What is this mystery object spotted by Google Moon? Unidentified wedge shape found on search engine's latest map of lunar surface The triangular anomaly has rows of seven light-like dots that have been likened to an alien base. It can be found on the Google Moon at coordinates 22042'38.46N and 142034'44.52E. According to website Tech and Gadget News: 'The gigantic shape actually looks like the leading edge of an immense, triangular space ship, similar to, so far, super secret stealth aircraft technology, but is much larger than any airplane ever built on Earth.' The triangular anomaly, spotted on Google's map of the moon, has rows of seven light-like dots along its edge that have been likened to an alien base or spaceship.

Congressional Disclosure Studies Alien Moon Bases   There is growing evidence that, contrary to what we have been told, the US landed on the moon only to find that someone else had got there before them. This evidence may be disturbing to many, because it implies that a civilization, or civilizations, more advanced than our own has built enormous structures on the moon. This evidence comes not from some remote planet like Mars but from the Moon right above our heads. Lobachevski crater. In 1997 American researcher, Steven Wingate, discovered an anomaly in NASA image AS16-121-19407(H) shown below. The apparent structure looks like a huge tower standing at the rim of the Lobachevski crater on the ‘dark’ side of the moon. A distinct shadow cast by the structure is clearly visible on its right hand side. This tall tower is approx. 13 miles high, 4 miles in diameter at the base, the dome top has three miles in diameter. Here we will analyze the alien architecture in great detail. All these images were extracted from NASA official photographs. This work is Perhaps the most hard-hitting and most extensive research done on this subject of moon extraterrestrial presence (via photographic analyzes). Technical note: This object is only part of a much larger panoramic photograph of the lunar sphere, and its location is closer to the rim or the horizon of the lunar sphere so when viewed you get an oblique profile, in other words side view (approximation 15 to 25 degrees of inclination from above ). Years of Doctored Data, Video and Photos Disclosed to Congress Discussions of alien moon bases and videos of structures on the dark side of the moon aren’t new. That congress is investigating, not only the bases themselves but three decades or more of continually doctored data from NASA and defense space projects is news. Last week, an unusual story was published by World News Tomorrow, alleging that crop circles were created by energy weapons in orbit, systems that were hacked. World News Tomorrow is not a simple internet news site. We know better. The video below is from Disclose TV and is claimed to be from a Chinese satellite orbiting the moon. Other sources claim that NASA is the source: Audio by Karl Wolfe from 2001 National Press Club Event I was sent some pictures by a source who claims China will be releasing Hi Res images taken by the Chang'e-2 moon orbiter, which clearly show buildings and structures on the moons surface. He also claims NASA has deliberately bombed important areas of the Moon in an effort to destroy ancient artifacts and facilities. Pictures yet to be released clearly show nuclear impact craters and building debris caused by explosions in an effort by NASA to destroy the truth. China is moving toward full disclosure of the Extraterrestrial reality. An article at DarkGovernment.com this week discussed some issues the press had been banned from covering: According to many researchers of Lunar and Martian space agency images, photos revealing artifacts and structures are routinely modified by NASA higher-ups. In NASA Trick To Remove Alien Evidence From Moon, Mars Revealed insiders Ken Johnston and Donna Hare accuse the space agency of “ordering a cover-up of photographic evidence,” and that “NASA doctored, obfuscated, and obscured thousands of photos over the years.” Part of the process involves a neutral filter allowing moving objects to be removed. Some photographic experts, however, argue that the same software can be tweaked to filter out objects anomalous to a landscape. Future space images—or even some of the most damning from the past—could be subjected to the process. The result would be images bereft of any embarrassing or controversial objects that may be littering the Lunar or Martian landscapes. And then there’s the publication, The Canadian that reports: “Dr. Micheal Salla has indicated that there is a Military Industrial Extraterrestrial Complex or MIEC, and that Earth is being assimilated by an alien agenda which also operates on Earth’s Moon.” Hannard claims he received an image from “a source” who, in part, claimed: “China will be releasing [high resolution] images taken by the Chang’e-2 Moon orbiter, which clearly show buildings and structures on the Moon’s surface. “China will be releasing all the data and images from the Chang’e-2 in the coming weeks and months, lets hope this is the beginning of a new era.” Government obfuscation has reached epic proportions of late. NASA sources have indicated that, next month, Earth faces a “near miss” or possible catastrophic asteroid collision, they aren’t certain yet. Sources tell us