HUX 530: Agincourt

A Look at a Classic Battle

Through Three Media

By

Eric Williams

HUX-530

Essay 3

Dr. Bryan Feuer

October, 17^th, 2002

Any student of English literature has, at some point, become familiar with the works of William Shakespeare, the definitive master of English dramatic form. Further, those same students would likely become familiar with Shakespeare’s history plays like Richard II and Henry IV. Yet for many, Henry V stands off as one of the more enjoyable history plays written by Shakespeare for its depiction of King Henry as the model for all Christian Kings, the fate of the Eastcheap Five, the Battle of Agincourt and the very famous St. Crispin’s Day speech. Pomp and circumstance aside, while Shakespeare’s Henry V does retell the military campaign Henry waged against the French, there is a wealth of information about the proper battle that has been left out. By reading Shakespeare’s Henry V, watching the film version of Henry V starring Kenneth Branagh, and reading about the Battle of Agincourt in John Keegan’s The Face of Battle, the serious student of history can piece together what really transpired and gauge the relevant effectiveness of all three presentations.

Shakespeare’s Henry V, written about 1599, is a coming of age story in which we see the once madcap Prince Hal growing into maturity and respectability after having ascended to the English throne. The Church is worried that old laws will take effect that will cause them to lose the “better half of our possession…a thousand pounds by the year. This runs the bill” (I.i.94). The Church impresses on Henry to lay claim to the French throne, of which he has a right according to the Salic Law. The legal and religious right that Henry has to wage war is compounded by the arrogant gift of tennis balls to the young king by the Dauphin, the Prince of France. This gift, designed to insult Henry by his youth and vanity, provides the final impetus for war.

After waging a battle to take Harfleur, Henry’s troops are sick and enfeebled. They seek refuge at Calais but are accosted by the French army, led by the Constable, just outside of Agincourt. Fearful of the next day’s fighting and the unfavorable odds that face the English, Henry waxes poetical and intellectual – moving unknown through his host to calm fears and to understand better the mood of his camp. After a skirmish with one of his common soldiers Michael Williams, Henry sits alone and prays fervently to God, asking him to steel the hearts of his men and to not look at the sins Henry’s own father made in encompassing the crown. The next morning, all is in ready for the final battle.

It is here that Shakespeare’s craft is at its best. Act 4, Scene 2 opens with the French Constable, massing his forces and looking down over the sickly band of the English. He speaks haughtily, saying “behold yon sick and starved band….There is not work enough for all our hands…our superfluous lackeys and our peasants…(are) enough to purge this field…. A very little let us do and all is done” (IV.ii. 223-224). Shakespeare shows what slight regard the French have for their foe, outnumbering them by the thousands and the English in no condition to fight. The Constable scorns the English and prepares for the first charge after mentioning that the English have already said their prayers and are merely waiting for death (IV.ii. 226).

The English lords who mention the fearful odds mirror the desperation of the situation: “Of fighting men they have full threescore thousand. There’s five to one. Besides, they are all fresh” (IV.iii.227). The overwhelming odds are made known to the reader in two separate lines spoken by Warwick and Exeter. Shakespeare is working the feel of overwhelming odds into the reader’s psyche. This is further compounded by Warwick’s declaration that he wished there were one ten thousand of the soldiers left behind in England to come and help in this grim battle. Yet, when things seem their darkest, Shakespeare enters Henry onto the scene to utter one of the most famed inspirational speeches in history: the St. Crispin’s Day Speech. Henry wishes no other help at Agincourt and speaks with determination that they are enough to do their country’s loss and enough to share their country’s fame. Henry fires up his troops even as the French herald Montjoy comes to ask if Henry will yield and pay a ransom for the damage his forces have done on the French people and possession. Henry denies the French, saying they should “achieve me, and then sell my bones” (IV.iii.231) This is the only ransom the French will receive. With the departure of the Herald, the Duke of York petitions Henry to allow him the honor of leading the vanguard. Henry grants it and we must now to the battle fly.

