We Few, We Happy Few, We Band of Brothers

599 years ago today, the English Army under Henry V inflicted one of the greatest defeats against the French in  history.  A starving, rag-tag group of Englishmen who had been on the run for over two week, clashed with the French near the little village of Agincourt.  The over confident French were rested well fed and three times their number.  At the end of the fighting the flower of French nobility lay dead in a muddy wheat field.  8,500 Frenchmen lay dead, more than 2,000 more than were in the entire English Army.  

A short excerpt from Chapter 24 of my young reader's novel, "The Archer's Son" in honor of the victory at Agincourt.

"Keep your heads, lads, and nock a bodkin," William called out. "There is Lord Erpingham. Now we will provoke the French into moving." The old knight strode quickly out in the field in front of the line where all could see him. He tossed a baton high in the air to draw the attention of all the archers.

"Now strike!" The old knight bellowed at the top of his lungs.

In unison, five thousand archers muscled bow cords to their ears and launched arrows high in the air toward the French lines. It was a long shot, so the high-arching arrows took several seconds to ascend before they started their deadly fall to earth. Hedyn could see a faint shadow that drifted across the wheat field created by the mass of five thousand feathered missiles. Like a great flock of starlings, he thought. 

Before the first arrows began to thud into men and horses and to clang against armor, the archers were sending more arrows on their way, each man shooting at his own pace. Within a minute, 60,000 arrows were in the air or scattered across the battlefield. Some in dirt, some in men.

The arrow storm had its intended effect. Trumpets sounded, drums thumped, and the French line finally came to life. 

"We are in for it now, lads," William said to no one in particular. 

Mounted knights appeared on each side of the French formation, as the main line of armored men on foot began to move forward. The heavy armor and thick mud made them seem slow and clumsy. 

"Put your arrows on the cavalry, lads. They will try to break our archers on the flanks," the ventenar instructed. "Help our mates on the flanks. Broadheads into horse flesh. If a horse goes down, the knight will go too." Hedyn hated to see the horses killed, but he knew that the highly trained animals were as much a weapon as the lances and swords that each of the knights pointed at his comrades.
From where he stood near the center of the line, Hedyn watched in awe as the French cavalry thundered toward the English flanks on either side of him. The air behind each of the big coursers filled with clods as pounding hoofs splattered the black mud. 

The archers did not falter behind their wooden stakes but poured the bodkins and broadhead arrows into the mass of horses and men. Some began to fall as arrows found chinks in armor or were embedded in screaming horses. Some slowed and galloped back as it became too perilous near the archers and their stakes. A few stalwarts made it to the line of bowmen and discovered that the horses slowed or stopped, refusing to gallop into the protective barricade of stakes. These men were pulled from their mounts and killed by swarms of angry archers. 

One man, a great nobleman in the finest armor, tumbled from his horse headlong as the animal impaled itself on a stake. Even from where Hedyn stood, the splash of red blood stood out on the bleak, muddy field. The man never had a chance to rise from his fall, killed where he lay.

"I knew these stakes were a good scheme the minute King Henry had us cut 'em back in Corbie!" Denzel said, almost as confidently as if he had devised the idea himself. The men rolled their eyes and laughed at him. He smiled sheepishly.

Panicked war-horses, some rider-less, crashed back through the oncoming French line, sending men-at-arms tumbling and scattering to make way. The line slowed, but regrouped and slogged on through the mud.

The French line began to change. It became bunched and irregular. The French knights instinctively crowded to the center to avoid the deadly arrows streaming from the English flanks. The archers stood behind their stakes and shot as fast as arrows could be nocked. The visibility of King Henry's banners at the center of the line reinforced this movement toward the center. The French knights were not disciplined enough to remain where the battle plan required. The line slowly transformed into a blunt wedge, which only presented more targets to the busy archers. 

"Shoot, shoot! Pour it on, lads! Pour it on!" William screamed in a voice that Hedyn had never heard before. It seemed a mixture of terror, excitement, and merriment, almost like the voice of a boy involved in some risky prank. The arrows at the men's feet were long gone, and now each man shot the arrows in the extra bundles that Hedyn delivered before the fight. One hundred and twenty thousand arrows were gone, and still the French came."

An English Archer as he might have looked just prior
to the Battle of Agincourt in 1415.

William Shakespeare immortalized the great victory at Agincourt in his play, "Henry V."   Shakespeare's version of King Henry's speech before the battle has become one of his most famous scenes.  In my opinion, the version delivered by Kenneth Branagh in a movie by the same name in 1989, is the most moving.  You can see the speech here on Youtube:    

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A-yZNMWFqvM

Know Ye Not Agincourt?

Agincourt, Agincourt!

Know ye not Agincourt?

Never to be forgot

Or known to no men?

