The Duke of Alencon fought hand to hand with the King of England, and fell gloriously. Towards the end of the struggle, some hundreds of peasants of Picardy, commanded by two gentlemen of the country, believing that the English were vanquished, came to plunder their camp. Henry, fancying that he was about to be attacked by a reinforcement, whose march had been concealed from him, ordered the massacre of the prisoners, and only excepted the princes and generals. This barbarous order was put into execution, and tarnished his victory."]

The inference, then, which the facts, as they are delivered by English and French writers, compel us to draw, coincides with the professed sentiments of all contemporaries. Those, on the one hand, who shared the glory and were proud of the day of Agincourt, and those, on the other, whose national pride, and wounded honour, and participation in the calamities poured that day upon the noblest families of France, and in the mourning spread far and wide throughout the land, caused them to abhor the very name of Agincourt, all sanction our adoption of that one inference: Henry did not stain his victory by any act of cruelty. His character comes out of the investigation untarnished by a suspicion of his having wantonly shed the blood of a single fellow-creature.

To enable the reader to judge for himself how far the view taken (p. 177) in the text is justified by the evidence, the Author has thought it desirable to cite from different writers, French as well as English, the passages at length in which they describe the transaction.

The Chaplain of Henry V, an eye-witness, who was himself stationed with the baggage, and whose account is contained in the fasciculus known as "MS. Sloane, 1776, p. 67," thus reports the transaction:

"When some of the enemy's foreranks were slain, those behind pressed over the dead, and others again falling on them were immediately put to death; and near Henry's banners so large was the pile of corpses, and of those who were thrown upon them, that the English stood on heaps which exceeded a man's height, and felled their adversaries below with swords and axes. And when, at length, for the space of two or three hours, that powerful body of the first ranks had been broken through and crushed to pieces, and the rest were forced to fly, our men began to move those heaps, and to separate the living from the dead. And behold, suddenly, with what angry dispensation of Providence it is not known, (nescitur in qua ira Dei,) a shout is made that the cavalry of the enemy in an overwhelming and fresh body were rallying, and forming themselves to attack our men, few in number, and worn out with fatigue. And the captives, without any respect of persons, (except the Dukes of Orleans and Bourbon, and certain other illustrious men, and a few besides,) were put the sword, to prevent their becoming our ruin in the approaching struggle. And, after a little while, the enemy, (by the Almighty's will,) having tasted the sharpness of our arrows, and seeing that our King was approaching them, left us a field of blood, with chariots and many other carriages filled (p. 178) with provisions and weapons, lances and bows."

Jean Le Fevre, Seigneur de St. Remy, who was also an eye-witness, being present in the English camp, records the event, and his own opinion of it, thus:

"Then there befel them a very great misfortune; for a large body of the rear-guard, in which were many French, Bretons, Gascons, and others, who had betaken themselves to flight, and had with them a large number of standards and flags, showed signs of an intention to fight, and were marching in order. When the English perceived them thus congregated, orders were given by the King of England for every one to slay his prisoners; but those who had taken them were unwilling to put them to death, because they had taken those only who could give a high ransom. On the King being apprised that they would not kill their prisoners, he gave in charge to a gentleman with two hundred archers to put them all to death. The order of the King was obeyed by this esquire, which was a lamentable affair; for all that body of French nobility were in cold blood cut and hewed, head and face,—a wonderful thing to see. THAT ACCURSED BAND OF FRENCHMEN, WHO THUS CAUSED THAT NOBLE CHIVALRY TO BE MURDERED, when they saw that the English were ready to receive them and give them battle, betook themselves to flight suddenly; and those who could, saved themselves; and the greater part of those who were on horseback saved themselves, but of them who were on foot the greater part were put to death."

Elmham thus records the transaction:—

"The English, already wearied, and for the most part destitute of arms fit for a charge, when the French were arraying themselves for battle with a view to the renewal of the conflict, fearing lest the persons they had taken should rush upon them in the struggle, slew many of them, though noble, with the sword. (p. 179) The King then, by a herald, commanded those French soldiers who were still occupying the field either to come to battle at once, or speedily to depart out of his sight; assuring them that, if they should again array themselves for a renewed engagement, both they and the prisoners yet remaining should perish without mercy, with the most dire vengeance which the English could inflict."

Fabyan's account differs from that of other writers only in one particular; he represents the retirement of the French, who had rallied for a renewal of the conflict, to have been the result of the message sent to them by the Duke of Orleans and his fellow-prisoners, in their panic on hearing Henry's mandate, which seemed to put their lives into immediate jeopardy.

"When the King, by power and grace of God more than by force of man, had gotten this triumphant victory, and returned his people from the chase of his enemies, tidings were brought to him that a new host of Frenchmen were coming towards him. Wherefore he commanded his people to be embattled; and, that done, made proclamation through the host that every man should slay his prisoners: by reason of which proclamation the Duke of Orleans, and the other lords of France, were in such fear, that anon, by the licence of the King, they sent such word unto the said host that they withdrew."

The contemporary author whose work is translated by Laboureur, having in impassioned language spoken of the "eternal reproach, and ever deplorable calamity of the miserable battle of Agincourt," instead of attempting to make the English partake in any degree of the disgrace which on that day stained the annals of France, tells us that Henry, believing a great body of the vanguard, who had been broken through, were running, not in flight, but to join the rest of the army (p. 180) and renew the attack, gave orders for all the prisoners to be put to the sword; and the carnage lasted till it was known they were actually running away. He then stopped it; and explained that his orders were given in doubt of the enemy's intentions.—This writer seems to have been mistaken in his view of the circumstances; but the thought of Henry having acted unjustifiably does not seem to have crossed his mind.

Monstrelet's account is somewhat different from the two last, and more full in its details:

"During the heat of the combat the English made several prisoners; and then came news to the King of England that the French were attacking them from the rear, and that they had already taken his sumpter-horses and baggage. This was true; for Robinet de Bournonville and Rifflart de Clamasse, Ysambert d'Azencourt, and some other men-at-arms, accompanied by six hundred peasants, went to plunder the baggage, and carried off a great quantity of the property of the camp, and a large number of horses, whilst those who were their guards were engaged in the battle. This pillage caused the King great trouble, for he saw also at the same time in the open field those French who had taken to flight rallying themselves in companies; and he doubted whether their intention was not to renew the engagement. He therefore caused a proclamation to be made by sound of trumpet, that every Englishman should on pain of death[137] slay his prisoners, to prevent their succouring their own people in the time of need; and then, on the sudden, followed a very great carnage of French prisoners. For which proceeding, Robinet de Bournonville and Ysambart d'Azencourt were afterwards (p. 181) punished and imprisoned a long time by order of John Duke of Burgundy, notwithstanding they had given to Philip Earl of Charolois, his son, an exceedingly valuable sword, studded with precious stones and jewels, belonging to the King of England, which they had found and taken with the other booty, that the Earl might interest himself for them should any trouble overtake them in consequence of this circumstance."

Des Ursins represents the catastrophe to have been occasioned by the news spread through the field that the Duke of Brittany was arrived with a powerful reinforcement, on which the French rallied. He gives, however, two accounts; in one of which he reports the prisoners taken by the English to be fourteen thousand, a number exceeding the whole body of fighting men in the English army.

Paradin de Cuyseault, in his Annals of Burgundy, marks very strongly in how serious a light the offence of the French assailants was viewed by their contemporaries:

"And this [the order for the slaughter of the prisoners] was executed, of which the said Bournonville and Azencourt were the cause: and they being accused of this charge before the Duke of Burgundy, his will was that they should suffer death: but the Earl of Charolois saved them, in return for the beautiful sword."

Pierre de Fenin, a contemporary esquire, and a clerk of the household to Charles VI, employs expressions very pointedly exculpatory of the English; he does not speak of Henry's mandate at all:

"Whilst the battle between the English and French was yet pending and going on, and the English had already almost gained the mastery, Isambert d'Azencourt, and Robinet de Bournonville, accompanied by some men-at-arms of little note, made an assault on the baggage of the English, and caused a great [affray] (p. 182) terror. When the English saw that it was the French who were coming upon them to attack them, in that necessity they felt themselves obliged to put to death many whom they had already made prisoners; for which the two persons above mentioned were afterwards made the objects of severe execration, and were also punished for the offence by the Duke of Burgundy."[138]

[Footnote 137: In the printed copies of Monstrelet the reading is "de la hart," a mistake, it is presumed, for mort. Many such errors occur in his work.]