The stage directions call for alarms and excursions. We can only assume how Shakespeare envisioned the battle happening, but he does offer us one important element true to warfare in Henry’s time: the taking of prisoners for ransom. In Act 4, Scene 4 the sharp-tongued but cowardly Pistol has taken a French noble prisoner. He is called Master Fer and says to Pistol that he is the master of a noble house and that a tidy ransom would be paid to Pistol in return for his life: 200 gold crowns (IV.iv.236). Pistol agrees and spares the French prisoner in favor of riches. This particular scene is for comic relief more than anything else. Pistol, along with Bardolph and Nym, are part of the Eastcheap Five, a comical gang of ne’er- do-wells that Shakespeare has used in Henry IV, used as friends and cohorts to the young Prince Hal. Pistol cannot speak French and he uses The Boy, a friend of his, to interpret the Frenchman’s tongue. Pistol continually misinterprets what Master Fer says and the audience gets a good laugh. Here we see Shakespeare catering to the needs of his audience. While the scene has little bearing on what actually occurred at Agincourt, it is used by Shakespeare to keep the play moving and also to stay somewhat true to the rules of engagement in Henry’s time.

Act 4, Scene 5 shows the routing of the French forces. Bourbon mentions the shame of their condition and Orleans makes mention of how the French are yet enough living in the field to contend with the English if only order can be achieved (IV.v.239). Act 4, Scene 6 shows Henry praising his “thrice-valiant countrymen. But all’s not done; yet keep the French the field” (IV.vi.240). Henry, with his prisoners, asks the fate of noble York and Exeter describes how valiantly York fought before being overwhelmed. Further, Exeter states that York and the Earl of Suffolk died side by side (IV.vi.241). Shakespeare describes the bravery and love English bear one another, how York did kiss the bloody gashes on Suffolk’s beard and spoke lengthy before he perished. This is also used as a dramatic device. Every death scene has to have some semblance of drama to it, especially with Shakespeare. The fact that York kisses the wounds of his countryman and speaks aloud a lengthy discourse before dying is appropriate to a drama, but is likely not what really happened. But again, Shakespeare is writing for the pleasure and entertainment of an audience, not the strict student of history and as such York’s death is appropriate. Finally an alarm sounds and Henry, in a seemingly rash action, orders the French prisoners executed because the French have rallied their scattered men.

We learn in Act 4, scene 7 that the alarm is actually two-fold. Not only are the French rallying for a possible charge, but a detachment of French apparently raided the luggage and tents of the English forces, killing all the attendant boys and looting the king’s own tent. Captain Gower mentions that it was “wherefore the King most worthily hath caused every soldier to cut his prisoner’s throat” (IV.vii.243). Gower makes us believe that Henry’s order to slay his prisoner’s was merited due to the slaughter of the English boys. He enters with his prisoners: the Duke of Bourbon and Orleans. Henry bespeaks his anger at the French and orders his herald to ride “unto the horsemen on yon hill. If they will fight with us, bid them come down, Or void the field: they do offend our sight” (IV.vii.246). Shakespeare lets us know that there is yet another division of French cavalry that has yet to ride into battle. But before the heralds can ride forth, Montjoy comes to Henry and acknowledges French defeat. Henry asks what this field is called and Montjoy answers “Agincourt” (IV.vii.248). The battle of Agincourt ends with the resolution of the conflict between Henry and Williams (at Fluellen’s expense) and the reading of the dead. Henry notes that some 10,000 French lie dead in the field, including 126 Princes, and over 8000 knights and noblemen. Henry reads off the names of the French killed of note before reading that only 29 English were killed, including York and Suffolk. One can assume this number does not include the boys murdered by the French riders earlier as the numbers should be much higher. Henry pays homage to God and leads his men to the village.

Shakespeare’s play is designed around humanizing larger-than-life figures. As a read, it could be considered quite dry. The language is difficult for the beginner, the stage directions leave much to the imagination, and the battle proper takes place in only a handful of pages. What Shakespeare accomplishes is to further establish Henry’s legend while at the same time protecting him, in some ways, from criticism. It is clearly mentioned that Henry orders the execution of the prisoners only after the boys were killed, thus protecting Henry’s reputation as a just man. Further, Shakespeare is telling the final episode of a long story that had begun with plays featuring Henry’s father and King Richard. Shakespeare is under an obligation to not only relate the story of Henry’s military campaign in France, but also to provide the eventual fate of the Eastcheap Five and others. Speaking from a critical standpoint, the drama is quite good, but as everyone knows, Shakespeare is to be staged – not read. Hence, the textual version loses a lot of its poignancy. Additionally, the tale seems to gloss over the battle itself, focusing more on the arrogance of the French, the comedy of Pistol, the lofty speech of Henry, the death of York, and the murder of the boys. The battle itself is nearly lost in vague stage directions and the obtuse speech.