that the issue is not that we have failed to adequately track or prepare for a 150 foot asteroid passing inside our geosynchronous satellites but that the cause of the threat itself is being withheld, a collision within the asteroid belt by what NASA describes as a “rogue planet.” With recent “slam dunk” proof of UFO videos and “slam dunk” of purposefully made phony UFO videos of extremely high quality and great expense, along with cracking the satellite bloc on Area 51 and other “black sites,” and finding large triangular craft there, the charade cannot continue much longer. Congress put out 6000 pages on torture recently, internal consumption only. The report totally debunks the bin Laden murder film, “Zero Dark 30,” which depicts the “rekilling” of the long dead bin Laden, a top level CIA asset in good standing at the time of his death. The report, if released, would lead to the indictment of thousands of Americans for war crime. If “torture” has generated 6000 pages, what might the 500 witnesses and years of secret hearings over, not just UFOs and alien bases but secret weapon technologies and “exo-politics,” how large a report are “we” sitting on?   More recently a probe launched by the European Space Agency (ESA) has also photographed a massive tower-like object on the inside perimeter of a crater on the far side of the moon. As shown below, the shadow cast by the structure is clearly visible on the left hand side. This image, taken by the advanced Moon Imaging Experiment (AMIE) on board ESA’s SMART-1 spacecraft, shows crater Lomonosov. AMIE obtained the image on the 30th January 2006 with a ground resolution of 190 metres per pixel. The imaged area is centred at a latitude of 27.8º North and a longitude of 98.6º East [AMI-EAE3-001856-00042-00038]. No known natural process can explain the presence of such a structure. Computer enhancement shows an irregular outline with more reflective and less reflective surfaces. The amount of sunlight reflecting from parts of the Shard indicates a composition consistent with crystal, glass or polished metal. Single crystals the size of city blocks are currently unknown. The Shard may be an eroded remnant of an artificial structure made of glass-like material. The Tower The Tower is even more massive than the Shard soaring to more than five miles above the surface of the Moon. It has been photographed from five different angles and two different altitudes (from 30 miles altitude, and from 70 miles altitude at three different distances). In all four photographs the same structure is visible and can be viewed from two different sides. The Tower exists in front of and to the left of the Shard in the Lunar Orbiter III-84M photograph. The distance from the Tower and the camera is estimated at about 200 miles, while the distance of the Shard beyond the Tower is estimated at about 230 miles. The top of the Tower has a very ordered cubic geometry, and appears to be composed of regular cubes (similar in size) joined together to form a very large cube with an estimated width of over one mile. There is apparent damage to the outline and surface of this structure. A narrow columnar structure appears to connect this cube with the surface of the Moon. The columnar support is at least three miles in height. Six mysterious statuesque towers Photographs of strange surface anomalies made the front page of a November 1966 edition of The Washington Post. NASA Lunar Orbiter 2 had photographed what appeared to be six or seven towers, arranged in a specific geometric pattern, in the Mare Tranquilis region of the moon. Their pointed shadows indicated that they were either conical or pyramid-shaped. One of the apparent towers measured over 200 metres in height. NASA countered that the photographs did not show anything of any interest… whatsoever. The Russian magazine Argosy published comments made by Russian space scientist Alexander Abromov. He stated that the Russian Luna 9 probe had, on landing on the Moon on the 4th February 1966, taken some strange looking photographs: structures that stood in the landscape in a distinct pattern. The tops of the structures appeared to have a profile similar to a pyramidion. More lunar towers Looking at the old Apollo photographs and more recent pictures taken by satellite, ink spots and blurs can frequently be seen. NASA and the US air force censors have carefully inspected every single photograph and have blurred some areas while applying black ink to others. What are they trying to hide? Technology has moved on since the days of the Apollo missions. Computers and their software are now vastly more sophisticated. Features that were not evident on lunar photographs released to the public in the 1960s and 1970’s, and thus missed by the censors, can now be discerned using modern image analysis software. Detailed analysis of photographs released by NASA has revealed evidence of what appear to be ruins and artificial constructions of various types. Numerous massive towers have been discovered on the lunar surface. Below is an attempt by the NASA censors to smudge out one of these towers from an Apollo photograph. The Brookings Report examines the potential implications for the discovery of extraterrestrial life, stresses a need for further research, including a study how leadership should handle the information and