[Footnote 138: The Author is compelled to express his regret that some of our own modern writers (among others Goldsmith and Mackintosh) have been led to take a different estimate of the character of this transaction. Whether their judgments were formed after a careful weighing of the several accounts furnished by contemporary authors and eye-witnesses of the conflict, or whether they allowed their feelings of philanthropy, and their abhorrence of cruelty, to dictate their sentence in this case, the Author cannot refer to their works without appealing from them to the facts as they stand in those undisputed records which were accessible alike to them and to ourselves. On this subject Rapin, Carte, Holinshed, Nicolas, with others, may be consulted.]

Among the many instances of heroism which occurred during the battle, Henry's conduct was particularly distinguished. He fought on foot like a lion, as our annalists express themselves, and was throughout the noblest example of valour. Especially was his gallant rescue of his brother, the Duke of Gloucester, remembered with admiration. That prince had been wounded by a dagger, and thrown on the ground by the Duke of Alencon and his soldiers, when Henry rushed between them, and defended his brother till he was removed from the conflict. This noble deed nearly cost him his life; for, stooping down to raise his brother, the Duke of Alencon, or one of his men, struck him such a blow as (p. 183) to break off a part of his crown.

The loss on both sides has been very variously reported. Probably of the French not less than ten thousand fell in that field of blood;[139] of the English perhaps less than one-tenth of that number. But France did not on that day reckon her loss by the number of the slain; the chief of her chivalry[140] and nobility fell there. (p. 184) On the English side the only men of note who were slain in the battle were the Duke of York, the Earl of Suffolk, Sir Richard Keghley, Thomas Fitz-Henry, John de Peniton, and David Gamme.[141]

[Footnote 139: It is quite impossible to reconcile the different accounts of the loss on the part of the English. Walsingham speaks of thirty only having fallen; De Fenin reports them to have been four or five hundred; whilst Monstrelet raises the number to sixteen hundred.

On the part of the French, Le Fevre says, that from a hundred to six score princes fell, and about seven or eight thousand of noble blood. In the Annales Ecclesiastici of Baronius, continued by Raynaldus, the statement of Theodoric Niemius is quoted, who says (unquestionably without authority) that Henry advanced from Harfleur with sixty thousand men, besides two thousand in attendance on the carriages. He affirms that the French had one hundred thousand men; among whom were one thousand Italians, commanded by Buligard, who had long governed Genoa in favour of the French. He says, moreover, that more than five thousand five hundred French nobles were slain; and fifteen hundred taken prisoners, and carried to England.]

[Footnote 140: Hume, with his usual inaccuracy, asserts that the French army at Agincourt was headed as well by the Dauphin, as by all the other princes of the blood. The Dauphin wished to assist his countrymen, when they resolved to intercept the invaders; but, as we are expressly told by Le Fevre (c. 59), was not suffered to join the rendezvous. This is not the only mistake into which Hume has fallen in his account of this battle. In one paragraph he reports Henry to have been under the necessity of marching by land from Harfleur to Calais, in order to reach a place of safety from which he might transport his soldiers back to England; in another paragraph he represents him (with the same temerity which had been evinced by his predecessors before the battles of Poictiers and of Cressy) to have ventured without any object of moment, and merely for the sake of plunder, so far into the enemy's country as to leave himself no retreat. He tells us, moreover, that "Henry was master of fourteen thousand prisoners," whom he afterwards says that the King "carried with him to Paris, thence to England." Hume took this also without inquiry. Walsingham says, "Henry took (as they say—ut ferunt,—as though even that estimate required to be supported by common report,) seven hundred prisoners;" and of his prisoners, how many soever they were, he transported (as Des Ursins tells us) only the most considerable to England, dismissing the rest under promise to bring their ransom to him in the field of Lendi, on the feast of St. John in the summer, and, if he were not there, they should be discharged of the debt.]

[Footnote 141: Of this gallant Welshman, the following account is taken from the Appendix of the "Battle of Agincourt." "Dr. Meyrick (now Sir Samuel) says, Davydd Gam, i.e. Squint-eyed David, was a native of Brecknockshire, and, holding his land of the honour of Hereford, was a strenuous supporter of the Lancastrian interests. He was the son of Llewellyn, descended from Einion Sais, who possessed a handsome property in the parishes of Garthbrengy and Llanddeu. In consequence of an affray in the high street of Brecknock, in which he unfortunately killed his kinsman, he was compelled to fly into England to avoid a threatened prosecution, and became the implacable enemy of Owain Glyndowr, whom he attempted to assassinate. Gam, it may be supposed, was his nick-name, as he called himself David Llewellyn; and there are good grounds for supposing that Shakspeare has caricatured him in Captain Fluellin. His descendants, however, conceiving that his prowess more than redeemed his natural defect, took the name of Game. Sir Walter Raleigh has an eulogium upon his bravery and exploits on the field of Agincourt, in which he compares him to Hannibal. He was knighted on the field with his two companions in glory and death, Sir Roger Vaughan, of Bedwardine in Herefordshire, and Sir Walter, or rather Watkin Llwyd, of the lordship of Brecknock. Sir Roger had married Gwladis, the daughter of Sir David Gamme, who survived him, and became the wife of another hero of Agincourt, Sir William Thomas of Raglan; and Sir Watkin was by his marriage related to Sir Roger."

The Author gives this passage as he finds it, without having attempted to verify the statement as to David Gamme's descent or history. Certainly the testimony which Sir Samuel Meyrick makes Sir Walter Raleigh bear to his "bravery and exploits on the field of Agincourt," cannot be fairly extracted from Sir Walter's own words: "But if Hannibal himself had been sent forth by Mago to view the Romans, he could not have returned with a more gallant report in his mouth than Captain Gamme made unto King Henry the Fifth, saying, 'That of the Frenchmen there were enow to be killed, enow to be taken prisoners, and enow to run away!'" We have no doubt of Captain Gamme's gallant bearing at Agincourt; but Raleigh refers to nothing beyond his report of the numbers of the enemy.—Raleigh, book v. sect. 8.]

The last-mentioned person is that David Gamme who was ransomed (p. 185) from Owyn Glendowr, and who is reported to have replied, when questioned as to the number of the enemy, "My liege, there are enough to be slain, enough to be taken prisoners, and enough to run away!" This gallant speech of David Gamme immediately before the battle, (p. 186) has been delivered down from father to son among his Cambrian compatriots with feelings of exultation and pride. A circumstance of a very opposite character and tendency (which has never, it is believed, hitherto appeared in our histories,) must not be suppressed here. Among those who swelled the enormous host which on that day gave battle to the King of England, were found natives of his own Principality. During the dreadful devastations caused by Owyn Glyndowr, great numbers left their mansions and estates a prey to his fury, and saved themselves from personal violence by taking refuge in England, or beyond the seas. Many, too, of those who had made themselves notorious as Owyn's partisans, fled from Wales when his cause began to falter, and avoided the penalty of perseverance in their rebellion, or the humiliating alternative of submission to one whom they deemed a tyrant and usurper. Quitting their native soil in the enjoyment of health and strength, not a few of these inhabitants of the Principality enlisted under the standard of foreign powers; especially (as it is reasonable to conclude) of the King of France, who had espoused the cause for which they were expatriated. How large or how small a number of Welshmen fell in the ranks of the French on that day, or how many escaped, we have no means of ascertaining. Our attention is drawn to the subject by the record of a fact too (p. 187) specific, and too well authenticated, to be doubted or evaded.[142] William Gwyn of Llanstephan, was in the army of the enemy on the field of Agincourt, and his corpse was found among the slain. His castle of Llanstephan was in consequence forfeited to the crown, and was granted to the King's brother, Humphrey Duke of Gloucester.

[Footnote 142: The fact is recorded in the Patent Rolls, P. 2, 3 Hen. V.]

* * * * *

Being left master of the field, Henry withdrew his army a few paces, and addressed them in a speech very characteristic of his mind. After thanking them for their services, he bade them consider his success as undoubted proof of the justice of his cause; and directed them not to pride themselves on the event, but to give the glory to God. Henry then called to him Montjoye, the principal herald of France, and demanded of him to whom the victory belonged; who replied, that it was to the King of England. He then asked the name of the neighbouring castle; and, being informed that it was Agincourt, "Then," said he, "this shall for ever be called

"THE BATTLE OF AGINCOURT."[143]

[Footnote 143: The spot from which the battle of Agincourt took its name has been confounded with a place named Azincourt, near the town of Bouchain in French Flanders. On the position of the real field of battle, and its present condition, the Author has much satisfaction in making the following extract from a paper read before the Royal Society of Literature, April 4, 1827, by John Gordon Smith, M.D. who had visited and examined the spot under circumstances of peculiar interest:

"Perhaps I may be pardoned for relating that I had the honour to receive a Waterloo medal on the field of Azincour, or rather, that I had the fortune to belong to one of the British regiments that signalized themselves in the campaign of 1815, and which afterwards was invested with the above-mentioned mark of their sovereign's approbation on the very spot which, nearly four hundred years before, was the scene of the scarcely less glorious triumph of Harry the Fifth of England. In 1816 a portion of the British army was cantoned in the immediate neighbourhood of this celebrated field, and the corps in which I then served made use of it during several months as their ordinary drill-ground.... We amused ourselves with reconnoitring excursions, comparing the actual state of the localities with authentic accounts of the transactions of 1415. The changes that have taken place have been singularly few, and an attentive explorer would be able to trace with considerable accuracy the greater part of the route pursued by the English army in their retreat out of Normandy towards Calais. The field of Azincour remains sufficiently in statu quo to render every account of the battle perfectly intelligible; nor are those wanting near the spot, whose traditionary information enables them to heighten the interest with oral description, accompanied by a sort of ocular demonstration.

