The Battle of Agincourt

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¶Here-after foloweth the batayll of Egyngecourte and the great sege of Rone by kynge Henry of Monmouthe the fyfthe of the name that wan Gascoyne and Gyenne and Normandye.

GOd that all this worlde dyde make

And dyed for vs vpon a tree

Saue england for mary thy mothers sake

As thou art stedfast god in trynyte

And saue kynge Henry soule I beseche the

That was full gracyouse and good with-all

A courtyouse knyght and kynge ryall

Of Henry the fyfthe noble man of warre

Thy dedes may neuer forgoten be

Of knyghthod thou were the very lodestarre

In thy tyme Englande floured in prosperyte

Thou mortall myrrour of all cheualry

Though thou be not set amonge the worthyes nyne.

Yet wast thou a conqueroure in thy tyme

Our kynge se[n]de in-to Fraunce full rathe sende] seade 1536

His harraude that was good and sure

He desyred his hertyage for to haue

That is Gascoyne and Gyen and Normandye

He bad the Dolphyne delyuer / it shulde be his

All that belongyd to the fyrst Edwarde

And yf he sayd me nay I_wys

I wyll get it with dent of swerde

But than answered the Dolphyne bolde

By our inbassatours sendynge agayne

Me-thynke that your kynge is not so olde

Warres great for to mayntayne

Grete well he sayd your comely kynge

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That is bothe gentyll and small

A tun full of tenysballes I wyll hym send

For to play hym therwithall

Than bethought our lordes all

In Fraunce they wolde no lenger abyde

They toke theyr leue bothe greate and small

[A]nd home to Englande gan they ryde And] Tnd 1536

To our kynge they tolde theyr tale to the ende

What that the Dolphyne dyde to them saye

I wyll hym thanke than sayd the kynge

By the grace of god yf I may

Yet by his owne mynde this Dolphyne bolde

To our kynge he sent agaynne hastely

And prayed hym trewes for to holde

For Iesus loue that dyed on a tree

Nay than sayd our comely kynge

For in-to Fraunce wyll I wynde

The Dolphyne angre I trust I shall

And suche a tenys-ball I shall hym sende

That shall bere downe the hye rofe of his hall

The kynge at Westmynster lay that tyme

And all his lordes euerychone

As they dyde set them downe to dyne

Lordynges he sayd by saynt Iohnn

To Fraunce I thynke to take my waye

Of good councell I you praye

What is your wyll that I shall done

Shewe me shortly without delay

The duke of Clarence answered sone

And sayd my lege I councell you soo

And other lordes sayd we thynke it for the best

With you to be redy for to goo

Whyle that our lyues may endure and lest

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Gramercy syrs the kynge gan say

Our ryght I trust than shal be wonne

And I wyll quyte you yf I may

Therfore I warne you bothe olde and yonge

To make you redy without delay

To Southampton to take your waye

At saynt Peters tyde at Lammas

For by the grace of god and yf I maye

Ouer the salte see I thynke to passe

Great ordynaunce of gunnes the kynge let make

And shypte them at London all at ones

Bowes and arowes in chestes were take

Speres and bylles / with yren gunstones

And armynge-dagars made for the nones

With swerdes and bucklers that were full sure

And harneys bryght that strokes wolde endure

The kynge to Southampton than dyde ryde

With his lordes for no lenger wolde he dwell

Fyftene .C. fayre shyppes ther dyde hym abyde

With goodly sayles and topcastell

Lordes of Fraunce our kynge they solde

For a myllyant of golde as I harde say

By Englande lytell pryse they tolde

Therfore theyr songe was welawaye

Bytwene hampton and the yle_of_wyght

These goodly shyppes lay there at rode

With mastyardes a_crosse full semely of syght

Ouer all the hauen sprede a_brode

On euery paues a crosse rede

The wastes decked with serpentynes stronge

Saynt Georges stremers spred ouer-hede

With the armes of Englande hangynge all alonge

Our kynge full hastely to his shyppe yede

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And all other lordes of euery degree

Euery shyp wayed his anker in-dede

With the tyde to hast them to the see

They hoysed theyr sayles a_lofte sayles] sayles sayled 1536

A goodly syght it was to see

The wynde was good and blew but softe

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And fourth they wente in the name of the trynyte

Theyr course they toke towarde Normandy

And passed ouer in a daye and a nyght

So in the seconde morn[i]nge yerly morninge] mornonge 1536

Of that contrye they had a syght

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And euer they drew nere the coste

Of the day glad were they all

And whan they were at the shore almost

Euery shyp his anker let fall

With theyr takyls they launched many a longe-bote

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And ouer hache threw them in-to the streame

A thousande shortly they sawe a_flote

With men-of-armes that lyth dyde seme

Our kynge landed at Cottaunses without delay

On our lady euen th'assumpcyon

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And to Hartflete they toke the way

And mustered fayre before the towne

Our kynge his banner there dyde splay

With standerdes bryght and many penowne

And there he pyght his tent adowne

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Full well broydered with armory gaye