One can get a much better appreciation of the battle proper by viewing the film version of Henry V, starring and directed by Kenneth Branagh. The film medium allows the enthusiast of Henry V to put faces with names and allows Branagh to stage a much more dynamic and dramatic battle. We see the fears and concern on the faces of the men prior to Henry’s Crispin's Day speech. Branagh also shows us the English preparation for battle with the driving of stakes into the ground, the kneeling and praying and kissing of the earth prior to the skirmish, and the image of Exeter dressing the line as they await the French charge. Branagh also shows the preparation of the English archers and the distribution of packs of arrows to each man. Gower awaits the signal of Henry and we see, then hear the long charge of the French cavalry. Henry’s arm drops and volley after volley of arrows flies through the air (fifteen volleys can be seen or heard during the battle), striking mounted knight, horse, or footsoldier. The English attack and the film does an admirable job of showing essentially the English massacring the French with the camera shot switching between a struggle, then the cold and damp ground, and then back again. What Branagh does here is accurately capture the biting cold, wet weather of late Fall that beset the English in their march towards Calais. The film doesn’t focus on the capturing of prisoners, Henry does not order the execution of prisoners, and the foolery of Pistol’s scene and Henry’s poor joke at the expense of Williams and Fluellen is all but omitted. Of interest is how the film makes the pitched battle move in slow motion, all sounds muted save the score and the dull thud of metal on shield. Branagh’s film serves to better dramatize the battle of Agincourt moreso than the simple text, especially when we see the grisly death of York (minus Exeter’s fanfare noted earlier) and the fall of the French Constable. The battle is seen in all its ugly realism, from the cold drizzle of the rain to the looting of the dead by Nym and Pistol to the drowning of a French soldier in a deep mud puddle by John Bates. Branagh’s camera captures some amazing shots, as when the Constable falls and is being carried out of the battle by the Dauphin and Orleans with the French herald Montjoy seated on horseback just behind them. The image conveys the desperation of the French position when the Constable utters: “Why…all our ranks are broke….Shame and eternal shame. Nothing…but shame”(Branagh). We see a weak attempt by the French to reorganize and take the field, culminated by a scene where Henry and the Dauphin cross swords. The killing of the boys plays out much the same way, the French herald announces the surrender of their army, and the scene ends with Henry carrying The Boy to the carts while Non nobis and Te deum are sung.

Branagh’s film goes a long way to correcting some of Shakespeare’s flaws. Leaving out the prisoners and their execution places Henry even more as a Christian king than produced in the play. Further, with so much more attention placed on the filming and scripting of the battle, Branagh allows his audience a more directed view of the Battle at Agincourt – capturing accurate climate conditions, visualizing the fear and concern on the faces of his men, and capturing the arrogant then shocked looks of disbelief on the faces of the French nobility. What Branagh does is offer a more humanized look at the characters by seeing and watching them. He furthers the drama by having it staged in a grand manner as Shakespeare had intended. Indeed, enacting the play carries the realism and the drama of the battle to new heights. Branagh emphasizes the horrid conditions and the hellish battle, and creates a vivid and action packed sequence to sate the thirst of any film-goer and create a gripping war epic for those who may not have ever read the play. Branagh presents the battle almost exactly as Shakespeare presents it in the text. From that standpoint, the film is excellent. However, as John Keegan will show, Shakespeare and, by association, Branagh only get the battle ‘half-right’.