Where English cloth-yard arrows

Kill'd the French like tame sparrows,

Slaine by our bowmen

                                              Bowman's Glory. c. 1600

 

Until the year 1415, October 25th was known only for the Feast of Saint Crispin and Saint Crispinian.  The significance of those saints was lost among most, because every day was a feast day for one saint or another.  After 1415, the day would be celebrated as the greatest victory in English history.  In France it was mourned as the day that the flower of French nobility was lost on the killing fields of Agincourt. 

 Many histories of the Battle of Agincourt have been written, indeed the writing started almost as the battle closed.  It is one of the best documented medieval battles.  I won't try to recount the struggle here but will provide a very brief synopsis so the reader can understand the significance of the English victory and the extent of the devastation to the elite of French nobility.

 After a long and bitter siege of the port town of Harfleur, King Henry V of England marched his Army overland from Harfleur to Calais on the northern coast of France.  It should have been an eight day march.  Rations and supplies for only eight days were taken by the 1,000 men-at-arms and 5,000 archers of Henry's little army.  Two days from Calais his men were blocked from crossing the River Somme.  With his food supply running out he was forced to turn east, away from Calais to find an unprotected crossing point on the river.  Each bridge and ford were blocked by the enemy.  Finally the English, already four days overdue in Calais and long out of food were able to find a unguarded ford on the Somme.  A foot race on the Calais Road ensued between the weary, starving English army and a French force of almost 30,000 men. 

 The French outpaced the English and blocked the Calais Road near a little village called Agincourt.  In the battle on October 25th, Henry V's bedraggled men crushed the French Army and killed almost 8,000 French men-at-arms and knights, more men than in the entire English army.  English casualties were estimated to be only a few hundred.  Much of the victory can be attributed to the English archers and their deadly long bows.  Most who were there that day felt that only divine providence could have provided such an complete and lopsided victory. 

 My newest book, The Archer's Son, tells the story of a lad who goes along with a company of Cornish archers on the Agincourt Campaign.  The story follows the retinue of Sir John Trelawny from the Cornish village of Altarnon, to the Siege of Harfleur in France, the march to Calais and the Battle of Agincourt.  The experiences of this young boy change him forever.  Not just from the horrors of combat, but from the lasting brotherhood-of-arms that all soldiers, in all eras, develop with the men with which they serve. 

 Here is a snippet from Chapter 23 at the opening of the Battle of Agincourt:

"Keep your heads lads and nock a bodkin," William called out.  "There is Lord Erpingham.  Now we will provoke the French into moving."  The old knight strode quickly out in the field in front of the line where all could see him.  He tossed a baton high in the air to draw the attention of all the archers. 

"Now strike!"  The old knight bellowed at the top of his lungs.

In unison, five thousand archers muscled bow cords to their ears and launched arrows high in the air towards the French lines.  It was a long shot, so the high arching arrows took several seconds to ascend before they started their deadly fall to earth.  Hedyn could see a faint shadow that drifted across the wheat field created by the mass of five thousand feathered missiles.  Like a great flock of starlings, he thought. 

Before the first arrows began to thud into men and horses and to clang against armor, the archers were sending more arrows on their way, each man shooting at his own pace.  Within a minute 60,000 arrows were in the air or scattered across the battlefield.  Some in dirt, some in men.

 

Thirteen year old Hedyn, my protagonist, survives the battle.  But Agincourt is forever with him.  Our modern soldier's plague of post traumatic stress syndrome (PTSD) is not a new phenomena.  It has tormented soldiers since there have been wars.  We have only now began to understand and diagnosis it.  From the Epilogue to The Archer's Son comes this passage:

            For many months after his return, Hedyn seldom smiled or shared mirth with family or friends.  He somehow thought that happiness was disloyal to the grief that he felt for Roger, and Lawrence and other lost friends who were in lonely, anonymous graves at Harfleur.  Only through prayer did his sadness finally subside.  Christ brought him the understanding that his duty was to the living, and not to the dead.

            But he never shook the demons that came to him in his sleep.  Each night was a dreamy torment of charging black nights, clouds of arrows, blood and lifeless bodies.  Only his bride knew of his suffering.  The ivory handle dagger remained hidden under his sleeping matt.  It seemed the only thing to bring him at least a tiny bit of refuge from his dread of the night.  Even as an old man, fifty years after Agincourt, the dreams sometimes came to torture him. . .

            In later life, small boys would sometimes shyly approach the gray haired old man and ask, "Hedyn Archerson, you were there?  You were with Henry at Agincourt?"  They would puff themselves up and try to appear older as they clutched their little bows. 

            He would sigh and respond, "Aye.  I was there.  I was at Agincourt."  But he told only stories that made him laugh or made him happy or brought him pride.  He told no tales that brought him sadness. 

 

The Archer's Son will go to the editor in November and be released in mid 2014. 



The Author dressed as an English Archer at the time of Agincourt.  These photos were taken at "Days of Knights" a medieval living history program.  They will be used to help develop art work for The Archer's Son. Photos by the Author and Scott Lyndon.