under what circumstances leaders might or might not find it advisable to withhold such information from the public. Nowhere in my presentation I said that the government should or should not follow guidelines. I only quoted parts from the report. It is up to you to decide what happened. On Earth most minerals are located miles deep inside the earth's crust. The Zeeman crater and other places on the Moon are to be seen as holes of several miles deep (6000-9000) metres below moon surface) and therefore excavators / miners do not need to dig for minerals as they ly on the moon surface and are ready to be excavated. The shard and the tower on the dark side of the moon what are they? These images are from Lunar Orbiter frame LO-III-84-M. Taken with the medium  resolution camera at a distance of at least 250 miles, it shows an object dubbed by Hoagland the "Shard". The star-like object above the "Shard" is a camera registration mark. The "Shard" has a shadow cast in the correct direction for it to be a real object on the Moon and is aligned with the local vertical rather than the grain of the film, decreasing the chance it is an emulsion abnormality. Close-ups reveal a cellular-like internal structure. Above and behind the "Shard" is the "Tower", a massive 7 mile high structure with a central "cube" suspended by a tripod like base. Enhancements of the "Tower" show a similar cellular construction to the "Shard", but with a distinctly hexagonal pattern. THE TOWER The Tower represents an enigma of the highest magnitude, because it rises more than five miles above the surface of the Moon, and has been photographed from five different angles and two different altitudes (from 30 miles altitude, and from 70 miles altitude at three different distances). In all four photographs the same structure is visible, and can be viewed from two different sides. The Tower exists in front of and to the left of the Shard in the Lunar Orbiter III-84M photograph. The distance from the Tower and the camera is estimated at about 200 miles, while the distance of the Shard beyond the Tower is estimated at about 230 miles. The top of the Tower has a very ordered cubic geometry, and appears to be composed of regular cubes (similar in size) joined together to form a very large cube with an estimated width of over one mile! There is apparent damage to the outline and surface of this megacube, because many cubic spaces or indentations occur over its surface (these spaces are 50-60 times larger than pixel size, and their shapes are not controlled by the rectangular shape of the pixel). A narrow columnar structure connects this cube with the surface of the Moon. The columnar support is at least three miles tall, and tapers towards its base. The taper may be in part due to perspective, if the Tower is oriented at an angle and is leaning towards the camera. The leaning Tower may be part of a larger more transparent structure, which is also inclined. THE CUBE To the left of the shard, a faint anomaly was photographed. After printing the negative over and over again at different exposure levels, and analysing the results with various computer imaging processes, the anomaly was found to be a massive "tower/cube" hanging more than seven miles above the Moon!  Note the highly reflective "debris" surrounding this structure seemingly embedded in a darker material. This looks very much like reflective crystalline material being held miles above the lunar surface by a framework or matrix of "rebar" (reinforcing bars). Surrounding the Tower are faint indications of additional light-reflective material. The amount of light coming from this material is very small compared with the amount of light reflected off the lunar surface. In order to make it visible, the surface of the Moon has to be over-exposed on the photograph. The pattern that becomes visible above the Moon's surface is not caused by the scan lines that make up the Lunar Orbiter photography. The scan lines can be seen clearly, and are oriented at different angles from the orientation of patterns in the sky. The regular cubic and/or rectangular nature of this pattern, and indications of radiating structures that connect the Tower with the surface indicate that material of low light reflectivity exists above the Moon's surface over a large area measured in hundreds of miles. The irregular splotchy reflection from some of this aerial material may be due to meteorite and projectile damage over millions of years. Its highly transparent nature (bright stars can be seen behind and through this material) indicates either an open grid with cubic spaces or glass-like material held together by some sort of structural grid or a combination of both. Other photographs described below confirm the size and extent of this grid-like construction. THE SKY GRID The Surveyor 6 photograph of the Sun's corona at the horizon (Photograph published in NASA Technical Report 32-1262) is a view just to the north of the Tower (less than 100 miles). Total image was recorded in primary data, and variations in image reproduction are due to processing differences. Two major anomalies are apparent in this photograph: 1) sunlight at the surface of the Moon is refracted towards the camera and appears as elongate beads of bright light on top of the horizon (JPL measurements indicate light saturation