Chapter 6
Hand ouer head pell mell vpon them ronne, If you will proue the Masters of the day, Ferrers and Greystock haue so brauely done, That I enuie their glory, and dare say, From all the English, they the Gole haue woone; Either let's share, or they'll beare all away. This spoke, his Ax about his head he flings, And hasts away, as though his heeles had winges.
[Stanza 205]
The Incitation of this youthfull Knight, Besides amends for their Retrayte to make, Doth re-enforce their courage, with their might: A second Charge with speed to vndertake; Neuer before were they so mad to fight, When valiant Fanhope thus the Lords bespake, Suffolke and Oxford as braue Earles you be, Once more beare vp with Willoughby and me.
[Stanza 206]
Why now, me think'st I heare braue Fanhope speake, Quoth noble Oxford, thou hast thy desire: These words of thine shall yan Battalion breake: And for my selfe I neuer will retire, Vntill our Teene vpon the French we wreake: Or in this our last enterprise expire: This spoke, their Gauntlets each doth other giue, And to the Charge as fast as they could driue.
[Stanza 207]
That slaughter seem'd to haue but stay'd for breath, To make the horrour to ensue the more: With hands besmear'd with blood, when meager Death Looketh more grisly then he did before: So that each body seem'd but as a sheath To put their swords in, to the Hilts in gore: As though that instant were the end of all, To fell the French, or by the French to fall.
[Stanza 208: _A Simily of the apparance of the Battell._]
Looke how you see a field of standing Corne, When some strong winde in Summer haps to blowe, At the full height, and ready to be shorne, Rising in waues, how it doth come and goe Forward and backward, so the crowds are borne, Or as the Edie turneth in the flowe: And aboue all the Bills and Axes play, As doe the Attoms in the Sunny ray.
[Stanza 209]
Now with mayne blowes their Armours are vnbras'd, And as the French before the English fled, With their browne Bills their recreant backs they baste, And from their shoulders their faint Armes doe shred, One with a gleaue neere cut off by the waste, Another runnes to ground with halfe a head: Another stumbling falleth in his flight, Wanting a legge, and on his face doth light.
[Stanza 210]
The Dukes who found their force thus ouerthrowne, And those fewe left them ready still to route, Hauing great skill, and no lesse courage showne; Yet of their safeties much began to doubt, For hauing fewe about them of their owne, And by the English so impal'd about, Saw that to some one they themselues must yeeld, Or else abide the fury of the field.
[Stanza 211: _The Duke of Burbon and Orleance taken prisoners._]
They put themselues on those victorious Lords, Who led the Vanguard with so good successe, Bespeaking them with honourable words, Themselues their prisoners freely and confesse, Who by the strength of their commanding swords, Could hardly saue them from the slaught'ring presse, By Suffolks ayde till they away were sent, Who with a Guard conuay'd them to his Tent.
[Stanza 212]
When as their Souldiers to eschew the sack, Gainst their owne Battell bearing in their flight, By their owne French are strongly beaten back: Lest they their Ranks, should haue disord'red quight, So that those men at Armes goe all to wrack Twixt their owne friends, and those with whom they fight, Wherein disorder and destruction seem'd To striue, which should the powerfullest be deem'd.
[Stanza 213: _Called of some Guiscard the Daulphine of Aragon._]
And whilst the Daulphine of Auerney cryes, Stay men at Armes, let Fortune doe her worst, And let that Villaine from the field that flyes By Babes yet to be borne, be euer curst: All vnder heauen that we can hope for, lyes On this dayes battell, let me be the first That turn'd yee back vpon your desperate Foes, To saue our Honours, though our lyues we lose.
[Stanza 214]
To whom comes in the Earle of Ewe, which long Had in the Battaile ranged here and there, A thousand Bills, a thousand Bowes among, And had seene many spectakles of feare, And finding yet the Daulphins spirit so strong, By that which he had chanst from him to heare, Vpon the shoulder claps him, Prince quoth he, Since I mast fall, o let me fall with thee.
[Stanza 215]
Scarse had he spoke, but th'English them inclose, And like to Mastiues fircely on them flew, Who with like Courage strongly them oppose, When the Lord Beamont, who their Armings knewe, Their present perill to braue Suffolke shewes, Quoth hee, Lo where Dauerny are and Ewe, In this small time, who since the Field begun, Haue done as much, as can by men be done.