"Those who travel to Paris by way of St. Omer and Abbeville, pass over the field of the battle, which skirts the high road to the left, about sixteen miles beyond St. Omer; two on the Paris side of a considerable village or bourg named Fruges; about eight north of the fortified town of Hesdin; and thirty from Abbeville. All accounts of the battle mention the hamlet of Ruisseauville, through which very place the high road to Paris now passes.

"Azincour is a commune or parish consisting of a most uninteresting collection of farmers' residences and cottages, once however distinguished by a castle, of which nothing now remains but the foundation. The scene of the contest lies between this commune and the adjoining one of Tramecour, in a wood belonging to which latter the King concealed those archers whose prowess and vigour contributed so eminently to the glorious result. Part of the wood still remains; though, if I remember rightly, at the time of our visit, the corner into which the bowmen were thrown had been materially thinned, if, indeed, the original timber had not been entirely cut down, and its place been scantily supplied by brush or underwood. Some of the trees, however, in the wood of Tramecour were very old in 1816.

"The road above mentioned is the great post-road; the old road, now degenerated into a mere cart-track, from Abbeville to the once celebrated city of Therouanne, passes over the scene of action, and must have been that by which the French army reached the ground before the English, who had been compelled to make a great circuit."—Vol. i. part ii. p. 57.]

Henry, naturally anxious to hasten with his troops beyond the reach of his enemies, and to arrive at Calais before they could recover (p. 188) from their present overwhelming distress, removed from his quarters, passing through the field of battle early on the next day, taking his prisoners with him. Many vague expressions occur in some writers, which might be wrested to imply wanton cruelty in the English after the battle; but no direct charge of the sort is brought against (p. 189) them; and we may reasonably hope that there was no more of human suffering than of necessity followed so tremendous a conflict: whilst all writers agree in recording and extolling the kindness, and compassion, and courtesy shown by Henry to his prisoners, especially to the Duke of Orleans; endeavouring by all means in his power to cheer and console them. Just as after the battle of Grosmont, (p. 190) when he was only seventeen years old, so now in the prime of manhood, on the field of Agincourt, we find in him the same kind and warm-hearted conqueror: "In battle a lion; but, duty appeased, in mercy a lamb!"

The army found great difficulty at Calais from the scarcity of provisions; and the prisoners, as may be supposed, were in still greater distress. The moment Henry, who was staying at Guisnes, heard of it, he ordered vessels to be procured to convey both soldiers and prisoners to England. Henry himself reached Calais[144] on the 29th of October, and was received with every demonstration of loyalty. He was met by the clergy singing Te Deum; whilst the inhabitants shouted, "Welcome the King, our Sovereign Lord!" News reached London very early, whilst the citizens were yet in bed, on Tuesday, October 29; and on that day the victory was celebrated by religious processions, in which we are told the Queen Dowager joined, though Arthur, (p. 191) Count of Richmond, her own son, was among the prisoners. On Monday, November 4, the Duke of Bedford announced the welcome news officially to parliament. Henry embarked for England on Saturday, 16th of November, and reached Dover late on the same day, though the wind had been very boisterous, and one or two of his vessels were lost. So overflowing was the joy and zeal of his subjects, that we are told they rushed into the sea, and brought him to shore in their arms. At Canterbury he was met by the archbishop and clergy: on Friday, 22nd of November, he slept at Eltham. The next day he was met, about ten o'clock, at Blackheath, by the Mayor and all the civic authorities of London, dressed in their most splendid robes, and accompanied by not less than twenty thousand citizens on horseback.

[Footnote 144: Before his departure from Calais, a dispute arose between him and two noblemen, who had been taken prisoners at Harfleur, and set at liberty on condition of surrendering themselves at Calais. The merits of the case cannot now be known. The one, De Gaucourt, brought an action against the representatives of the other, after his death, and after the death of Henry, to recover what he paid for that other's [D'Estouteville's] ransom. To give a colouring to his case, he charges Henry with refusing to confirm the stipulations made by his representatives at Harfleur, and with other harsh conduct. But an ex parte statement at that time, and under those circumstances, can form no ground of suspicion against a third party.]

In London a most magnificent pageant was ready to welcome him. Minute descriptions of the various devices, such probably as England had never seen before, have come down to us. But we need take no further notice of them than to remark, that during the splendid scene, which lasted from ten o'clock till three, (in the course of which Henry humbly returned thanks both in St. Paul's and in Westminster Abbey,) the King's deportment was singularly modest. His dress was simple; he rode gravely on, attended by a small retinue; and, his thoughts apparently wrapped up in contemplating the power and goodness of (p. 192) the Almighty, he seemed altogether indifferent to the splendour of the scenes and the devotedness of the crowds through which he passed. So anxious was he to avoid exciting the applause of his people, that he would not allow the helmet which he wore at Agincourt to be exhibited on this occasion; the battered state of which bore evidence to the danger he had encountered: nor would he allow the minstrels to compose verses, or sing songs, to his praise; but persisted in attributing the glory of his victory to God alone.

It is pleasing to trace the rewards[145] bestowed by Henry on his companions in arms at Agincourt, and the measures which he adopted to preserve their names from oblivion. With this view he doubtless caused a roll to be made recording their names; though only a transcript of one part has been yet discovered among the archives. We may hope that not many years will elapse before numbers of those most interesting documents which now lie buried in heaps of confusion will be brought to light. Henry selected to fill every vacancy in the order of the Garter, (not bestowed on sovereign princes,) the peers and distinguished commanders who fought with him at Agincourt; and when he restricted the use of coats of arms in a subsequent expedition to those who could prove their right to them, he excepts those only who bore arms with him at Agincourt. To commemorate this victory with more especial honour, he created a King-at-arms, called "Agincourt." (p. 193)

[Footnote 145: See "Battle of Agincourt."]

Our reformed views of Christian truth must not make us undervalue the testimony borne to Henry's gratitude towards his companions in arms, though they were removed by death from all earthly favours and rewards. He did for them what he could; and though we believe him to have been performing a vain office, and profitless to those whom it was intended to benefit, in the prevailing superstition of those days we see traces of the kindness and grateful spirit of the hero.[146]

[Footnote 146: Various entries occur in the Pell Rolls of money paid for masses for the souls of those who fell in these wars. Among the rest are specified (26th September 1418) Lord Grey of Codnor and Sir John Blount. Two thousand masses were ordered for the souls of Lord Talbot and another. See extracts in English, translated lately, from the Pell Rolls, by Mr. F. Devon. This work, whilst it acquaints the student with the sort of information and evidence which the Pell Rolls may supply, will in other respects assist him in his inquiries; for many valuable and interesting facts are presented to him in the volume: but, to ascertain what those documents really do contain, it is necessary (as in all other cases) to apply at the fountain-head.]

Many of the French princes taken at Agincourt remained prisoners in England for many years. The Duke of Bourbon died in confinement. The Duke of Orleans was not released for five-and-twenty years. Whilst a captive in the Tower of London, he had recourse to the solace of literature; and composed many pieces of poetry, still preserved in the British Museum, which indicate genius and cultivated taste. (p. 194)

* * * * *

How highly the people of England valued this victory is seen in very many particulars. The superstition of those times was also made to contribute to its celebrity. The victory of Agincourt was gained on the feast of the Translation of St. John of Beverley, and was ascribed to his merits. His festival had before been kept on the 7th of May; but now it was ordained to be celebrated for ever on the 25th of October. But that was the feast of Crispin and Crispianus; and so the authorities of the church decreed that all three saints should share in the offices of that day.[147]

[Footnote 147: Foed. viii. 236.]

The Archbishop declares that this ecclesiastical constitution was made in full convocation by the will, counsel, and consent of all his brothers, and also at the special instance of their most Christian King.