for the camera was reached in these beads); 2) a regular cubic pattern of horizontal benches appears above the surface, and extends nearly as high as the view in the photograph to an altitude of several miles. Due to the angle of incidence of backlit sunlight from the Sun, which was located below the horizon, the visibility of the pattern above the surface decreases with increasing angular reflection from the center of the Sun. This means that whatever was causing the reflection and refraction above the Moon's surface is geometrically dependent on the Sun's position below the Moon's horizon, and is therefore not likely an artifact of imaging, reproduction, or processing. Six additional pictures of this horizon were taken within 90 minutes, and if available (obtainable) will provide additional data for further analysis. The bright beads of light on the surface decrease or become more non-continuous laterally along the horizon. This anomalous beading was explained by NASA as diffraction by fine dust suspended above the surface. No such suspended dust was found by the Apollo astronauts, and an alternative hypothesis is warranted. I agree with Hoagland's interpretation that a) the light is refraction, and b) the intense concentration of light is likely caused by glass imaging the Sun from beyond the horizon. It is unlikely that the material causing this phenomenon is natural dust or glass tectites on the surface, which are largely opaque to only partly transparent. The glass refracting the light has to be nearly transparent to transmit so much light to such a height above the surface, particularly if the refracting material has any depth to it. It may represent the basal more intact part of a superstructure that is apparent above the surface. Because of less damage, and more massive glass support structures at the base (visible in some photographs as a hierarchy of stacked glass arches, each with expanded bases), more light is conducted and focused there like a series of glass lenses. Simple reflection can be ruled out as an explanation for the beads because of the position of the Sun below the horizon. The three Apollo 10 photographs showing the Tower in the distance also show the grid structure from above. These photographs were taken at three different distances from the Tower as the Apollo spacecraft moved towards the Tower. Within the sky above the horizon and around the Tower a regular grid pattern emerges with proper contrast control. This grid pattern appears to be three-dimensional, and is expressed as dark lines with random points of reflection around those lines. The grid appears to be some sort of support structure, perhaps formed from a metallic rebar. The reflective material associated with it is cubic and hexagonal in design, but incomplete. With different attitudes or angles of sight, different areas of the grid structure become illuminated or reflective, implying that angle of incidence is important. I agree with Hoagland's interpretation of this material as remnant portions of the glass structure, which still remains attached and suspended above the Moon's surface on a metallic cross support structure. The Tower, by contrast, is visible in all three photographs, because there is much more glass remaining than on the suspended grid structure around the Tower. Even from different angles and distances in these photographs, the top of the Tower appears as a giant cube made up of smaller cubic and hexagonal objects. There is no way to get around this evidence once it becomes apparent. Altering the contrast of the Moon's surface can make this faint structure seem to disappear, but such photographic manipulation (cf. NASA catalogs) will not invalidate it. The evidence that Richard Hoagland has brought to light may assail one's sensibilities because of its magnitude and artificial implication, but it cannot be dismissed or ignored. It is there and it must be explained. One tower in the same region nicknamed the "castle" reaches an incredible 30 MILES into the air from the 1/6th earth gravity environment of the lunar surface. The Castle. This strange object, photographed during an Apollo mission, has been named "the castle" by Richard Hoagland. It seems to have a definite structure, like the remnant wall of some ancient building. The bottom looks as if it has rows of support columns, above which is a high spire. Whatever it is, it's much brighter than the surrounding landscape. Is it just a trick of light and shadow? A photographic anomaly? One formerly suppressed Apollo 10 photo, #4822, showed an incredible array of artificial lunar constructions. Conclusions So what are the implications of the growling list of lunar anomalies that appear to be buildings and towers? Are these artificial constructions active or long abandoned? Who built them – men or aliens? Why have the Americans kept quiet about these structures for so long? The most likely reason is that they still do not know what they are. Conventional archaeology does not allow for an ancient human super civilisation that was capable of space flight. The experts at NASA and the US military will therefore assume that what they have discovered on the moon is incontrovertible evidence that we are not alone in the universe – that an advanced alien intelligence is far closer to us than we ever dared to imagine.