Keegan’s book spells out what really happened at the Battle of Agincourt. In many ways, what happened is infinitely more entertaining than either Shakespeare or Branagh presents. The English had attacked Harfleur and were on their way to Calais when the French army cut them off just outside of Agincourt. With no alternative, the English pitched camp and wait for dawn to fight. The Battle occurred on October 25^th and was likely very cold and rainy as Branagh presents. That morning, the English took up position “about 1000 yards distant. For four hours both armies held their ground” (Keegan 83). During this four-hour stretch, the English could not break rank for any reason, not even to relieve themselves (Keegan 89). Keegan implies that the cold weather would wear on the men wearing metal armor and that heavy drinking on both sides during the period of waiting likely happened. “…it is quite probable that many soldiers in both armies went into the melee less than sober, if not indeed fighting drunk” (Keegan 114). This very credible possibility was omitted from both the play and the film. Keegan also notes that the numbers of fighting men on both sides was quite different than what Shakespeare states. Keegan considers the English forces to be more around 5000 to 6000 archers and 1000 men at arms while the French likely had about 25,000 troops including 1000 cavalry (Keegan 87). This is a far cry from the 60,000 men Shakespeare claims the French had (threescore thousand), yet Exeter’s claim of the odds being five to one is still fairly accurate.

Henry eventually grew impatient and ordered his men to close the distance between themselves and the French. Keegan notes that Sir Thomas Erpingham (included in both film and text versions) inspected the archers and dressed their line as they advanced (Keegan 89). The English line, composed of a mixture of men-at-arms and archers with a grouping of archers at each flank, marched forward some 700 yards to close to within about 300 yards of the French lines (Keegan 90). The French, meanwhile, were set up in three main lines “of which the third was mounted, as were two groups, each about 500 strong, on the flanks. The two forward lines, with a filling of crossbowmen between and some ineffectual cannon on the flanks were each, perhaps, 8000 strong, and so ranked some eight deep” (Keegan 88). These figures are noteworthy for a few reasons. First, in no place in the film or text do we see the waiting period before the 700-yard march. Second, neither play nor film implies anything but one French line (though Shakespeare does show that the French had mounted horsemen atop a hill following the killing of the boys). Thirdly, there is no mention of cannon in either medium. Keegan’s brief description livens up the scope and design of the battle tremendously over the simple descriptions in the play.

Having halted 300 feet from the French line, the English archers, “who had each been carrying a stout double-pointed wooden stake since the tenth day of the march, had now to hammer these into the ground, at an angle, calculated to catch a warhorse in the chest” (Keegan 90). Again, this is an oversight in the textual version of the battle. But, Branagh’s film clearly shows the English infantry and archers driving stout wooden stakes into the ground. Thus Branagh, at least to some degree, knows of this tactic at the true Battle of Agincourt.

Having driven their stakes, the English then began to rain arrows on their foes from very extreme bowshot. Keegan notes that no soldier was likely hurt due to the volume of armor they wore, but their horses could be injured by arrows falling at a steep angle and penetrating their flanks (Keegan 93). Four such volleys were loosed and served to goad the already surly French into an ill-conceived charge. Keegan notes that “two groups of cavalry, each five or six hundred strong…led by Clignet de Brebant and Guillaume de Saveuse, made the English archer flanks their target” (Keegan 94). The purpose of such was to overwhelm and drive the archers from the field and leave the vastly outnumbered English infantry to fight alone (Keegan 94). The archers continue to rain arrows into the advancing charge, dropping horses and riders (Keegan 95). The result: a mad dash towards the English who, just before impact, stepped back and allowed the French cavalry to charge headlong into the pointed stakes, effectively stopping the charge as quickly as it started (Keegan 96). Horses died, knights fell, archers dispatched fallen knights, and some horses, with or without riders, turned tail and fled headlong into the now advancing French second line.

Of note, the majority if this episode is unseen in either Shakespeare or Branagh tale. In Shakespeare, Henry is alerted that the French are preparing to ride with all speed on the English line. Next, we see the battle met and Pistol taking a prisoner. With Branagh, we see the English preparation of their line but no arrows are loosed to goad the French into attacking. The English let loose only after the French cavalry charge. Again, neither version is accurate to the true details and Keegan’s discussion goes to great lengths to describe what ultimately defeats the French.