The document abounds to the overflow with the gross superstition of the age. It is only by recalling what that degrading superstition was, that we can estimate at their proper value the blessings of the Reformation. Of the genuineness of this document there can be no doubt. It was addressed by Henry Chicheley, Archbishop of Canterbury, to the Vicar of the Bishop of London, who was then at the council of Constance; and its preamble at least deserves a place here.

"Henry, by divine permission, Archbishop of Canterbury, (p. 195) Primate of all England, and Legate of the Apostolic see, to our beloved son the spiritual Vicar-general of our venerable brother R. by the grace of God, Bishop of London, now in foreign parts. The holy honour of the English church (whose praise and fame, in devoted veneration of God and his saints, the whole world extols above the churches of other regions and provinces,) requires that the same church shall more abound with the praises of those, and more exultingly rejoice in glad devotion to them, by whose patronage and grace of miracles she rejoices to flourish; and by whose pious intercession the state, not only of the church, but of the whole realm, together with the inward sweetness of peace and quiet, and with victory gained over foreign enemies, is defended by just rulers.

"The grace of this help, though God to the same church, and to the inhabitants of the realm of England, hath often decreed to show by the merits of divers saints, (with whom she shines gloriously on every side,) yet in these last days He has evidently deigned more miraculously and more especially to console the aforesaid church, together with the aforesaid nobles, inhabitants, and all members of the kingdom, by the especial suffrage of her (almifici) gracious confessor and bishop, the most blessed John of Beverley, as we verily believe!

"Oh! ineffable consolation, especially in our times, in every age pleasant, and ever to be called to mind; namely, the victory of our most Christian Prince, King Henry V. of England, and of his army, in the battle of Agincourt, lately fought in the parts of Picardy; which on the Feast of the Translation of the said Saint, to the honour of the divine name, and to the honour of the realm of England, from the boundless mercy of God, was granted to the English.

"On which Feast of his Translation, whilst the struggle between our countrymen and the French was being carried on, as to the hearing of us and our brethren in our last convocation, (p. 196) abundantly and especially, the true report of the inhabitants of that country brought the tidings, that from his tomb sacred oil flowed, drops falling as of sweat, indicative of the divine mercy towards his people, doubtless obtained by the merits of that most holy man.

"Wishing, therefore, in our province to spread an increase of divine worship, and especially to extol further the praise of so great a patron, with the wills, counsel, and assent of our brethren and the clergy in the said convocation, and no less at the special instance of the said most Christian Prince, we have determined that the memory of that most holy confessor everywhere throughout our province should be exalted with feelings of prayers and devotions [votivis et devotis affectibus]."

* * * * *

Then follows the decree above mentioned.

This mass of extravagant folly and blind superstition, this presumptuous sharing of God's omnipotence and sovereign might with the power of such poor erring fellow-mortals as the corrupt ministers of a corrupt church had presumptuously ranked among the inhabitants of heaven,—thus daring to forestal the judgment of Christ at the last day, and to pronounce on the glory of a man whose spiritual state Omniscience alone can know,—it is impossible to contemplate without feelings of gratitude that Heaven's mercy has released us from such perverted use of the Gospel of the Saviour; nor without a prayer that the Spirit of light and truth would guide those of our fellow-creatures who are still walking in the same land of darkness and error, into the clear light of Christian truth.

The Author, to whom the following "Song of Agincourt" has been (p. 197) familiar from his childhood, cannot refrain from inserting it here. This is that ancient, and, as it is believed, contemporary ballad, which has preserved to our times that golden stanza which appears in the title page of these volumes; and every word of which reflects the character of Henry as a hero and a merciful man. The quotation, also, from Burnet's History of Music, and the contemporary song to which he refers, will, it is presumed, be generally acceptable.

SONG OF AGINCOURT.

As our King lay on his bed, All musing at the hour of prime,[148] He bethought him of the King of France, And tribute due for so long a time.

He called unto him his lovely page, His lovely page then called he; Saying, You must go to the King in France, To the King in France right speedily.

Tell him to send me my tribute home, Ten ton of gold that is due to me; Unless he send me my tribute home, Soon in French land I will him see.

Away then goes this lovely page (p. 198) As fast, as fast as he could hie; And, when he came to the King in France, He fell all down on his bended knee.

My master greets you, sir, and says, Ten ton of gold is due to me; Unless you send me my tribute home, You in French land soon shall see me.

Your master is young, and of tender age, Not fit to come into my degree; I'll send him home some tennis-balls That with them he may learn for to play.

Away then goes this lovely page, As fast, as fast as he could hie; And, when he came to our gracious King, He fell all down on his bended knee.

What news, what news, my trusty page? What news, what news dost thou bring to me? I bring such news from the King of France, That you and he can never agree.

He says you are young, and of tender age, Not fit to come up to his degree; He has sent you home some tennis-balls, That with them you may learn for to play.

Oh! then bespoke our noble King, A solemn vow then vowed he; I'll promise him such English balls As in French land he ne'er did see.

Go! call up Cheshire and Lancashire, (p. 199) And Derby hills that are so free; BUT NEITHER MARRIED MAN, NOR WIDOW'S SON, NO WIDOW'S CURSE SHALL GO WITH ME!

They called up Cheshire and Lancashire, And Derby hills that are so free; But neither married man nor widow's son, Yet they had a right good company.

He called unto him his merry men all, And numbered them by three and three, Until their number it did amount To thirty thousand stout men and three.

Away then marched they into French land, With drums and fifes so merrily; Then out and spoke the King of France, Lo! here comes proud King Henrie!

The first that fired, it was the French, They killed our Englishmen so free; But we killed ten thousand of the French, And the rest of them they did run away.

Then marched they on to Paris gates, With drums and fifes so merrily; Oh! then bespoke the King of France, The Lord have mercy on my men and me!

Oh! I will send him his tribute home, Ten ton of gold that is due from me; And the very best flower that is in all France To the rose of England will I give free.

[Footnote 148: The second line of this song is variously read. Probably the original words are lost. The reading in the text is conjectural.]

"At the coronation of Henry V," observes Dr. Burney, "in 1413, (p. 200) we hear of no other instruments than harps;[149] but one of that prince's historians[150] tells us that their number in the hall was prodigious. Henry, however, though a successful hero and a conqueror, did not seem to take the advantage of his claim to praise; and either was so modest or so tasteless as to discourage and even prohibit the poets and musicians from celebrating his victories and singing his valiant deeds. When he entered the city of London, after the battle of Agincourt, the gates and streets were hung with tapestry, representing the history of ancient heroes; and children were placed in temporary turrets to sing verses. But Henry, disgusted at these vanities, commanded, by a formal edict, that for the future no songs should be recited by harpers, or others, in honour of the recent victory. 'Cantus de suo triumpho fieri, seu per citharistas, vel alios quoscunque, cantari, penitus prohibebat.'

[Footnote 149: Dr. Burney has here fallen into a most extraordinary mistake. In the very page to which he refers, Elmham, in his turgid manner, assures us that at Henry's coronation the tumultuous clang of so many trumpets made the heavens resound with the roar of thunder. He then describes the sweet strings of the harps soothing the souls of the guests by their soft melody; and the united music of other instruments also, by their dulcet sounds, in which no discord interrupted the harmony, inviting the royal banqueters to full enjoyment of the festival.]

[Footnote 150: Thomas de Elmham, Vit. et Gest. Hen. V. edit. Hearne, Oxon. 1727, cap. xii. p. 23.]

"It is somewhat extraordinary that, in spite of Henry's edicts and prohibitions, the only English song of so early a date, that has come to my knowledge, of which the original music has been preserved, is one that was written on his victory at Agincourt in 1415. It is preserved in the Pepysian Collection, at Magdalen College, Cambridge."[151]

[Footnote 151: Burney's History of Music, vol. ii. p. 382.]

After some observations upon the general ignorance of the (p. 201) transcribers of ancient music, Dr. Burney proceeds to say, "that the copy in the Pepysian Collection is written upon vellum in Gregorian notes, and can be little less ancient than the event which it recorded;" and that there is with it a paper which shows that an attempt was made in the last century (17th) to give it a modern dress, but that too many liberties had been taken with the melody, and the drone bass, which had been set to it for the lute, is a mere jargon. He then presents what he says is a faithful copy of this venerable relic of our nation's prowess and glory.

Owre Kynge went forth to Normandy, With grace, and myght of chyvalry; The God for hym wrought marv'lusly, Wherefore Englonde may calle and cry,

CHORUS.

Deo gratias, Anglia! Redde pro Victoria!