Our enigmatic moon may have a sinister origin that mankind is not prepared for. From astronaut UFO encounters, to flashing lights, to geometric anomalies on the surface that appear to be structures, it’s possible that the moon my actually be the home of ancient aliens or be serving as a base of operations. For the moon to be able to perfectly eclipse the sun is a mathematical impossibility based on our current understanding of psychics but we also know that the moon could be hollow from experiments performed on Apollo missions. Clearly, there is an intelligence involved with our mysterious satellite. We earthlings are always viewing the same side of the moon due to the phenomenon of tidal locking. This causes the moon to rotate around its own axis in approximately the same time as it takes to orbit the earth. So we know about features such as Mount Hadley and the Sea of Tranquility, on the side of the moon astronomers can observe, but what about the side facing away from us? Are there beings living or working there? Why have there been no manned moon landing missions since 1972? Here are five astonishing disclosures about what exists on the far side of the moon. Astronaut Buzz Aldrin, lunar module pilot of the first lunar landing mission, poses for a photograph beside the deployed United States flag during an Apollo 11 Extravehicular Activity (EVA) on the lunar surface. The Lunar Module (LM) is on the left, and the footprints of the astronauts are clearly visible in the soil of the Moon. Astronaut Neil A. Armstrong, commander, took this picture with a 70mm Hasselblad lunar surface camera. While astronauts Armstrong and Aldrin descended in the LM, the "Eagle", to explore the Sea of Tranquility region of the Moon, astronaut Michael Collins, command module pilot, remained with the Command and Service Modules (CSM) "Columbia" in lunar-orbit. (NASA) # This July 20, 1969 file photo released by NASA shows Apollo 11 astronaut Edwin E. "Buzz" Aldrin, Jr. removing a scientific experiment from the Lunar Module "Eagle" during the Apollo 11 lunar landing mission. As an estimated 500 million people around the world waited with bated breath crowded around fuzzy television screens and radios, Armstrong stepped down the lunar module's ladder and onto the lunar surface. "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind," Armstrong intoned, his words slightly distorted by distance and communications equipment, in a phrase now etched forever into the history books. (/AFP/Getty Images) # On July 20, 1969, Apollo 11 astronauts Neil Armstrong and Edwin "Buzz" Aldrin became the first to walk on the Moon. This panorama of their landing site sweeps across the magnificent desolation of the Moon's Sea of Tranquility, with their Lunar Module, the Eagle, in the background at the far left. East Crater, about 30 meters wide and 4 meters deep, is on the right, and was so named because it is about 60 meters east of the Lunar Module. Armstrong had piloted the Eagle safely over the crater. Near the end of his stay on the lunar surface, Armstrong strayed far enough from the Lunar Module to take the pictures used to construct this wide-angle view, his shadow appearing at the panorama's left edge. The object near the middle foreground is a stereo close-up camera. (NASA)  Without the moon, Earth would be a very different and desolate place today--four hours of sunlight with pitch-black nights, steady 100-mph winds spawning giant hurricanes that last for months This July 20, 1969 file photo released by NASA shows commander of the Apollo 11 mission Neil Armstrong of the US near the lunar lander and the US flag, taken by Apollo 11 astronaut Edwin E. "Buzz" Aldrin, Jr. on the surface of the Moon. With one small step off a ladder, Neil Armstrong became the first human to set foot on the moon on July 20, 1969, before the eyes of hundreds of millions of awed television viewers worldwide. With that step, he placed mankind's first footprint on an extraterrestrial world and gained instant hero status. (NASA/AFP/Getty Images) # An oblique of the Crater Daedalus on the lunar farside as seen from the Apollo 11 spacecraft in lunar orbit. The view looks southwest. Daedalus (formerly referred to as I.A.U. Crater No. 308) is located at 179 degrees east longitude and 5.5 degrees south latitude. Daedalus has a diameter of about 50 statute miles. This is a typical scene showing the rugged terrain on the farside of the Moon. While astronauts Neil A. Armstrong, commander, and Edwin E. Aldrin, Jr., lunar module pilot, descended in the Lunar Module (LM) "Eagle" to explore the Sea of Tranquility region of the Moon, astronaut Michael Collins, command module pilot, remained with the Command and Service Modules (CSM) "Columbia" in lunar orbit. (NASA)  The Apollo 11 Lunar Module (LM) "Eagle", in a landing configuration is photographed in lunar orbit from the Command and Service Modules (CSM) "Columbia". Inside the LM were Commander, Neil A. Armstrong, and Lunar Module Pilot Edwin E. "Buzz" Aldrin Jr. The long "rod-like" protrusions under the landing pods are lunar surface sensing probes. Upon contact with the lunar surface, the probes send a signal to the crew to shut down the descent engine. (NASA) # 28 The deployment of scientific experiments by Astronaut Edwin Aldrin Jr. is photographed by Astronaut Neil Armstrong. Man's first landing on the Moon occurred July 20, 1969 as Lunar Module "Eagle" touched down gently on the Sea of Tranquility on the east side of the Moon.(Photo by NASA/Newsmakers) # 29 This incredible image of the Earth rise was taken during lunar orbit by the Apollo 11 mission crew in July of 1969. (NASA) # 30 In this July 1969 file photo, Astronaut Edwin Aldrin walks by the footpad of the Apollo 11 Lunar Module. (AP/Photo, NASA, file) #   32 Astronaut Buzz Aldrin, lunar module pilot, walks on the surface of the Moon near the leg of the Lunar Module (LM) "Eagle" during the Apollo 11 exravehicular activity (EVA). Astronaut Neil A. Armstrong, commander, took this photograph with a 70mm lunar surface camera. While astronauts Armstrong and Aldrin descended in the Lunar Module (LM) "Eagle" to explore the Sea of Tranquility region of the Moon, astronaut Michael Collins, command module pilot, remained with the Command and Service Modules (CSM) "Columbia" in lunar orbit. (NASA) #   35 This July 20, 1969 file photo released by NASA shows Apollo 11 astronaut Edwin E. "Buzz" Aldrin, Jr. removing a scientific experiment from the Lunar Module "Eagle" during the Apollo 11 lunar landing mission. As an estimated 500 million people around the world waited with bated breath crowded around fuzzy television screens and radios, Armstrong stepped down the lunar module's ladder and onto the lunar surface. "That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind," Armstrong intoned, his words slightly distorted by distance and communications equipment, in a phrase now etched forever into the history books. (/AFP/Getty Images) #

