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Agincourt, Battle of 25th October 1415 ( St Crispin's day ).

In 1415, the English captured Harfleur they were then intercepted by the French army when marching north towards Calais. Michael Drayton a contemporary and a friend of Shakespeare describes the battle of the village of Agincourt in northern France. The army, led by King Henry the fifth had English archers and infantry which dug in behind wooden stakes between thickly wooded ground. The French cavalry advanced across the muddy ground only to be killed, French notables, including the Constable of France died, with perhaps as many as 1,500 knights and 4,500 men-at-arms.

Fair stood the wind for France
When we our sails advance,
Nor now to prove our chance
Longer will tarry;
But putting to the main
At Caux, the mouth of Seine,
With all his martial train,
Landed King Harry.

AND taking many a fort,
Furnished in warlike sort,
Marcheth toward Agincourt
In happy hour;
Skirmishing day by day
With those that stopped his way
Where the French general lay
With all his power

Which, in his height of pride,
King Henry to deride,
His ransom to provide,
Unto him sending;
Which he neglects the while,
As from a nation vile,
Yet, with an angry smile,
Their fall portending.

AND, turning to his men,
Quoth our brave Henry then:
Though they to one be ten,
Be not amazed;
Yet have we well begun -
Battles so bravely won
Have ever to the sun
By fame been raised.
AND for myself, quoth he,
This my full rest shall be:
England ne'er mourn for me,
Nor more esteem me:
Victor I will remain,
Or on this earth lie slain;
Never shall she sustain
Loss to redeem me.

Poiters and Crecy tell,
When most their pride did swell,
Under our swords they fell:
No less our skill is
Than when our grandsire great,
Claiming the regal seat,
By many a warlike feat
Lopped the French lilies.

THE Duke of York so dread The eager vaward led;
With the main Henry sped
Amongst his henchmen.
Exeter had the rear,
A braver man not there:
O Lord, how hot they were
On the false Frenchmen!

THEY now to fight are gone;
Armour on armour shone;
Drum now to drum did groan:
To hear was wonder:
That with the cries they make
The very earth did shake:
Trumpet to trumpet spake,
Thunder to thunder,

Well it thine age became,
O noble Erpingham,
Which didst the signal aim

Fair stood the wind for France When we our sails advance, Nor now to prove our chance Longer will tarry; But putting to the main At Caux, the mouth of Seine, With all his martial train, Landed King Harry.
	AND taking many a fort, Furnished in warlike sort, Marcheth toward Agincourt In happy hour; Skirmishing day by day With those that stopped his way Where the French general lay With all his power

AND, turning to his men, Quoth our brave Henry then: Though they to one be ten, Be not amazed; Yet have we well begun - Battles so bravely won Have ever to the sun By fame been raised. AND for myself, quoth he, This my full rest shall be: England ne'er mourn for me, Nor more esteem me: Victor I will remain, Or on this earth lie slain; Never shall she sustain Loss to redeem me.
		Poiters and Crecy tell, When most their pride did swell, Under our swords they fell: No less our skill is Than when our grandsire great, Claiming the regal seat, By many a warlike feat Lopped the French lilies.
THE Duke of York so dread The eager vaward led; With the main Henry sped Amongst his henchmen. Exeter had the rear, A braver man not there: O Lord, how hot they were On the false Frenchmen!
		THEY now to fight are gone; Armour on armour shone; Drum now to drum did groan: To hear was wonder: That with the cries they make The very earth did shake: Trumpet to trumpet spake, Thunder to thunder,
Well it thine age became, O noble Erpingham, Which didst the signal aim