Middle English Literature

c. 1450, Revd. edn. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Curry, A. (ed.) (2000) The Battle of Agincourt: Sources and Interpretations.
Woodbridge, Suffolk: Boydell.
Jacob, E. F. (1961) The Fifteenth Century, 1399–1485. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
Sumption, J. (1990–9) The Hundred Years War, 2 vols. Philadelphia: University of
Pennsylvania Press.
British Library MS Cotton Julius E.iv, fols. 119v–120r. In F. Taylor and J. S. Roskell (ed. and
trans.) (1975) Gesta Henrici Quinti (The Deeds of Henry the Fifth). Oxford: Clarendon Press,
86–93.
Language: Latin
Manuscript date: 1416–17
Battle of Agincourt
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48
Force and Order
And then, when the enemy were nearly ready to attack, the French cavalry
posted on the flanks made charges against those of our archers who were on
both sides of our army. But soon, by God’s will, they were forced to fall
back under showers of arrows and to flee to their rearguard, save for a very
few who, although not without losses in dead and wounded, rode through
between the archers and the woodlands, and save, too, of course, for the
many who were stopped by the stakes driven into the ground and prevented
from fleeing very far by the stinging hail of missiles shot at both horses and
riders in their flight.
And the enemy catapults, which were at the back of the men-at-arms and
on the flanks, after a first but over-hasty volley by which they did injury to
very few, withdrew for fear of our bows.
And when the men-at-arms had from each side advanced towards one
another over roughly the same distance, the flanks of both battle-lines, ours,
that is, and the enemy’s, extended into the woodlands, which were on both
sides of the armies. But the French nobility, who had previously advanced
in line abreast and had all but come to grips with us, either from fear of the
missiles, which by their very force pierced the sides and visors of their
helmets, or in order the sooner to break through our strongest points and
reach the standards, divided into three columns, attacking our line of battle
at the three places where the standards were. And in the mêlée of spears
which then followed, they hurled themselves against our men in such a
fierce charge as to force them to fall back almost a spear’s length.
And then we who have been assigned to the clerical militia and were
watching, fell upon our faces in prayer before the great mercy-seat of God,
crying out aloud in bitterness of spirit that God might even yet remember
us and the crown of England and, by the grace of his supreme bounty,
deliver us from this iron furnace and the terrible death which menaced
us. Nor was God unmindful of the multitude of prayers and supplications
being made in England, by which, as it is devoutly believed, our men soon
regained their strength and, valiantly resisting, pushed back the enemy until
they had recovered the ground that had been lost.
And then the battle raged at its fiercest, and our archers notched their
sharp-pointed arrows and loosed them into the enemy’s flanks, keeping up
the fight without pause. And when their arrows were all used up, seizing
axes, stakes and swords, and spear-heads that were lying about, they struck
down, hacked, and stabbed the enemy. For the Almighty and Merciful God,
who is ever marvellous in his works and whose will it was to deal mercifully
with us, and whom also it pleased that, under our gracious king, his own
soldier, and with that little band, the crown of England should remain

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invincible as of old, did, as soon as the lines of battle had so come to grips
and the fighting had begun, increase the strength of our men, which dire
want of food had previously weakened and wasted, took away from them
their fear, and gave them dauntless hearts. Nor, it seemed to our older men,
had Englishmen ever fallen upon their enemies more boldly and fearlessly or
with a better will.
And the same just judge, whose intention it was to strike with the thun-
derbolt of his vengeance the proud host of the enemy, turned his face away
from them and broke their strength – the bow, the shield, the sword, and
the battle.
1
Nor, in any former times, which chronicle or history records,
does it ever appear that so many of the very pick and most sturdy of
warriors had offered opposition so lacking in vigour, and so confused and
faint-hearted, or so unmanly. Indeed, fear and trembling seized them, for,
so it was said among the army, there were some of them, even of their more
nobly born, who that day surrendered themselves more than ten times.
No one, however, had time to take them prisoner, but almost all, without
distinction of person, were, as soon as they were struck down, put to death
without respite, either by those who had laid them low or by others follow-
ing after, by what secret judgement of God is not known.
God, indeed, had also smitten them with another great blow from which
there could be no recovery. For when some of them, killed when battle was
first joined, fell at the front, so great was the undisciplined violence and
pressure of the mass of men behind that the living fell on top of the dead,
and others falling on top of the living were killed as well, with the result
that, in each of the three places where the strong contingents guarding our
standards were, such a great heap grew of the slain and of those lying
crushed in between that our men climbed up those heaps, which had risen
above a man’s height, and butchered their enemies down below with swords,
axes, and other weapons.
And when at long last, after two or three hours, their vanguard had been
riddled through and through, and broken up, and the rest were being put
to flight, our men began to pull those heaps apart and to separate the living
from the dead, intending to hold them as prisoners for ransom.
But then, all at once, because of what wrathfulness on God’s part no one
knows, a shout went up that the enemy’s mounted rearguard (in incom-
parable number and still fresh) were re-establishing their position and line
of battle in order to launch an attack on us, few and weary as we were. And
immediately, regardless of distinction of person, the prisoners, save for the
1
Psalms 75.4.
Battle of Agincourt
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50
Force and Order
dukes of Orleans and Bourbon, certain other illustrious men who were in
the king’s “battle,” and a very few others, were killed by the swords either
of their captors or of others following after, lest they should involve us in
utter disaster in the fighting that would ensue.
After but a short time, however, the enemy ranks, having experienced the
bitter taste of our missiles and with our king advancing towards them, by
God’s will abandoned to us that field of blood together with their wagons
and other baggage-carts, many of these loaded with provisions and missiles,
spears, and bows.
And when, at God’s behest, the strength of that people had been thus
utterly wasted and the rigours of battled had ended, we, who had gained the
victory, came back through the masses, the mounds, and the heaps of
the slain and, seeing them, reflected (though not without grief and tears on
the part of many) upon the fact that so great a number of warriors, famous
and most valiant had only God been with them, should have sought their
own deaths in such a manner at our hands, quite contrary to any wish of
ours, and should thus have effaced and destroyed, all to no avail, the glory
and honour of their own country. And if that sight gave rise to compunc-
tion and pity in us, strangers passing by, how much more was it a cause of
grief and mourning to their own people, awaiting expectantly the warriors
of their country and then seeing them so crushed and made defenseless.
And, as I truly believe, there is not a man with heart of flesh or even of
stone who, had he seen and pondered on the horrible deaths and bitter
wounds of so many Christian men, would not have dissolved into tears,
time and again, for grief. Indeed, having previously been despoiled by English
pillagers, none of them, however illustrious or distinguished, possessed at
our departure any more covering, save only to conceal his nature, than that
with which nature had endowed him when first he saw the light.