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.]