[Stanza 216]
Now slaughter cease me, if I doe not greeue, Two so braue Spirits should be vntimely slaine, Lies there no way (my Lord) them to releeue, And for their Ransomes two such to retaine: Quoth Suffolke, come weele hazad their repreeue, And share our Fortunes, in they goe amaine, And with such danger through the presse they wade, As of their liues but small account they made.
[Stanza 217: _The Daulphin of Auerney slaine._]
[_The Earle of Ewe taken prisoner._]
Yet ere they through the clustred Crouds could get, Oft downe on those, trod there to death that lay, The valient Daulphin had discharg'd his debt, Then whom no man had brauelier seru'd that day. The Earle of Ewe, and wondrous hard beset: Had left all hope of life to scape away: Till noble Beamont and braue Suffolke came, And as their prisoner seas'd him by his name.
[Stanza 218]
Now the mayne Battaile of the French came on, The Vanward vanquisht, quite the Field doth flye, And other helpes besides this, haue they none: But that their hopes doe on their mayne relye, And therefore now it standeth them vpon, To fight it brauely, or else yeeld, or dye: For the fierce English charge so home and sore, As in their hands Ioues thunderbolts they bore.
[Stanza 219: _The Duke of Yorke slaine._]
The Duke of Yorke, who since the fight begun, Still in the top of all his Troopes was seene, And things wellneere beyond beleefe had done, Which of his Fortune, made him ouerweene, Himselfe so farre into the maine doth runne, So that the French which quickly got betweene Him and his succours, that great Chiefetaine slue, Who brauely fought whilest any breath he drew.
[Stanza 220: _The King heareth of the Duke of Yorks death._]
The newes soone brought to this Couragious King, Orespred his face with a distempred Fire, Though making little shew of any thing, Yet to the full his eyes exprest his Ire, More then before the Frenchmen menacing; And hee was heard thus softly to respire: Well, of thy blood reuenged will I bee, Or ere one houre be past Ile follow thee.
[Stanza 221: _The Kings resolution._]
When as the frolike Caualry of France, That in the head of the maine Battaile came, Perceiu'd the King of England to aduance, To Charge in person; It doth them inflame, Each one well hoping it might be his chance To sease vpon him, which was all their ayme, Then with the brauest of the English mett, Themselues that there before the King had sett.
[Stanza 222: _The bloody scuffle betweene the French and English, at the Ioyning of the two mayne Battailes, in fiue Stanzas._]
When the Earle of Cornewal with vnusuall force, Encounters Grandpre (next that came to hand) In Strength his equall, blow for blow they scorce, Weelding their Axes as they had beene wands, Till the Earle tumbles Grandpre from his Horse Ouer whom straight the Count Salines stands, And lendeth Cornwal such a blow withall, Ouer the Crupper that he makes him fall.
[Stanza 223]
Cornwal recouers, for his Armes were good, And to Salines maketh vp againe, Who changde such boysterous buffets, that the blood, Doth through the Ioints of their strong Armour straine, Till Count Salines sunck downe where he stood, Blamount who sees the Count Salines slaine, Straight copes with Cornwal beaten out of breath Till Kent comes in, and rescues him from death.
[Stanza 224]
Kent vpon Blamount furiously doth flye, Who at the Earle with no lesse courage struck, And one the other with such knocks they plye, That eithers Axe in th'others Helmet stuck; Whilst they are wrastling, crossing thigh with thigh; Their Axes pykes, which soonest out should pluck: They, fall to ground like in their Casks to smother, With their clutcht Gauntlets cuffing one another.
[Stanza 225: _Called Cluet of Brabant._]
Couragious Cluet grieued at the sight Of his friend Blamounts vnexpected fall, Makes in to lend him all the ayde he might; Whose comming seem'd the stout Lord Scales to call, Betwixt whom then began a mortall fight, When instantly fell in Sir Phillip Hall, Gainst him goes Roussy, in then Louell ran, Whom next Count Moruyle chuseth as his man.
[Stanza 226]
Their Curates are vnriuetted with blowes, With horrid wounds their breasts and faces slasht; There drops a cheeke, and there falls off a nose: And in ones face his fellowes braines are dasht; Yet still the Better with the English goes; The earth of France with her owne blood is washt; They fall so fast, she scarse affords them roome, That one mans Trunke becomes anothers Toombe.