Fyrst our comely kynges tente with the crowne

And all other lordes in good aray

My brother Clarence the kynge dyde say

The toures of the towne wyll I kepe

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With her doughters and her maydens gay

To wake the frenchemen of theyr slepe

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London he sayd shall with hym mete

And my gunnes that lyeth fayre vpon the grene

For they shall playe with Harfflete

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A game at tennys as I wene

Goo we to game for goddes grace

My chyldren be redy euerychone

For euery great gunne that there was

In his mouthe he had a stone

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The Capytayne of Herfflet soone anone

U[n]to our kynge he sent hastely

To knowe what his wyll was to done

For to cume thyther with suche a meny

Delyuer me the towne the kynge sayd

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Nay sayd the Capytayne by god and by saynt Denys

Than shall I wynne it sayd our kynge

By the grace of god and of his goodnes

Some hard tennys-balles I haue hyther brought

Of marble and yren made full rounde

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I swere by Iesu that me dere bought

They shall bete the walles to the grounde

Than sayd the greate gunne

Holde felowes we go to game

Thanked be Mary and Iesu her sone

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They dyde the frenchemen moche shame

Fyftene afore sayd London tho

Her balles full fayre she gan out throwe

Thyrty sayd the seconde gun I wyll wyn and I may

There as the wall was moost sure

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They bare it downe without nay

The kynges doughter sayd herken this playe

Harken maydens nowe this tyde

Fyue and forty we haue / it is no nay

They bete downe the walles on euery syde

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The Normandes sayde let vs not abyde

But go we in haste by one assent

Where-so-euer the gunstones do glyde

Our houses in Herfflete is all to_rent

The englysshemen our balwarkes haue brent

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And women cryed alas that euer they were borne

The frenchemen sayd now be we shent

By vs now the towne is forlorne

It is best now theyrfore

That we beseche this englysshe kynge of grace

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For to assayle vs no more

Leste he dystroye vs in this place

Than wyll we byd the Dolphyne make hym redy

Or elles this towne delyuered must be

Messengers went fourth by and by

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And to our kynge come they

The lorde Corgraunte certaynly

For he was Capytayne of the place

And Gelam_Bowser with hym dyde hye

With other lordes more and lasse

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And whan they to our kynge come were

Full lowly set them on theyr kne

Hayle comely kynge gan they saye

Cryste saue the from aduersyte

Of truse we wyll beseche the

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Untyll that it be sunday noone

And yf we may not recouered be

We wyll delyuer the towne

Than sayd our kynge full soone

I graunte you grace in this tyde

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One of you shall fourthe anone

And the remnaunt shall with me abyde

Theyr Capytayne toke his nexte waye

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And to Rone faste gan he ryde

The Dolphyne he had thought there to founde

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But he was gone he durste not abyde

For helpe the Capytayne besought that t[i]de tide] tede 1536

Herfflete is lost for euer and aye

The walles ben beten downe on euery syde

That we no lenger kepe it may

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Of counseyll all he dyde them pray

What is your wyll that I may done

We must ordeyne the kynge batayll by sonday

Or elles delyuer hym the towne

The lordes of Rone to_gyther dyde rowne

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And bad the towne shulde openly yelde

The kyng of englande fareth as a lyon

We wyll not mete with hym in the felde

The Capytayne wolde than no lenger abyde

And towarde Harfflete came he ryght

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For so faste he dyde ryde

That he was there the same nyght

And whan he to oure kynge dyde come

Lowly he set hym on his kne

Hayle comely prynce than dyde he say

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The grace of god is with the

Here haue I brought the keys all

Of Harfflete that is so royall a cytye

All is yours bothe chambre and hall

And at your wyll for to be

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Thanked be Iesu sayd our kynge

And Mary his mother truely

Myne vncle Dorset without lettynge

Capytayne of Herfflete shall he be

And all that is within the cytye

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A whyle yet they shall abyde

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To amende the Walles in euery degre

That is beten downe on euery syde

And after that they shall out_ryde

To other townes ouer-all

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Wyfe nor chylde shall not there abyde

But haue them forthe bothe great and small

One and twenty .M. men myght se

Whan they went out full sore dyde wepe

The great gunnes and ordynaunce truely

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Was brought in-to Herfflete

Great sykenes amonge our hoste was in good fay

Whiche kylled many of our englysshemen

There dyed by_yonde .vii. score vpon a day

Alyue there was lefte but thousandes .x.