He sette a sege, the sothe to say, To Harflue town, with royal array; That toune he wan, and made a fray That Fraunce shall rywe tyl domes-day. Deo gratias! &c.

Than, for sothe, that Knyght comely In Agincourt feld faught manly; Thorow grace of God, most myghty, He hath bothe felde and victory. Deo gratias! &c.

Then went owre Kynge, with all his oste, (p. 202) Thorowe Fraunce, for all the Frenshe boste; He spared[152] for drede of leste ne most, Till he come to Agincourt coste. Deo gratias! &c.

Ther Dukys and Earlys, Lorde and Barone, Were take and slayne, and that wel sone; And some were ledde into Lundone; With joye, and merth, and grete renone, Deo gratias! &c.

Now gracious God he save owre Kynge, His peple, and all his well wyllinge; Gef him gode lyfe, and gode endynge, That we with merth may safely synge, Deo gratias, Anglia! redde pro Victoria!

[Footnote 152: For dread neither of least nor of greatest.]



CHAPTER XXIV. (p. 203)

REASONS FOR DELAYING A SECOND CAMPAIGN. — SIGISMUND UNDERTAKES TO MEDIATE. — RECEPTION OF SIGISMUND. — FRENCH SHIPS SCOUR THE SEAS, AND LAY SIEGE TO HARFLEUR. — HENRY'S VIGOROUS MEASURES THEREUPON. — THE EMPEROR DECLARES FOR "HENRY AND HIS JUST RIGHTS." — JOINS WITH HIM IN CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL ON A DAY OF THANKSGIVING FOR VICTORY OVER THE FRENCH. — WITH HIM MEETS THE DUKE OF BURGUNDY AT CALAIS. — THE DUKE ALSO DECLARES FOR HENRY. — SECOND INVASION OF FRANCE. — SIEGE OF CAEN. — HENRY'S BULLETIN TO THE MAYOR OF LONDON. — HOSTILE MOVEMENT OF THE SCOTS.

1415-1417.

It has been made a subject of observation, and of conjecture as to its cause, that Henry did not take advantage of the next spring to prosecute his claims in France. Some[153] would have us suspect that it was "to show that personal honour had been his leading object, that he remained at home nearly two years afterwards without any military movement." But a much more intelligible and palpable cause (p. 204) offers itself to the mind on the slightest reflection upon the circumstances in which he was placed.[154] He had not the means ready for invading France. His forces were diminished by a number of men appallingly great, in proportion to the body with which he had landed at Harfleur; and his treasury was exhausted. For his first expedition he had borrowed the utmost which his subjects and friends either would or could supply; and the grants made to him by his parliament had been anticipated even to carry on the former campaign. That it was his intention, however, when he left France after the victory of Agincourt, to return to that country in the following spring, seems clear from the circumstance that, on dismissing his less illustrious prisoners at Calais, he bound them on their words to bring their ransoms to him on the field of Lendi, at the feast of St. John in the summer; with this voluntary proviso, that, if they did not find him there, they should be free from all obligation to him.

[Footnote 153: Mr. Turner.]

[Footnote 154: Another view might be taken of the cause of this delay on the part of Henry. Perhaps he was acting prudently by allowing time for his enemies to weaken each other, and to exhaust their resources by the insatiable demands of civil warfare. Meanwhile, he was not himself idle.]

In the mean time, a most influential mediator between the two kingdoms appeared, the intervention of whom would, even under other circumstances, have rendered delay imperative. Sigismund, Emperor (p. 205) of Germany, first visited the King of France in his capital, and then extended his journey to England, with a view of bringing about a peace, though all his efforts proved unavailing.

On his approach towards England, the utmost pains seem to have been taken to make his reception worthy of his high dignity and of the English people. The orders of council are very minute and interesting;[155] and the arrival of Sigismund seems to have occupied the time and thoughts of the whole nation. The Earl of Warwick was then Captain of Calais, whose character for gallantry and courteous bearing was so distinguished on this, as on all other occasions, that he was called the Father of courtesy. The Emperor and his retinue of one thousand persons, among whom were many German and Italian princes and nobles, embarked at Calais in thirty of the King's ships, and arrived at Dover on the 29th of April 1416. Here the Duke of (p. 206) Gloucester, Constable of Dover, with many noblemen, met him; and gave him precisely that sort of reception which we should have expected from English gentlemen under the immediate direction of Henry. As the Emperor was ready to set his foot on land, they stepped into the water with their drawn swords, and told him with mingled firmness and courtesy, "that, if he came as a mediator of peace, they would receive him with all the honours due to the imperial dignity; but if as Emperor he challenged any sovereign power, they must tell him that the English nation was a free people, and their King had dependence on no monarch on earth; and they were resolved, in defence of the liberty of the people, and the rights of their King, to oppose his landing on their shores." The answer of the Emperor set them at ease on this point, and he was received with every mark of respect and honour; among other testimonies of Henry's feelings towards him, was his installation of him as a Knight of the Garter at Windsor.[156]

[Footnote 155: Lord Talbot was to be associated with the Captain of Calais to receive the Emperor in that city. At Dover, the Duke of Gloucester, with the Lords Salisbury, Furnival, and Haryngton, were to welcome him to the English shores; at Rochester, the Constable and Marshal of England, the Earl of Oxford, and others; at Dartford, the Duke of Clarence, with the Earls of March and Huntingdon, Lord Grey of Ruthing, Lord Abergavenny, and others, were to meet him. At Blackheath, the Lord Mayor, Aldermen, and good people of London were to await his arrival; whilst Henry himself was to receive Sigismund between Deptford and Southwark, at a place called St. Thomas Watering.—"Privy Council," April 1416, Pour la venue de l'Empereur.]

[Footnote 156: The Archbishop of Canterbury commanded all his suffragans to take especial care that prayers be offered in all congregations for the good estate of Sigismund.—Rymer's Foed. 1416.]

It is impossible not to contrast the conduct of our countrymen on this occasion and the behaviour of Sigismund, with his conduct in France, and the readiness with which that conduct, however humiliating, was submitted to. Sigismund was received with much ceremony and (p. 207) magnificence at Paris; but, before he left it, he had surprised and disgusted the King by exercising an act of sovereignty in the very house of parliament. By courtesy he was seated on the chair usually occupied by the King himself. A trial was proceeding, the result of which seemed to turn on the knighthood of one of the litigants. The Emperor called for a sword, and knighted the individual forthwith.

Whilst Sigismund was anxiously engaged in endeavouring to bring the two nations to terms of peace, news arrived of an event which must have made his efforts and mediation appear hopeless. The French had fallen upon part of the garrison of Harfleur, and cut off a considerable body of them. Not long after this, and whilst negociations were pending between London and Paris, with a more favourable appearance of a successful issue, tidings came that the French fleet had scoured the Channel, had blockaded Southampton, and had made various attempts on the Isle of Wight; that the Constable, D'Armagnac, had recalled them, and they were then besieging Harfleur. Henry and his council resolved on making an immediate and vigorous effort to destroy that fleet; and forthwith an armament was prepared, of which Henry expressed his determination to take the command himself. At the urgent request, however, of the Emperor, he desisted from that resolution, and gave the supreme command to his brother the Duke of Bedford; who, after a most obstinate battle, gained a (p. 208) decided victory over the enemy, and relieved Harfleur.[157]

[Footnote 157: Henry was at Smalhithe in Kent (August 22), superintending the building of some ships, when news of this success reached him. He hastened to join the Emperor, who was at Canterbury, and both went to the cathedral together to return thanks for the victory. This happened a week subsequently to their signing of the league of amity mentioned below.]

The Emperor was soon convinced that his mediation must fail, and that France was resolved to renew the war. He then determined not to remain neutral, but to join himself by a solemn league with Henry. The preamble of this covenant is deeply interesting, as indicative, at least, of the professed sentiments of Sigismund with regard to the pretensions of Henry, and to the conduct and character of the two belligerent kings. Sigismund declared the object of his desire to have been the restoration of peace to the church and to Christendom; and, with that end in view, he had endeavoured to reconcile the Kings of England and France, but without success. The failure he ascribed entirely to the hatred of peace which influenced the French King, to whom he attributed also the prevalence of schism in the church, and the disturbed state of the Christian world. He then expresses his resolution "to form a league with Henry in the name of the Lord God of Hosts, and to assist him in the recovery of his JUST RIGHTS."[158] This league was signed August 15, 1416. The Emperor, shortly after (p. 209) this unlooked-for termination of his office as mediator, left England. Before he had proceeded onwards from Calais, Henry himself arrived at that town. After some days, the Duke of Burgundy also joined them; and much time was spent in secret negociations, the nature of which did not transpire, though we may suppose both the Emperor and King were anxious to make him a party to the league already concluded between themselves. A covenant, however, was signed by the Duke early in October, in which he declared that, "though he had taken part with the enemies of Henry in time past, yet now, being assured of his lawful claim, he would employ his arms in his service as the rightful King of France."