[Stanza 227: _The Earle of Suffolke chargeth the Earle of Huntingdon With breach of promise._]
When Suffolk chargeth Huntingdon with sloth, Ouer himselfe too wary to haue bin, And had neglected his fast plighted troth Vpon the Field, the Battaile to begin, That where the one was, there they would be both; When the stout Earle of Huntingdon, to win Trust with his friends; doth this himselfe enlarge To this great Earle who dares him thus to charge.
[Stanza 228]
My Lord (quoth he) it is not that I feare, More then your selfe, that so I haue not gone; But that I haue beene forced to be neare The King, whose person I attend vpon, And that I doubt not but to make appeare Now, if occasion shall but call me on, Looke round about my Lord, if you can see, Some braue aduenture worthy you and me.
[Stanza 229: _A desperate attempt by the Earle of Huntingdon._]
See yan proud Banner, of the Duke of Barres, Me thinkst it wafts vs, and I heare it say, Wher's that couragious Englishman that darres, Aduenture, but to carry me away, This were a thing, now worthy of our warres; I'st true, quoth Suffolke, by this blessed day, On, and weele haue it, sayst thou so indeed, Quoth Huntingdon, then Fortune be our speed.
[Stanza 230]
And through the Ranckes then rushing in their pride, They make a Lane; about them so they lay, Foote goes with foote, and side is ioynde to side, They strike downe all that stand within their way, And to direct them, haue no other guide, But as they see the multitude to sway; And as they passe, the French as to defie, Saint George for England and the King they cry.
[Stanza 231: _One braue exploit begetteth another._]
By their examples, each braue English blood, Vpon the Frenchmen for their Ensignes runne, Thick there as trees within a well-growne wood; Where great Atchiements instantly were done, Against them toughly whilst that Nation stood, But o what man his destinie can shunne That Noble Suffolke there is ouerthrowne, When he much valour sundry wayes hath showne.
[Stanza 232: _The Earle of Suffolke slaine._]
Which the proud English further doth prouoke, Who to destruction bodily were bent, That the maine Battaile instantly they broke, Vpon the French so furiously they went And not an English but doth scorne a stroake, If to the ground it not a Frenchman sent, Who weake with wounds, their weapons from them threw, With which the English fearefully them slue.
[Stanza 233: _The English kill the French with their owne weapons._]
Alanzon backe vpon the Reareward borne, By those vnarm'd that from the English fled, All further hopes then vtterly forlorne, His Noble heart in his full Bosome bled; What Fate, quoth he, our ouerthrowe hath sworne, Must France a Prisoner be to England led, Well, if she be so, yet Ile let her see, She beares my Carkasse with her, and not me.
[Stanza 234]
And puts his Horse vpon his full Careere, When with the courage of a valiant Knight (As one that knew not, or forgot to feare) He tow'rds King Henry maketh in the fight, And all before him as he downe doth beare, Vpon the Duke of Glocester doth light: Which on the youthfull Chiualry doth bring, Scarse two Pykes length that came before the King.
[Stanza 235: _The Duke of Glocester ouerthrowne by the Duke of Alanzon._]
Their Staues both strongly riuetted with steele, At the first stroke each other they astound, That as they staggering from each other reele; The Duke of Gloster falleth to the ground: When as Alanzon round about doth wheele, Thinking to lend him his last deadly wound: In comes the King his Brothers life to saue And to this braue Duke, a fresh on-set gaue.
[Stanza 236]
When as themselues like Thunderbolts they shot, One at the other, and the Lightning brake Out of their Helmets, and againe was not, E'r of their strokes, the eare a sound could take Betwixt them two, the Conflict grew so hot, Which those about them so amaz'd doth make, That they stood still as wondring at the sight, And quite forgot that they themselues must fight.
[Stanza 237: _The King of England in danger to be slaine, by the Duke of Alanzon._]
Vpon the King Alanzon prest so sore, That with a stroke (as he was wondrous strong) He cleft the Crowne that on his Helme he wore, And tore his Plume that to his heeles it hong: Then with a second brus'd his Helme before, That it his forehead pittifully wroong: As some that sawe it certainly had thought, The King therewith had to the ground beene brought.