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BATTLE OF AGINCOURT

 

 

BATTLE OF AGINCOURT

the fields of Agincourt Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot, But he'll remember with advantages What feats he did that day: then shall our names. Familiar in his mouth as household words Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester, Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd. - Shakespeare. Henry V

 The Battle of Agincourt was a major English victory in the Hundred Years' War.The battle took place on Friday, 25 October 1415 (Saint Crispin's Day) in the County of Saint-Pol, Artois, some 40 km south of Calais (now Azincourt in northern France). Henry V's victory at Agincourt, against a numerically superior French army, crippled France and started a new period in the war during which Henry V married the French king's daughter, and their son, later Henry VI of England and Henry II of France, was made heir to the throne of France as well as of England. Henry V led his troops into battle and participated in hand-to-hand fighting. The French king of the time, Charles VI, did not command the French army himself as he suffered from severe psychotic illnesses with moderate mental incapacitation. Instead, the French were commanded by Constable Charles d'Albret and various prominent French noblemen of the Armagnac party.

This battle is notable for the use of the English longbow in very large numbers, with English and Welsh archers forming most of Henry's army. The battle is the centerpiece of the play Henry V by William Shakespeare.

Henry V invaded France following the failure of negotiations with the French. He claimed the title of King of France through his great-grandfather Edward III, although in practice the English kings were generally prepared to renounce this claim if the French would acknowledge the English claim on Aquitaine and other French lands (the terms of the Treaty of Brétigny). He initially called a Great Council in the spring of 1414 to discuss going to war with France, but the lords insisted that he should negotiate further and moderate his claims. In the following negotiations Henry said that he would give up his claim to the French throne if the French would pay the 1.6 million crowns outstanding from the ransom of John II (who had been captured at the Battle of Poitiers in 1356), and concede English ownership of the lands of Normandy, Touraine, Anjou, Brittany and Flanders, as well as Aquitaine. Henry would marry Princess Catherine, the young daughter of Charles VI, and receive a dowry of 2 million crowns. The French responded with what they considered the generous terms of marriage with Princess Catherine, a dowry of 600,000 crowns, and an enlarged Aquitaine. By 1415, negotiations had ground to a halt, with the English claiming that the French had mocked their claims and ridiculed Henry himself. In December 1414, the English parliament was persuaded to grant Henry a "double subsidy", a tax at twice the traditional rate, to recover his inheritance from the French. On 19 April 1415, Henry again asked the Great Council to sanction war with France, and this time they agreed.

Henry's army landed in northern France on 13 August 1415, carried by a fleet described by Shakespeare as "a city on the inconstant billows dancing / For so appears this fleet majestical", often reported to comprise 1,500 ships, but probably far smaller, and besieged the port of Harfleur with an army of about 12,000, and up to 20,000 horses. The siege took longer than expected. The town surrendered on 22 September, and the English army did not leave until 8 October. The campaign season was coming to an end, and the English army had suffered many casualties through disease. Rather than retire directly to England for the winter, with his costly expedition resulting in the capture of only one town, Henry decided to march most of his army (roughly 9,000) through Normandy to the port of Calais, the English stronghold in northern France, to demonstrate by his presence in the territory at the head of an army that his right to rule in the duchy was more than a mere abstract legal and historical claim. He also intended the manoeuvre as a deliberate provocation to battle aimed at the dauphin, who had failed to respond to Henry's personal challenge to combat at Harfleur.

The French hoped to raise 9,000 troops, but the army was not ready in time to relieve Harfleur. After Henry V marched to the north, the French moved to block them along the River Somme. They were successful for a time, forcing Henry to move south, away from Calais, to find a ford. The English finally crossed the Somme south of Péronne, at Béthencourt and Voyennes and resumed marching north. Without a river obstacle to defend, the French were hesitant to force a battle. They shadowed Henry's army while calling a semonce des nobles, calling on local nobles to join the army. By 24 October, both armies faced each other for battle, but the French declined, hoping for the arrival of more troops. The two armies spent the night of 24 October on open ground. The next day the French initiated negotiations as a delaying tactic, but Henry ordered his army to advance and to start a battle that, given the state of his army, he would have preferred to avoid, or to fight defensively: that was how Crécy and the other famous longbow victories had been won.

 