[Footnote 158: Rymer, H. V. An. iv.]

The Emperor left Calais for Germany; and Henry, having concluded a truce with France till the 2nd of February, returned to England, and met his parliament on October 19th. Much zeal was here shown in his behalf; and whilst the parliament granted two whole tenths and two whole fifteenths, to be levied on the laity, the clergy gave two tenths, to be paid by their own body. But all this was not enough; recourse was again had to borrowing, the Dukes of Clarence, Bedford, and Gloucester pledging themselves, in case of Henry's death, to the repayment of the loans. Henry pawned a valuable crown to his uncle, the Bishop of Winchester, for money to a great amount; and he pledged very valuable jewels to the Mayor of London for another large (p. 210) sum. No measure was left untried, that Henry might be prepared by the ensuing spring with men and money for the invasion of France.[159] In the meanwhile, the French princes and nobles who had been taken prisoners at Agincourt were anxiously negociating for their release. In a communication of strict confidence to the Emperor, Henry declares that all their proceedings were suspicious, and selfish, and deceitful; that he had suffered the Duke of Bourbon to return to (p. 211) France on certain conditions, but that the Emperor might be assured of his resolution to invade that country.

[Footnote 159: The various expedients to which both Henry and his father were driven to raise supplies in any way commensurate with their wants, have repeatedly reminded the Author of the similar means to which their unhappy successor Charles, in his days of far more urgent need and necessity, had recourse. The reader may perhaps be interested by the following document. It is a copy of the letter in which Charles applies to the Provost and Fellows of Oriel College for a loan of their plate. The King's letter is dated January 6th, 1642; and the society, assembled in the chapel on the 8th, vote unanimously to put their silver and gilt vessels at the disposal of their sovereign, scarcely retaining one single piece of plate. (Allocata sunt ad usum serenissimi vasa argentea et deaurata paene ad unum omnia.) The one retained is said to have been the chalice for the holy communion.

(Extracted from the Register of Oriel College.)

"To our trusty and well-beloved the Provost and Fellowes of Oriel Colledge, in our University of Oxon: Charles R.

"Trusty and well-beloved, wee greete you well. Wee are so well satisfied with your readiness and affection to our service, that wee cannot doubt but you will take all occasions to expresse the same; and as wee are ready to sell or engage any of our land, so have wee melted downe our plate for the paiment of our army, raised for our defence, and the preservation of our kingdome. And having received severall quantityes of plate from divers of our loving subjects, we have removed our mint hither to our citty of Oxford, for the coyning thereof.

"And we do hereby desire you that you will lend unto us all such plate, of what kind soever, which belongs to your colledge; promising you to see the same iustly repaid unto you after the rate of 5 s. the ounce for white, and 5 s. 6 d. for guilt plate, as soon as God shall enable us: for assure yourselves wee shall never let persons of whom wee have so great a care suffer for their affection to us, but shall take speciall order for the repaiment of what you have already lent us, according to our promise, and also of this you now lend in plate; well knowing it to bee the goods of youre colledge that you ought not to alien, though no man will doubt but in such a case you may lawfully lend to assist youre King in such visible necessity. And wee have entrusted our trusty and well-beloved Sir William Parkhurst, Knt. and Thomas Bushee, Esq. officers of our mint, or either of them, to receive the said plate from you; who, uppon weighing thereof, shall give you a receipt under theire or one of their hands for the same.

"And wee assure our selfe of your willingness to gratify us herein; since, beside the more publiche considerations, you cannot but know how much your selves are concerned in our sufferings. And wee shall ever remember this particular service to your advantage.

"Given at our Court at Oxford, the 6 day of January 1642."]

Henry's exertions were effectual; and, soon after midsummer, he found himself prepared with men and money to renew his expedition to Normandy in a fleet of fifteen hundred sail, and with an army of not less than twenty-five thousand soldiers. Before he embarked, (p. 212) however, he commissioned Holland, Earl of Huntingdon, whose father had been beheaded at Cirencester in the reign of Henry IV, with a squadron to scour the seas, and secure a free passage for the transports. The Earl was successful in a most hard-fought battle with a fleet of Genoese large ships, sent by their republic[160] to aid the French King; and on July 23rd 1417, Henry set sail for the coast of France.[161] A large body of French on the shore threatened to oppose him; but he landed his forces safely, on the 1st of August, at Beville. As soon as his people were all safe on shore, by an act characteristic of himself, he adopted the same measure which, on his former expedition, had compelled him to make his way to Calais by land. He dismissed all his ships homeward, excepting what were required for transporting cannon; thus assuring his soldiers that they must conquer or die, for they had no retreat.

[Footnote 160: In the letter from Constance, dated the preceding February, Henry was informed that the French had sent a large sum to Genoa to wage [hire] ships to fight with England.]

[Footnote 161: The Muster Roll of this expedition is preserved in the Chapter-house, Westminster, and is pronounced to be one of the most interesting records of military history now extant.—See Preface to the Norman Rolls, by T.D. Hardy, Esq.]

Henry found the country altogether deserted, the inhabitants having fled from their homes in every direction on receiving the alarming tidings of his approach. It is said that twenty-five thousand families fled into Brittany; and so complete was the evacuation in some (p. 213) districts, that there reigned through the country the stillness of death. In Lisieux, a considerable town eighteen miles from the sea, the English found but one old man and one woman. The people had secured themselves, to the utmost of their means, in fortified towns, all of which had been supplied with strong garrisons on the first news of the intended invasion.

Henry systematically caused the most strict discipline to be observed in his army, of which many proofs are recorded. Among other instances we read that when a monk complained of having been robbed by a soldier, he was desired to fix upon the guilty man. On discovering the culprit, the King upbraided him with his baseness, and pronounced him worthy of death; but, on making restitution, and promising never again to be guilty of the offence, he pardoned him. "And you, friend," said he, turning to the monk, "go back to your brethren in peace, and attend all of you to your sacred duties without fear of me or my army. I am not come hither as a thief to rob your churches and altars, but as a just and merciful King to protect you from violence." Henry then proclaimed through the army that no one should injure an ecclesiastic on pain of death.[162] It was amusing, we are told, to see how the numbers of the regular clergy were suddenly swollen; rustics (p. 214) shaving their heads, and putting on the dress of a monk, to be safe under the terms of that protection.

[Footnote 162: A long list of the clergy, and of the churches then taken by Henry under his protection, is preserved in the Norman Rolls.—Hardy's edition, p. 331.]

During this campaign Henry sent repeated bulletins of his proceedings and successes to the mayor and aldermen of London, many of the originals of which are still in existence; and which combine, with the answers to them, in bearing evidence to the popularity of Henry's person, and of the cause in which he was embarked. Some of these documents are exceedingly interesting; but it would be needless to transfer them all into these pages.[163] It is to be lamented that such indisputable records are not all published, or rendered accessible to every one who would wish to consult them. The interspersion of a few in this part of the volume may enable the reader to verify in more points than one the views which are here offered of Henry's character and the feeling of the people of England at this period. The first is a letter from Henry himself, dated August 9, 1417, at Touque, the very day of the surrender of that place, and only a week after he landed.

[Footnote 163: These letters did not come within the Author's knowledge before he had written these brief memoirs of the last years of Henry. It is very satisfactory to find them all confirmatory of his previous views. He has taken especial care to make every, the slightest, correction in his narrative, suggested by authorities from which there is no appeal.]

"Trusty and well-beloved, we greet you oftentimes well; doing (p. 215) [giving] you to understand for your comfort, that, by the grace of God, we be safely arrived into our land of Normandy, with all our subjects ordained to go with us for the first passage. And this day, the even of St. Lawrence, about mid-day, was yolden [yielded] unto us the castle of Touque, about the which our well-beloved cousin, the Earl of Huntingdon, lay; and the keys of the said castle delivered unto us without the shedding of Christian blood, or defence made by our enemies:—the which castle is an honour, and all the viscounty and lordships of Ange hold thereof, as we have been informed of such men as were therein. Whereof we thank God lowly, that hym lust [he is pleased] of high grace to show unto us so fair beginning in our present voyage; desiring also that ye thank God thereof in the most best wise that ye can, and that ye send us from time to time such tidings be komerys be thwene [by comers between], as ye have in that side the sea. Given under our signet, at our said Castle of Touque, the 9th day of August. "To the Mayor, Sheriffs, Aldermen, and good people of our City of London."—Endorsed in French.