[Stanza 238: _Alanzon beaten downe by the King of England._]
But Henry soone Alanzons Ire to quit, (As now his valour lay vpon the Rack) Vpon the face the Duke so strongly hit, As in his Saddle layde him on his back, And once perceiuing that he had him split, Follow'd his blowes, redoubling thwack on thwack: Till he had lost his Stirups, and his head Hung where his Horse was like thereon to tread.
[Stanza 239: _The King killeth two Gentlemen that aduenture to rescue the Duke._]
When soone two other seconding their Lord, His kind Companions in this glorious prize, Hoping againe the Duke to haue restor'd, If to his feet his Armes would let him rise: On the Kings Helme their height of fury scor'd; Who like a Dragon fiercely on them flies, And on his body slew them both, whilst he Recouering was their ayde againe to be.
[Stanza 240]
The King thus made the Master of the Fight: The Duke calls to him as he there doth lye: Henry I'le pay my Ransome, doe me right: I am the Duke Alanzon; it is I. The King to saue him putting all his might, Yet the rude Souldiers, with their showt and crie, Quite drown'd his voyce, his Helmet being shut, And, that braue Duke into small peeces cut.
[Stanza 241: _The Duke of Alanzon slaine._]
Report once spred, through the distracted Host, Of their prime hope, the Duke Alanzon slayne: That flower of France, on whom they trusted most: They found their valour was but then in vayne: Like men their hearts that vtterly had lost, Who slowly fled before, now ranne amayne. Nor could a man be found, but that dispaires Seeing the Fate both of themselues and theirs.
[Stanza 242: _The Duke Neuers taken prisoner._]
The Duke Neuers, now in this sad retreat, By Dauid Gam and Morisby persude, (Who throughly chaf'd, neere melted into sweat, And with French blood their Poleaxes imbrud) They sease vpon him following the defeate, Amongst the faint, and fearefull multitude; When a contention fell betweene them twaine, To whom the Duke should rightfully pertaine.
[Stanza 243: _Morisby and Gam at contention for the Duke of Neuers._]
I must confesse thou hadst him first in chase, Quoth Morrisby; but lefts him in the throng, Then put I on; quoth Gam, hast thou the face, Insulting Knight, to offer me this wrong; Quoth Morrisby, who shall decide the case, Let him confesse to whom he doth belong; Let him (quoth Gam) but if't be not to me, For any right you haue, he may goe free.
[Stanza 244: _Morisby a braue young Knight._]
[_Dauid Gam oft mentioned in this Poem._]
With that couragious Morrisby grew hot, Were not said he his Ransome worth a pin, Now by these Armes I weare thou gett'st him not: Or if thou do'st, thou shalt him hardly win; Gam whose Welch blood could hardly brooke this blot, To bend his Axe vpon him doth begin: He his at him, till the Lord Beamount came Their rash attempt, and wisely thus doth blame.
[Stanza 245]
Are not the French twice trebl'd to our power, And fighting still, nay, doubtfull yet the day: Thinke you not these vs fast enough deuoure: But that your braues the Army must dismay: If ought but good befell vs in this howre: This be you sure your lyues for it must pay: Then first the end of this dayes Battaile see, And then decide whose prisoner he shall be.
[Stanza 246: _The Duke of Excester cometh in with the Reare._]
Now Excester with his vntaynted Reare Came on, which long had labour'd to come in: And with the Kings mayne Battell vp doth beare; Who still kept off, till the last houre had bin: He cryes and clamours eu'ry way doth heare: But yet he knew not which the day should win: Nor askes of any what were fit to doe, But where the French were thick'st, he falleth to.
[Stanza 247]
The Earle of Vandom certainly that thought, The English fury somewhat had beene stayde: Weary with slaughter as men ouer-wrought, Nor had beene spurr'd on by a second ayde: For his owne safety, then more fiercely fought, Hoping the tempest somewhat had been layde: And he thereby (though suff'ring the defeate,) Might keep his Reareward whole in his Retreate.
[Stanza 248]
On whom the Duke of Excester then fell, Reare with the Reare now for their Valours vy, Ours finde the French their lyues will dearely sell; And th'English meane as dearely them to buy: The English follow, should they runne through hell, And through the same the French must, if they flye, When too't they goe, deciding it with blowes, With th'one side now, then with th'other't goes.
[Stanza 249]
But the sterne English with such luck and might, (As though the Fates had sworne to take their parts) Vpon the French preuailing in the Fight, With doubled hands, and with re-doubled harts, The more in perill still the more in plight, Gainst them whom Fortune miserably thwarts: Disabled quite before the Foe to stand, But fall like grasse before the Mowers hand.