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Our kynge hym-selfe into the castell yede

And rested hym there as longe as his wyll was

At the laste he sayd lordes so god me spede

Towarde Calayes I thynke to passe

After that Herfflete was gotten that royall cytye

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Through the grace of god omnypotente

Our comely kynge made hym redy soone

And towarde Calayes fourthe he wente

My brother Glocestre veramente

Here wyll we no lenger abyde

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And Cosyn of yorke this is oure entent

With vs fourth ye shall this tyde

My Cosyn Huntyngdon with vs shall ryde

And the Erle of Oxenforde with you thre

The duke of Southfolke by our syde

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He shall come fourthe with his meny

And the Erle of Deuounshyre sykerly

Syr thomas_harpynge that neuer dyde fayle

The lorde Broke that come hartely

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And syr Iohnn of cornewall

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Syr Gylberde_Umfrey that wolde vs auayle

And the lorde clyfforde so god me spede

Syr wyllyam_Bouser that wyll not fayle

For all thy wyll helpe yf it be nede

Our kynge rode fourth blessyd mought he be

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He spared neyther dale ne downe

By waters greate fast rode he

Tyll he cam to the water of sene

The frenchemen threwe the brydge adowne

That ouer the water they myght not passe

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O[u]r kynge made hym redy than

And to the towre of Turreyn wente more and lasse

The frenchemen our kynge abought becast

With batayles stronge on euery syde

The duke of Orlyaunce sayd in haste

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The kynge of Englande shall abyde

Who gaue hym leue this waye to passe

I trust that I shall hym begyle

Full longe or he come to Calays

The duke of Burbone answeryd sone

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And swere by god and by saynt Denys

We wyll play them euerychone

These lordes of Englande at the tenys

Theyr Gentylmen I swere by saynt Ihonn

And archers we wyll sell them greate plentye

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And so wyll we ryd them sone

Six for a peny of our monye

Than answered the duke of Bare

Wordes that were of greate pryde

By god he sayd I wyll not spare

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Ouer all the englysshemen for to ryde

If that they dare vs abyde

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We wyll ouerthrowe them in fere

And take them prysoners in this tyde

Than come home agayne to our dynere

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Henry our kynge that was so good

He prepared there full ryally

Stakes he let hewe in a wood

And set them before his archers verely

The frenchemen our ordynaunce gan espye

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They that we ordeyned for to ryde

Lyghted adowne with sorowe truely

So on theyr fote fast gan abyde

Our kynge wente vp vpon an hyll hye

And loked downe to the valyes lowe

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He sawe where the frenchemen came hastely

As thycke as euer dyde hayle or snowe

Than kneled our kynge downe in that stounde

And all his men on euery syde

Euery man made a crosse and kyssed the grounde

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And on theyr fete fast ganne abyde

Our kynge sayd syrs what tyme of the day

My lege they sayd it is nye pryme

Than go we to our iourney

By the grace of Iesu it is good tyme

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For sayntes that lye in theyr shryne

To god for vs they be prayenge

All the relygyouse of Englande in this tyme

Ora pro nobis for vs they synge

Saynt George was sene ouer our hoste

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Of very trouthe this syght men dyde se

Downe was he sente by the holygoste

To gyue our kynge the vyctory

Than blewe the trompetes merely

These two batayles to_gyther yede

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Our archers stode vp full hartely

And made the frenchemen fast to blede

Theyr arowes went fast without ony let

And many shot they through-out

Thorugh habergyne brestplate and bassenet

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A .xi.M. were slayne in that route

Our gracyouse kynge as I well knowe

That day he fough[t] with his owne hande fought] fough 1536

He spared neyther hye ne lowe

There was neuer kynge in no lande

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That euer dyd better on a daye

Wherfore Englande may synge a songe

Laus deo may we say

And other prayers euer amonge

The duke of Orlyaunce without nay

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That day was taken prysonere

The duke of Burbone also in fere

And also the duke of Bare truely

Syr Bergygaunte he gan hym yelde

And other lordes of Fraunce many

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Lo thus our comely kynge conquered the fyld

Be the grace of god omnypotent

He toke his presoners bothe olde and yonge

And towarde Calayes fourth he went

He shypped there with good entent

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To Cauntorbury full fayre he passed

And offered to saynt Thomas shryne

And through Kent he rode in haste

To Eltam he cam all in good tyme

And ouer blackeheth as he was rydynge

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Of the Cytye of London he was ware

Hayle ryall Cytye sayd our kynge

Cryste kepe the euer from sorowe and care

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And than he gaue the noble Cyte his blessyng

He prayed Iesu it myght well fare

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To westmynster dyde he ryde

And the frenche prysoners with hym also

He raunsommed them in that tyde

And agayne to theyr contrye he let them goo

Thus of this matter I make an ende

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To th'effecte of the batayll haue I gone

For in this boke I cannot comprehende

The greatest batayll of all called the sege of Ro[n]e Rone] Rome 1536

For that sege lasted .iii. yere and more

And there a rat was at .xl. pens.

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For in the Cytye the people hongered sore

Women and chyldren for faute of mete were lore

And some for payne bare bones were gnawynge

That at her brestes had .ii. chyldren soukynge

Of the sege of Rone it to wryte were pytye

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It is a thynge so lamentable

Yet euery hye feest / our kynge of his charytye

Gaue them meate to theyr bodyes comfortable

And at the laste / the towne wanne without fable

Thus of all as now I make an ende

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To the blysse of heuen god our soules sende.

¶Thus endeth the batayll of Egyngcourt

Inpryntyd at London in Foster_lane insaynt_Leonardes parysshe by me Iohnn_Skot.

FINIS