But though Henry speaks thus encouragingly of his present campaign, he had soon much to make him anxious, and to rouse all the energies of his mind. Among other sources of solicitude was the growing evil of desertion. Many of his soldiers grew tired of the war, and, dishonourably leaving his camp, stole back to their native country. Of the prevalence of this mischief we have too clear proof in the following writ, a copy of which was despatched to all the sheriffs of England. It is found among the Norman Rolls, and is one of the (p. 216) few specimens with which Mr. Hardy has enriched the interesting introduction to his edition of those valuable documents.[164]

[Footnote 164: Norman Rolls, preserved in the Tower, edited by T.D. Hardy, Esq.]

"The King to the Sheriffs of London and Middlesex, greeting. Whereas we have received certain information and undoubted evidence that divers of our lieges who lately came with us to our kingdom of France, there as we hoped stoutly to oppose and resist the pride and malice of our enemies, have deserted us in the midst of these our enemies, and without our licence have in great multitudes falsely and traitorously withdrawn and returned to our kingdom of England, and are still daily withdrawing and returning; which, if suffered to continue, would manifestly turn, not only to the continual prejudice of us, but to the serious injury and peril of our faithful lieges accompanying us (which God avert!) We, desirous, as we are bound, to provide and ordain a fitting remedy in this matter, do command and strictly enjoin you to arrest and take into custody without delay all and each of those whom by inquiry, information, or other means whatsoever, you shall discover to have been with us in our said kingdom of France, in our company, or in that of others, and who have withdrawn themselves thence without our licence under our signet, or that of the Constable of our army, and to deliver them as soon as taken to our very dear brother, John Duke of Bedford, Guardian of England. And, upon the fealty and allegiance wherein ye are bound to us, let this by no means be neglected. Witness the King, at his castle of Caen, in his duchy of Normandy, the 29th day of September.—By the King himself."

The most important siege in this campaign was that of Caen;[165] (p. 217) at the taking of which, after a tremendous conflict and loss of life, Henry behaved towards the vanquished with so much mercy and kindness, that the governors of many neighbouring towns sent to him the keys of their gates.

[Footnote 165: Henry's own letter to the Mayor and Aldermen of London (Liber F. fol. 200), written on the 5th of September, the day after the surrender of Caen, represents the loss on the part of the English to have been very trifling. "On St. Cuthbert's day, God, of his high grace, sent unto our hands our town of Caen by assault, and with right little death of our people, whereof we thank our Saviour as lowly as we can; praying that ye do the same, and as devoutly as ye can. Certifying you also that we and our host be in good prosperity and health, thanked be God of his mercy! who have you in his holy keeping."]

So great was his success that the French court sent commissioners to him to negociate for peace, but the treaty resulted in no favourable issue; and Henry went on in his career of victory through the very depth of winter; and became master of Bayeux, Argentan, Alencon, and other places. He was engaged, however, in the siege of Falaise through the whole of December, the town not surrendering till the 2nd of January.

It was at this time that the capture and execution of Lord Cobham took place in England; of which we have written fully in a separate dissertation at the close of this volume. Henry, however, probably knew nothing of that unfortunate man's capture till he heard of his death.

Early in the preceding autumn [1417] an alarm spread through (p. 218) England in consequence of the hostile demonstration of the Scots. There seems to be some doubt as to the extent of their movements. Buchanan represents the whole affair as one of very little moment, scarcely more than a border foray; but the English chroniclers lead us to believe that it was a formidable invasion. It is said that the Lollards were the instigators; though it is more probable that the invitation was sent to Scotland from France, and especially through the Duke of Orleans, then a prisoner in Pontefract, whose liberty was consequently much straitened, as we find by an original letter of Henry himself.[166]

[Footnote 166: This letter of the King's is only a fragment, without date: who were the persons addressed does not appear; probably he wrote it to his council in 1417 or 1418. Sir Henry Ellis opens his second series of Original Letters with this of Henry V. It is found in MS. Cotton. Vesp. F. iii. fol. 5.]

"Furthermore, I would that ye commune with my brother, with the Chancellor, with my cousin of Northumberland, and my cousin of Westmorland; and that ye set a good ordinance for my north marches, and specially for the Duke of Orleans and for all the remnant of my prisoners of France, and also for the K. of Scotland. For as I am secretly informed by a man of right notable estate in this land, that there hath been a man of the Duke of Orleans in Scotland, and accorded with the Duke of Albany that this next summer he shall bring the mammet[167] of Scotland to stir what he may; and also that there should be found (p. 219) ways to the having away specially of the Duke of Orleans, and also of the K. as well as of the remnant of my said prisoners, that God do defend! [which God forbid!] Wherefore I will that the Duke of Orleans be kept still within the castle of Pomfret, without going to Robertis Place, or to any other disport; for it is better he lack his disport than we be deceived."

[Footnote 167: Probably the mammet, or mawmet, [puppet,] (a corruption, they say, of Mahomet,) of Scotland, was the pretended Richard, the deposed King, whom even now many believed to be still alive there.]

The Scots on one side laid siege to Berwick, from which they were driven by the Earl of Northumberland, Hotspur's son; the other part of the Scotch army directed their attack on Roxborough, where they were routed by the united forces of the Dukes of Exeter[168] and Bedford,[169] and the Archbishop of York. That military prelate, unable, from the weakness of age, to ride, yet caused himself to be carried to the field, that surrounded by his clergy he might encourage his people to defend their native land.

[Footnote 168: The Duke of Exeter was then governor of Harfleur, but was in England recruiting soldiers to reinforce the King's army in Normandy.]

[Footnote 169: It is curious to observe, that the Duke of Bedford is reported to have been engaged at his devotions at Bridlington in Yorkshire; and that, on hearing of the invasion, he threw away his beads, and marched with all the forces he could muster to meet the Scots. John of Bridlington seems to have been in an especial manner the patron saint of Henry IV.'s family.]

After these successful military proceedings in the north of the kingdom, parliament met on Nov. 16. They prayed for speedy judgment on rioters and malefactors; presented a petition on the subject of Sir John Oldcastle; supplicated for a reward to the Lord Powys, who (p. 220) was instrumental in seizing him; and then they voted the King a subsidy of a tenth and a fifteenth. The clergy also in convocation granted two tenths. In this convocation an attempt was made to encourage learning by promoting to benefices such as had laboured long and diligently in the Universities. This proposition was rejected in Oxford at that time; but it received the cordial promotion and assistance of the University in July 1421. On the latter occasion, however, the measure, opposed as it was most vigorously by the monks, would probably again have miscarried, had not Henry himself, "who favoured arts and loved learned men," interposed his own authority in its favour.



CHAPTER XXV. (p. 221)

HENRY'S PROGRESS IN HIS SECOND CAMPAIGN. — SIEGE OF ROUEN. — CARDINAL DES URSINS. — SUPPLIES FROM LONDON. — CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN HENRY AND THE CITIZENS. — NEGOCIATION WITH THE DAUPHIN AND WITH THE FRENCH KING. — HENRY'S IRISH AUXILIARIES. — REFLECTIONS ON IRELAND. — ITS MISERABLE CONDITION. — WISE AND STRONG MEASURES ADOPTED BY HENRY FOR ITS TRANQUILLITY. — DIVISIONS AND STRUGGLES, NOT BETWEEN ROMANISTS AND PROTESTANTS, BUT BETWEEN ENGLISH AND IRISH. — HENRY AND THE SEE OF ROME. — THRALDOM OF CHRISTENDOM. — THE DUKE OF BRITTANY DECLARES FOR HENRY. — SPANIARDS JOIN THE DAUPHIN. — EXHAUSTED STATE OF ENGLAND.

1418-1419.

Henry[170] meanwhile was making rapid progress in subduing Normandy; and to induce the inhabitants to return to their homes, which they had abandoned, he issued a proclamation promising protection and favour to all who would acknowledge his sovereignty. He also pledged himself to relieve his subjects from all injustice and oppression.

[Footnote 170: On the 12th of February 1418, an order is issued to press horses, carts, and other means of conveyance, to carry the jewels, ornaments, and other furniture of the King's chapel to Southampton.]

Whilst he was lying before the town of Louviers, the Cardinal (p. 222) des Ursins arrived in his camp with letters from the Pope, urging Henry to make peace; the Cardinal of St. Mark having been sent to the French King for the same purpose.