A fully armored knight as they would have appeared at Agincourt.  The armor of the English and French was essentially the same.  The colorful surcoats gave the identity (and nationality) of the knight.



A young page assists his lord in donning his armor



An archer takes aim with his longbow

 

The Bodkin and the Prince

I have always had a deep interest in medieval history.  English medieval to be more exact.  During the last few years I have done a great deal of research on the material culture of the era to help me in writing, The Archer's Son.  This is a middle grade story about a young boy who is part of a company of archers during King Henry V's 1415 campaign into France during the Hundred Years War.  Of course, the novel will climax at the bloody battle of Agincourt.  I'm almost finished with the first draft :)



Most of Henry's portraits are profiles from his
left side. Was he hiding a ghastly scar?

Henry's providential success at Agincourt against overwhelming French odds, and his later campaigns in France, have overshadowed an earlier chapter of his life.  Life, that is what Prince Hal almost lost on 21 July, 1403 at the battle of Shrewsbury England.
I'll not go into the details of the revolt of the Hotspur Percy.  You can read more about it here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Shrewsbury

Henry, or Prince Hal as he was often called before he became king, was a warrior at heart.  At the age of 16 he commanded an entire wing of his father's army when it brought battle to the Percy's at Shrewsbury in 1403.  The teenage prince was an agressive commander and performed well on the field of battle.   As the fight raged in close quarters, an enemy arrow struck the young prince in the face next to his nose and lodged six inches deep into bone and muscle.  The wooden shaft was wrenched free, either by Henry himself or one of his retainers. 





An exhibit from the Shrewsbury Museum
Courtesy Nicky Hughes

Remarkably, Prince Hal fought on until the victory was secured, with a one ounce iron arrowhead lodged deep in his head!

The victory did not end the threat to Henry's life.  As his wound began to fester, the heir to the throne and the fate of the English Crown was in jeopardy.   The prince was taken to Kenilworth Castle as his condition worsened.  Eventually, London doctor John Bradmore arrived to care for the heir to the throne.  Although Bradmore may have been stranded in an era of medical ignorance and superstition regarding the treatment of illnesses, he understood the intricacies of treating wounds.  Bradmore's account of treating this wound survives in his medical tract Philomena.

". . . struck by an arrow next to his nose on the left side during the battle of Shrewsbury. The which arrow entered at an angle (ex traverso), and after the arrow shaft was extracted, the head of the aforesaid arrow remained in the furthermost part of the bone of the skull for the depth of six inches."

Bradmore devised a instrument for extracting the arrow head.

"First, I made small probes from the pith of an elder, well dried and well stitched in purified linen [made to] the length of the wound. These probes were infused with rose honey. And after that, I made larger and longer probes, and so I continued to always enlarge these probes until I had the width and depth of the wound as I wished it. And after the wound was as enlarged and deep enough so that, by my reckoning, the probes reached the bottom of the wound, I prepared anew some little tongs, small and hollow, and with the width of an arrow. A screw ran through the middle of the tongs, whose ends were well rounded both on the inside and outside, and even the end of the screw, which was entered into the middle, was well rounded overall in the way of a screw, so that it should grip better and more strongly."

The design of medieval arrowheads made extraction more difficult. They have an open "socket" where the wooden shaft is inserted.  Bradmore's device couldn't just grab the arrow head, it had to be inserted into the socket and expanded to properly grip it.

A recreation of Bradmore's device

It is believed that the iron arrow head came to rest to one side of the spine just under the base of the skull.  There was no anesthesia as we know it.  The pain that the teenage prince experience during the extraction process must have been horrendous.  After preparing the wound channel over the course of a day, Bradmore successfully removed the arrow head.  The prince survived to become King Henry V. 

Here is an excellent video recreation of how John Bradmore extracted the arrow head and saved the prince's life: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C8Nef1siUus

This would not have been possible, even with Bradmore's treatment, had the arrow head in question have been a broadhead instead of a bodkin.  What is the difference?  A bodkin is a narrow point designed to pierce armor.  It has no barbs.  A broadhead is wide with a large cutting surface designed to inflict maximum damage to the flesh of men and horses.  Broadheads are barbed and difficult to remove through the wound channel that they inflict

A recreated Bodkin arrowhead

A broadhead. 
The barbs make extraction almost impossible

There is some controversy as to which side of  Henry's face was hit by the arrow.  Bradmore says the left side next to the nose.  It was most certainly the left side as one is looking at the face.  Not the left side from Henry's point of view.  Later in life almost all of Henry's portraits are in profile, showing only his left side.  Could he have been hiding a ghastly scar on his right cheek?   It is also interesting that none of the film versions of Henry V, have portrayed him with a scarred cheek, a scar that he most certainly bore for the rest of his short life.

Tom Hiddleston, the most recent Henry in "The Hollow Crown" (2012). 
Like his movie predicessors, Hiddleston bears no scar.

Kenneth Branagh, in "Henry V" (1989)

 

Sir Laureance Olivier, "Henry V" (1944)