Horses that turned from the fray barreled right into the French infantry, obviously disrupting the flow of their advance. The English line gave way a few feet and the archers on the flanks pinch forward, trapping the French cavalry in a horseshoe. The interruption, according to Keegan, bought some valuable time for the English forces to dispatch enemies and brace for the next wave (Keegan 97). Furthermore, the close proximity played favorably for the archers whose arrows could penetrate French armor from close quarter combat. What the archers accomplished was to further bottle up the French in the center of the English horseshoe as French knights wanted nothing to do with archers from that close of range for a myriad of reasons (pride being the most foolish (Keegan 98)). The middle of the English line continued to fall back a step at time, to “spear’s length” in order to keep the advancing infantry off balance as they picked their way past mounted knights and the heaping dead (Keegan 98-99). Here, Keegan notes the prudent thing to do for the French would be to retreat, but retreat was impossible for three reasons. “One was the English fear of quitting their solid positions…behind the archers’ stakes…the second was the French certainty of victory; the third was their enormous press of numbers” (Keegan 99). The flaw here was the advancing second line of infantry continued to press into the throng, pushing knights and footsoldiers into the death dealt by the English army. Bodies were piling up and the stakes the English had planted slowed any consistent French advance. Those at the ‘front’ were essentially pressed to their deaths by their own reinforcements. English archers, with arrow or mace, joined the fray and the slaughter was on.

This entire episode is more or less omitted by Shakespeare. We cannot fault him though as he was telling the story of the king and several subjects primarily. Further, the limitations of staging and props and the like make the staging of this type of battle impossible. Branagh cannot be faulted either for even though the course of battle in the film barely follows Keegan’s facts, Branagh is going for dramatic appeal. The one-on-one combat between the French and English plays better on the screen and to be honest, watching the French bunch up and get mowed down in a straight line might be rather boring on screen if not handled well.

At this point, the majority of the French first line were either dead or captured. Huge numbers of French were captured for ransom by the English, a truth that is accurately portrayed by Shakespeare in the Pistol and Master Fer episode, as well as Henry taking Bourbon and Orleans captive. Keegan also notes that most of the second line that had not engaged in combat were likely aware of the disaster they were marching into and turned and ran from the field (Keegan 106). The remaining episode of note is the killing of the French prisoners. Here, both Keegan and Shakespeare present the same actions for pretty much the same reason. Keegan notes that the Duke of Brabant had arrived late to the battle and inspired the French to mass some 600 cavalry for another charge (Keegan 108). While the third line threatened a charge, mounted men under the Lord of Agincourt raided the baggage park. Henry, assuming perhaps the French army had performed this deed, acted on impulse. He sensed the impending charge of the third line, the luggage boys and wounded English had been killed (with looting of the King’s tent), and he feared the ill-guarded French prisoners would take up arms and fight from the rear. The killing of the prisoners, while reprehensible to some and a colossal loss of ransom income to others, is an understandable course of action. The killing was not met with uniform compliance and Henry had to order archers to do the dirty deed (Keegan 112). In Henry’s defense, he did order the prisoners spared after the French third line withdrew. Victorious, Henry books the dead, names the battle, and marches on to Calais with a sizeable group of French prisoners.

Keegan’s text is an amazing read if one is interested in the true Battle of Agincourt. Anyone who reads Shakespeare’s Henry V and/or has seen a filmed version of the same would be wise to read Keegan as a supplement. All three serve different purposes. Shakespeare attempts to tell an epic story of a young king waging a war for respect while humanizing very rich and eclectic characters. Branagh attempts to show an epic story through character interaction, musical scores, and grand battlefield scenes designed to better visualize the Agincourt campaign and enlarge the men to heroes who took part in the struggle of an undermanned force in the face of catastrophic odds. Finally, Keegan attempts to break down an epic story into what really happened, the conditions the men on the battlefield met, and the tragic error the French made in their ill-conceived charge and the carnage that ensued. Where Shakespeare gives the stories of the men in battle and Branagh gives us the actions and faces of the men in battle, Keegan gives us the soul of the battle. The truth lies in between all three.

WORKS CITED

Henry V. Dir. Kenneth Branagh. Fox Video Company, 1991.

Keegan, John. The Face of Battle. Penguin Books, New York. 1978.

Shakespeare, William. Henry V. The Oxford Shakespeare. Ed. Gary Taylor.

Oxford University Press, Oxford. 1998.