These offers of mediation were unavailing; and Henry, encouraged by the distracted state of France, resolved to push his conquests to the utmost; and, after some severe skirmishing at Pont de Larche,[171] he proceeded to lay siege to Rouen. Did the plan of these Memoirs admit of a fuller inquiry into the affairs of France, we might here (p. 223) with benefit review the proceedings of the different parties in that country since the field of Agincourt. The result of such a review would probably be the conviction that the divisions by which that country was distracted not only facilitated Henry's conquests, but alone admitted of them. His victories, even if they had ever been won, would scarcely have followed each other so rapidly, had the King of France, the Dauphin, and the Duke of Burgundy opposed him with united forces.

[Footnote 171: Henry's own words, in a letter, 21 July 1418, sent from Pont de Larche to the Mayor of London, are: "Since our last departing from Caen, we came before our town of Louviers, and won it by siege; to which place came to us the Cardinal of Ursin from our holy father the Pope, for to treat for the good of peace betwixt both realms, and is gone again to Paris to diligence there in this same matter; but what end it shall draw to we wot not as yet." In this letter he informs us that the attack on Pont de Larche was on the 4th of July; and that, though the enemy had "assembled in great power to resist us, yet God of his mercy showed so for us and for our right, that it was withouten the death of any man's person of ours." He adds that he had just heard of the decidedly hostile intentions of the Duke of Burgundy towards him; so "we hold him our full enemy. He is now at Paris." The King then tells them that he needs not to refer to the death of the Earl of Armagnac, and the slaughter that hath been at Paris; for he was assured that they had full knowledge thereof. He alludes to the massacre of the Armagnac faction by the partisans of the Duke of Burgundy, June 12, 1418. Two thousand persons were murdered in a very brief space of time. The mob dragged the bodies of the Constable and Chancellor through the streets (as Monstrelet tells us) for two or three days.]

The citizens of Rouen, which was well garrisoned, and had an ample store of provisions, had declared themselves for the Duke of Burgundy; but now, in their alarm, they supplicate aid from the Dauphin against the common enemy. His answer was, that he was compelled to employ his troops in defending his own towns against the Duke of Burgundy.[172]

[Footnote 172: Henry's army had received various reinforcements. One accession is recorded by an item in the Pell Rolls, of rather an interesting character, showing that both the Irish and the ecclesiastics of Ireland gave him good and acceptable proof of the interest they took in his success. It is the payment of 19l. 17s. on the 1st of July 1418, "to masters and mariners of Bristol for embarking the Prior of Kilmaynham with two hundred horsemen and three hundred foot-soldiers from Waterford in Ireland, to go to the King in France." An entry also occurs in the following October: "To the Prior of Kilmaynham coming from Ireland to Southampton, with a good company of men, to proceed to Normandy to serve the King in the wars, 100l." An order from the King to his Chancellor, the Bishop of Durham, to expedite ships from Bristol for the transport of these men from Waterford to France, is preserved among the miscellaneous records in the Tower. It is dated June 3rd, at Ber-nay; to which a postscript was added on the next day, urging the utmost expedition, as the troops were tarrying only for the means of sailing.—See Bentley's Excerpta Historica, p. 388.]

The whole English army, with a great train of artillery, came (p. 224) up before the city on the last day of July 1418, before another harvest could afford new supplies of corn. To that one town the people of Normandy had brought all their treasures; and those who were intrusted with the safekeeping of the place seemed determined to endure all the miseries of blockade and famine, rather than surrender. Henry, with the resolution not to lavish the lives of his soldiers by attempting to take this town by storm, laid close siege to it by land; whilst some "good ships," which he had from the King of Portugal, blockaded the mouth of the Seine.

Ten days after Henry laid siege to Rouen, he despatched a letter to the Mayor and Aldermen of London, which, with their answer, cannot be read without interest.

"BY THE KING.

"Right trusty and well-beloved! we greet you oft times well. And for as much as, in the name of Almighty God, and in our right, with his grace, we have laid the siege afore the city of Rouen, which is the most notable place in France, save Paris; at which siege, us nedeth [we need] greatly refreshing for us and for our host; and we have found you, our true lieges and subjects, of good will at all times to do all things that might do us worship and ease, whereof we can you right heartily thank; and pray you effectually that, in all the haste that ye may and ye will, do arm as many small vessels as ye may goodly, with victuals, (p. 225) and namely [especially] with drink, for to come to Harfleur, and from thence as far as they may up the river of Seyne to Rouen ward with the said victual, for the refreshing of us and our said host, as our trust is to you; for the which vessels there shall be ordained sufficient conduct, with God's grace. Witting well also that therein ye may do us right great pleasance, and refreshing for all our host above said; and give us cause to show therefore to you ever the better lordship in time to come, with the help of our Saviour, the which we pray that He have you in his safeward.—Given under our signet, in our host afore the said city of Rouen, the 10th day of August. "To our right trusty and well-beloved the Mayor, Aldermen, and all the worthy Commoners of our city of London."

To this appeal the authorities of the city paid immediate and hearty attention, and forwarded to Henry an answer under their common seal on the 8th of September, (the Nativity of our Lady, the blissful maid,) of which the following is a copy. A memorandum in Latin informs us that the clause within brackets was for different causes kept back, and not sent with the letters. The letter is a curious specimen of the flattering and complimentary style of the good citizens of London when addressing their sovereign.

"Our most dread, most sovereign Lord, and noblest King, to the sovereign highness of your kingly majesty, with all manner of lowness and reverence, meekly we recommend us, not only as we ought and should, but as we best can and may; with all our hearts, thanking your sovereign excellence of your gracious (p. 226) letters in making [us] gladsome in understanding, and passing comfortable in favouring our poor degrees, which ye liked late to send us from your host afore the city of Rouen. In which letters, after declaration of your most noble intent for the refreshing of your host, ye record so highly the readiness of our will and power at all times to your pleasance, and thanking us thereof so heartily, that truly, save only our prayer to Him that all good quiteth [requiteth], never was it nor might it half be deserved. And after seeing in your foresaid gracious letters ye pray us effectually to enarme as many small vessels as we may with victual, and specially with drink, for to come as far as they may in the river Seyne. And not only this, but in the conclusion of your sovereign letters foresaid, ye fed us so bounteously with the best showing of your good lordship to us in time coming as ye have ever done, that now and ever we shall be the joyfuller in this life when we remember us on so noble a grace. [O how may the simpless of poor lieges better or more clearly conceive the gracious love and favourable tendress of the King, their sovereign Lord, than to hear how your most excellent and noble person, more worth to us than all worldly riches or plenty, in so thin abundance of victual heavily disposed, so graciously and goodly declare and utter unto us, that are your liege men and subjects, your plain lust and pleasance, as it is in your said noble letters worthily contained. Certain, true liege man is there none, ne faithful subject could there non ne durst tarry or be lachesse [backward] in any wise to the effectual prayer and commandment of so sovereign and high a lord, which his noble body paineth and knightly adventureth for the right and welfare of us.] Our most dread, most sovereign Lord, and noblest King, may it please your sovereign highness to understand, how that your foresaid kingly prayer, as most strait charge and commandment, we willing in all points obey and execute anon, from the receipt of your said gracious letter, which (p. 227) was the 19th day of August nigh noon, unto the making of these simple letters. What in getting and enarming of as many small vessels as we might, doing brew both ale and beer, purveying wine and other victual, for to charge with the same vessels, we have done our busy diligence and care, as God wot. In which vessels, without [besides] great plenty of other victuals, that men of your city of London aventuren for refreshing of your host to the coasts where your sovereign presence is in, we lowly send with gladdest will unto your sovereign excellence and kingly majesty by John Credy and John Combe, your officers of your said city, bringers of these letters, tritty botes [thirty butts] of sweet wine, that is to say, ten of Tyre, ten of Romeney, ten of Malmesey, and a thousand pipes of ale, with two thousand and five hundred cups for your host to drink of, which we beseech your high excellence and noble grace for our alder comfort and gladness benignly to receive and accept; not having reward [regard] to the little head or small value of the gift itself, which is simple; but to the good will and high desire that your poor givers thereof have to the good speed, worship, and welfare of your most sovereign and excellent person, of which speed and welfare, and all your other kingly lusts [desires] and pleasances, we desire highly by the said bearers of these letters, and other whom your sovereign highness shall like, fully to be learned and informed. Our most dread, most sovereign Lord, and noblest King, we lowly beseech the King of Heaven, whose body refused not for our salvation worldly pain guiltless to endure, that ye, your gracious person, which for our alder good and profit so knightly laboureth, little or nought charging bodily ease, in all worship and honour evermore to keep and preserve.—Written at Gravesend, under the seal of Mayoralty of your said city of London, on the day of the Nativity of our Lady, the blissful maid. "To the King, our most dread and most sovereign Lord."