Legend says the Battle of Agincourt was won by stalwart English archers. It was not. In the end it was won by men using lead-weighted hammers, poleaxes, mauls and falcon-beaks, the ghastly paraphernalia of medieval hand-to-hand fighting. It was fought on a field knee-deep in mud and it was more of a massacre than a battle. Laurence Olivier's film of Shakespeare's Henry V shows French knights charging on horseback, but very few men were mounted at Agincourt. The French came on foot and the battle was reduced to men hitting other armoured men with hammers, maces and axes.  Crowning glory: Kenneth Branagh in his film version of Shakespeare's Henry V dramatising the 15th-century Battle of Agincourt. A sword would not penetrate armour and did not have the weight to knock a man off his feet, but a poleaxe (a long-handled axe or hammer, topped with a fearsome spike) would fell him fast, and then it was easy to raise the victim's visor and slide a knife through an eye. That was how hundreds of men died; their last sight on earth a dagger's point. It is not a tale of chivalry, but rather of armoured men hacking at each other to break limbs and crush skulls. At the battle's height, when Henry V expected an attack on his rear that never materialised, he ordered the newly captured French prisoners to be killed. They were murdered. Over the weekend, during a conference at the Medieval History Museum in Agincourt, French academics met to declare that English soldiers acted like 'war criminals' during the battle, setting fire to prisoners and killing French noblemen who had surrendered. The French 'were met with barbarism by the English', said the museum's director Christophe Gilliot. The French pronouncement smacks of bias, but what is certain is that Agincourt was filthy, horrible and merciless. Yet it is still celebrated as a golden moment in England's history. Why do we remember it? Why has this battle galvanised English hearts over the centuries? These are questions I came to ask as I researched my new novel Azincourt - spelled as it is in France - and discovered just what an extraordinary event it was. Part of the legend about the archers is certainly true. Most of the English army were archers and their arrows caused huge damage, although they never delivered the knock-out blow it is claimed. Henry V was also an inspirational leader. He fought in the front rank and part of his crown was knocked off. Eighteen Frenchmen had taken an oath to kill him and all of them died at Henry's feet, slaughtered by the King or by his bodyguard. And, despite recent claims to the contrary, it seems the English were horribly outnumbered. In the cold, wet dawn of October 25, 1415, no one could have expected Henry's army to survive the day. He had about 6,000 men, more than 5,000 of them archers, while the French numbered at least 30,000 and were so confident that, before the battle was joined, they sent away some newly arrived reinforcements. By dusk on that Saint Crispin's Day, Henry's small army had entered legend. But the English should never have been at Agincourt, which lies 25 miles south of Calais. England was in the thick of the 100 Years' War with France, and Henry had invaded Normandy in the hope of making a quick conquest of Harfleur, a strategic port. Yet the town's stubborn defence delayed him and by the siege's end his army had been struck by dysentery. Sick men were dying and the campaign season was ending as winter drew in. Sensible advice suggested that Henry cut his losses and sail back to England. But he had borrowed huge amounts of money to invade France and all he had to show for it was one gun-battered port. Going home looked suspiciously like defeat. He instead marched north to Calais with probably nothing more in mind than cocking a snook at the French who, though they had gathered an army, had done nothing to relieve the brave defenders of Harfleur. The Battle of Agincourt, as depicted in the Channel 4 show The World's Worst Century Henry wanted to humiliate the French by flaunting his banners, yet I doubt he truly wanted to face that large French army with his own depleted numbers. The French had been supine all summer, but now, suddenly, they woke and moved to block Henry's path. Henry tried to go round them. A march meant to last eight days stretched to 16. The English exhausted their food, they were ill with dysentery and soaked from the continual autumn rains. They were driven far inland in search of a place to cross the River Somme and then trudged north, only to discover the French army waiting for them on a muddy field between the woods of Azincourt and Tramecourt. The English were trapped. The French were barring the English road home, so Henry had to fight. He hoped the French would attack him and he ordered his archers to protect themselves from knights on horseback by making a thicket of sharpened stakes to impale the stallions' chests. But the French remained motionless, so Henry was forced to advance on them. Did he really say 'Let's go, fellows!' as one contemporary claimed? It seems so, yet whatever his words, the English plucked up their stakes and waded through the mud to get close to the French line. And the French, even though they must have seen that the English were in disarray, did nothing. They let Henry's men come to within extreme bowshot distance where, once again, the stakes were hammered into the ground and the battle line was reformed on a newly ploughed field that had been soaked by constant rain. If I had to suggest one cause for the French defeat, it would be mud. The two sides were now little more than a couple of hundred paces apart. The English, astonishingly, had been given time to reposition themselves, and now the archers began the battle by shooting a volley of arrows. At least 5,000 of them, most converging from the flanks, slashed into the French, and it seems that the shock of that first arrow strike prompted the French to attack. A handful of Frenchmen advanced on horseback, trying to get among the archers, but mud, stakes and arrows easily defeated those knights. Some of the horses, maddened by pain, galloped back through the French men-at-arms, tearing their ranks into chaos. Some 8,000 Frenchmen were now advancing on foot. No one knows how long it took them to cover the 200 or more paces which separated them from Henry's men-at-arms, but it was not a quick approach. They were wading through mud made treacherous by deeply ploughed furrows and churned to quagmire by horses' hooves. And they were being struck by arrows so that they were forced to close their helmets' visors. They could see little through the tiny eye- slits, their breathing was stifled and still the arrows came. The conventional verdict suggests that the French were cut down by those arrow storms, but the chief effect of the arrows was to delay and, by forcing them to close their visors, half-blind the attackers. The French knew about English and Welsh archers. The longbow could shoot an arrow more than 200 paces with an accuracy that was unmatched till the rifled gun barrel was invented. At Agincourt some barbed broadhead arrows (which were designed to cause maximum damage and could fell cavalry) would have been shot at those few horses that attacked the English line. But most were bodkins, long and slender arrowheads without barbs that were made to pierce armour. A good archer could easily shoot 15 arrows a minute, so 5,000 archers could loose 75,000 arrows in one minute; more than 1,000 a second. Why did the French not deploy their own longbowmen? Because to shoot a longbow demanded great strength (they were at least three times as powerful as a modern competition bow) and considerable skill. It took years for a man to develop the muscles and technique, and for reasons that have never been understood, such men emerged in Britain, but not on the Continent. So as the first French line advanced it was being struck repeatedly by arrows, and even if a bodkin did not penetrate plate armour its strike was sufficient to knock a man backwards. If the advance took four minutes (and I suspect it took longer), then about 300,000 arrows would have been shot at the 8,000 men. A page entitled 'Agincourt' from John Lennon's illustrated schoolbook, 'Anthology', created when he was 12