[Stanza 250: _The Earle of Vandome slaine._]
That this French Earle is beaten on the Field, His fighting Souldiers round about him slaine; And when himselfe a Prisoner he would yeeld, And beg'd for life, it was but all in vaine; Their Bills the English doe so easely weeld To kill the French, as though it were no paine; For this to them was their auspicious day, The more the English fight, the more they may.
[Stanza 251]
When now the Marshall Boucequalt, which long Had through the Battaile waded eu'ry way, Oft hazarded the murther'd Troupes among, Encouraging them to abide the day: Finding the Army that he thought so strong, Before the English faintly to dismay, Brings on the wings which of the rest remain'd, With which the Battaile stoutly he maintain'd.
[Stanza 252: _Sir Thomas Erpingham getteth in with his three hundred Archers._]
Till olde Sir Thomas Erpingham at last, With those three hundred Archers commeth in, Which layd in ambush not three houres yet past; Had the Defeat of the French Army bin, With these that noble Souldier maketh hast, Lest other from him should the honour win: Who as before now stretch their well-wax'd strings, At the French Horse then comming in the wings.
[Stanza 253]
The soyle with slaughter eu'ry where they load, Whilst the French stoutly to the English stood, The drops from eithers emptied veynes that flow'd, Where it was lately firme had made a flood: But heau'n that day to the braue English ow'd; The Sunne that rose in water, set in blood: Nothing but horrour to be look'd for there, And the stout Marshall vainely doth but feare.
[Stanza 254: _The Marshall of France slaine._]
His Horse sore wounded whilst he went aside, To take another still that doth attend, A shaft which some too-lucky hand doth guide, Peircing his Gorget brought him to his end; Which when the proud Lord Falkonbridge espide, Thinking from thence to beare away his friend, Strucke from his Horse, with many a mortall wound, Is by the English nayled to the ground.
[Stanza 255]
The Marshalls death so much doth them affright, That downe their weapons instantly they lay, And better yet to fit them for their flight, Their weightier Armes, they wholly cast away, Their hearts so heauy, makes their heeles so light, That there was no intreating them to stay, Ore hedge and ditch distractedly they take, And happiest he, that greatest haste could make.
[Stanza 256: _Count Vadamount._]
[_The Duke of Brabant a most couragious Prince._]
When Vadamount now in the Conflict mett, With valient Brabant, whose high valour showne That day, did many a blunted Courage whett, Else long before that from the Field had flowne, Quoth Vadamount, see how we are besett, To death like to be troden by our owne, My Lord of Brabant, what is to be done? See how the French before the English runne.
[Stanza 257: _A bitter exclamation of the Duke of Brabant against the French._]
Why, let them runne and neuer turne the head, Quoth the braue Duke, vntill their hatefull breath Forsake their Bodies, and so farre haue fled, That France be not disparadg'd by their death: Who trusts to Cowards ne'r is better sped, Be he accurst, with such that holdeth faith, Slaughter consume the Recreants as they flye, Branded with shame, so basely may they dye.
[Stanza 258]
Ignoble French, your fainting Cowardize craues The dreadfull curse of your owne Mother earth, Hardning her breast, not to allow you graues, Be she so much ashamed of your birth; May he be curst that one of you but saues, And be in France hereafter such a dearth Of Courage, that men from their wits it feare, A Drumme, or Trumpet when they hap to heare.
[Stanza 259: _Anthony Duke of Brabant, sonne to the Duke of Burgundy._]
From Burgundy brought I the force I had, To fight for them, that ten from one doe flye; It splits my breast, O that I could be mad; To vexe these Slaues who would not dare to dye: In all this Army is there not a Lad, Th'ignoble French for Cowards that dare crye: If scarse one found, then let me be that one, The English Army that oppos'd alone.
[Stanza 260: _The valiant Duke of Brabant slaine._]
This said, he puts his Horse vpon his speed, And in, like lightning on the English flewe: Where many a Mothers sonne he made to bleed, Whilst him with much astonishment they viewe: Where hauing acted many a Knight-like deed, Him and his Horse they all to peeces hewe: Yet he that day more lasting glory wan, Except Alanzon then did any man.
[Stanza 261: _Many of the French in their flight get into an old Fort._]