Henry, strangely enough, was filled with a quiet confidence. He forbade any to speak of the smallness of his army. The men must not be reminded of it, he told his generals. He must imbue them with this sense of certain victory which he himself felt.
In the quiet of the night he walked about the camp. He talked with his men, without proclaiming his identity. But they knew him; and with the rain glistening on his face and soaking his cloak they were aware of some divine power within him and they forgot their fears and knew—as well as he did—that he could not fail.
The King heard mass at dawn. Then he was dressed in his cote d'armes on which were the arms of both France and England. On his basinet he wore his crown that all might know who he was when he led his men in battle. He mounted his small grey horse and summoned his men from their quarters and when they were drawn up he addressed them. He told them that their cause was just, that they would succeed with God's help and God would not deny that help to those whose cause was right. They were going to show the French that no army in the world could stand up against English bowmen. They were going in to win. This spot was called Agincourt and in years to come its name should be celebrated, because it was one which should stand beside that of Crecy and Poitiers.
Such was his conviction and so did he glow with this shining confidence which seemed imbued with a touch of divinity that his men believed him. They ceased to think of the opposing number of Frenchmen who must be fresher and doubtless better equipped than they were. They only knew that they would follow Harry of England to victory.
Henry himself led the main host of the army; the Duke of York was in the vanguard and the rear was commanded by Lord Camoys. Each of the archers carried a billhook, a hatchet and a hammer and a stake sharp at both ends in order to defend himself against a cavalry charge.
The French stood firm as the English advanced, and from the archers came a shower of arrows which wrought fearful havoc among the French forces. The French cavalry attempted to attack but they could not stand up against the streams of arrows and it was brought home to them that the reputation of the invincibility of English archers was well founded. The horses were unable to advance because as they approached the English held the pointed stakes before them and the French horses, maddened by the wounds they had received from the arrows, ran amok and it was quite impossible for their riders to control them.
The battle waged for three hours. A wild fury had seized the English. The manner in which the archers had repulsed the cavalry even after they had shot all their arrows seemed a miracle. They were certain that God was on their side and they knew that with His help they could not fail.
It was victory for the English archers. As at Crecy and Poitiers they were invincible.
The French losses were enormous, those of the English minimal. This resounding and miraculous success was due to the archers, but it owed a great deal to the military genius of the King.
He it was who had chosen that the battle should be fought on that spot where the French could not use all their forces but were obliged to attack in one space which considerably reduced the advantage of numbers.
So the field was won, and men were saying that never had there been a battle so glorious, never one won against such desperate odds.
The French were defeated, the English gloriously victorious and the name of Harry of England would live for ever as the greatest warrior of them all.
Coeur de Lion, two great Edwards, the Black Prince himself —Henry towered above them.
So it was back to Calais and across to England.
There his loyal subjects awaited their hero. All over the country there was rejoicing. Bonfires were lighted. Pageants were enacted; and when the King arrived in his capital city he was going to be given such a welcome as no king had ever enjoyed before.
Profligate Prince Hal had become great Harry of England.
DEATH AT LOLLARDs' GALLOWS
There was one, however, who could not rejoice wholeheartedly in the great victory, for she greatly feared what the consequences might be.
Ever since Henry had visited Joanna and implied that he expected her to influence her son to fight for the English, she had been very uneasy.
Until this time she had been content with her life in England. At first she had been very happy with Henry but when that fearful disease had grown worse and he had been so horribly disfigured her feelings towards him had begun to change. When he had died it had been a kind of release and had enabled her to settle down to a new life.
She had taken up her quarters at Havering and there had started to enjoy a life of peaceful seclusion. She had amassed great wealth and her thrifty nature, which had fitted in well with that of her husband, had delighted in the growth of her possessions. She wanted nothing changed; she was content enough to live in the shadows. The last thing she wanted was to be drawn away from her quiet luxurious life to join in any controversy and especially one with her stepson, the King.
And now Agincourt! An unprecedented and unexpected victory for Henry.
She knew that her eldest son, the Duke of Brittany, had remained uncomfortably neutral. It was the only action he could have taken, for since his wife was the daughter of the King of France his allegiance must lie with that King. It was different with Arthur. He had been created Earl of Richmond by Joanna's husband and owed his allegiance to England.
Yet he had fought with France.
That would have been a wise action ... if the French had won; and everyone had expected the French to win.
So at Havering Joanna waited in trepidation for the outcome. That Henry's attitude towards her would change, she felt certain. He would blame her for not using enough force in persuading her sons. But what could she do? It was years since she had seen them and even if she had, she would never have been able to influence them to that extent. To have supported the English would have seemed to them like suicide.
It was all very well to be wise after the event.
She was in a state of great nervousness and she sent for two men whom she kept in her household to advise her and predict the future. Petronel Brocart had come to England with her and she had found Roger Colles in Salisbury. She regarded them as her two wise men; they foretold the future and read the stars and before taking any action she always consulted them.
The household was considerably in awe of them; they lived in complete comfort for there was no one who would dare offend them for fear of bringing down their wrath and being illwished.
She sent for them and told them that she wanted to consult them; she was fearful of the future, she told them. They had not foreseen the outcome of the battle of Agincourt.
Petronel Brocart replied that he had foreseen it but had not trusted what he saw and put it down to being a dream and not true foresight. The odds were so overwhelmingly against the English that it could only have been a last minute miracle, decided on in one moment by the powers either of good or evil —it remained to be seen which.
Joanna accepted the explanation and told them that she felt herself to be ... if not in danger, in an uneasy position because of her family in France.
Brocart made sure that he was kept up to date with the latest events which often meant he was able to prophesy a certainty; he kept messengers, whom he paid handsomely, and their duty was to give him the latest information as to what was happening at the Court of Brittany.