Even if the English were short of arrows and cut their shooting rate to one-third, then they would still have driven 100,000 arrows against the struggling 8,000, and if the legend is correct, then not one of those Frenchmen should have survived. Yet they did survive, and most of them reached the English line and started fighting with shortened lances, poleaxes and war-hammers. The fight became a struggle of hacking and thrusting, slaughter in the mud. But if so many arrows had been shot, how did the French survive to reach the English and start that murderous brawl? The answer probably lies in the eternal arms race. Armour technology had advanced and the French plate armour was mostly good enough to resist the English arrow-heads. And how good were those heads? Arrow-making was an industrial-scale activity in England, yet few men understood what happened when iron was hardened into steel and many of the English arrows crumpled on contact with the enemy's armour. So the many reached the few, but the many were exhausted by mud, some were wounded and the English, enjoying the luxury of raised visors, cut them down. What seems to have happened was that the front rank of the French, exhausted by slogging through the mud, battered and wounded by arrows, disorganised by panicked horses and by stumbling over wounded men, became easy victims for the English men-at-arms. There would have been the ghastly sound of hammers crushing helmets, the screams of men falling, and suddenly the leading French rank being chopped down and its fallen men becoming an obstacle to those behind who, being thrust forward by the rearmost ranks, tripped on the newly fallen bodies and so became victims themselves. One witness claimed that the pile of dead and dying was as tall as a man, an obvious exaggeration, but undoubtedly the first French casualties made a rampart to protect the English men-at-arms.

The French had attacked the centre of the English line where the King, the nobles and the gentry stood. Their aim had been to take prisoners and so become rich from ransoms, but now that centre was a killing ground and, to escape it, the French widened their attack to assault the archers who had probably exhausted their arrows. Yet the archers had been equipped with poleaxes and other handweapons, and they fought back.

 

A painting of Henry V, who is described by Bernard Cornwell as an 'inspirational leader' The bowmen wore little armour, and in the glutinous mud they were far more mobile than their plate-armoured opponents. Any man capable of hauling a warbow's string was hugely strong and a battle-axe in his hands would be a ghastly weapon. So the archers joined the hand-to-hand fight and the tired French were killed in their hundreds.
The second French line, another 8,000 men on foot, tried to support their beleaguered colleagues, but they too were cut down and the rest of the French melted away. The extraordinary, awful battle was over. The field was now groaning with horribly wounded men; men lying in piles, men suffocating in mud, dead men, blood-drenched men. Perhaps as many as 5,000 French died that day, while English losses were in the hundreds, maybe not even as many as 200. The few had gained their extraordinary triumph. There were other victories, like Poitiers in 1356, that were more decisive, and it is arguable that Agincourt achieved very little; it would take another five years of warfare before Henry won the concessions he wanted from the French and even then his premature death proved those gains worthless. Shakespeare's heart-stirring Henry V helped ensure the battle's place in English folklore, but Shakespeare was playing to an audience that already knew the tale and wanted to hear it again. Agincourt was well-known long before Shakespeare made it immortal, yet even so there were those other great triumphs like Poitiers and Crecy, so why Agincourt?  

It must have started with the stories told by survivors. They had expected annihilation and gained victory. It might even be true that the archers, when the battle was over, taunted the French by holding up the two string-fingers that the enemy had threatened to slice off every captured bowman - the V- sign that is common parlance today. The men in Henry's army must have believed they had been part of a miracle. The few had destroyed the many, and most of those few were archers. They were not lords and knights and gentry, but butchers, bakers and candlestick-makers from the shires. They were the ordinary men of England and Wales. They had met the awesome power of France in hand-to-hand fighting and they had won. The battle is part of the binding of England, the emergence of the common man as a vital part of the nation, and those common men returned to England with their tales, their plunder and their pride. The stories were told in taverns over and over, how a few hungry, trapped men had gained an amazing victory. The story is still told because it has such power. It is a tale of the common man achieving greatness. Instead of being outnumbered five to one by French forces, as tradition tells, his bedraggled English army may actually have had an even fight on their hands.

 

An engraving depicting the Battle of Agincourt of 1415 in which Henry V defeated the French. Historians who have combed through complex tax and military records claimed yesterday - the 594th anniversary of the battle - that the stunning scale  of Henry’s win was exaggerated by his spin doctors for propaganda purposes. And it was a story that Shakespeare happily repeated, dubbing Henry’s troops ‘we few, we happy few, we band of brothers’ who delivered an extraordinary victory against all odds on St Crispin’s Day, October 25, 1415. The outcome was certainly shocking, for the French army was made up of heavily  armoured nobles, while the English were exhausted, depleted by battle losses and wracked by dysentery. To Shakespeare, it was the moment a feckless youth turned into a great king, leading his army to victory against seemingly impossible odds.  They  accuse King Henry V of giving his permission for captives to be burnt to death and ordering his bodyguards to execute a noble who had surrendered.

 

Romantic view of history? Kenneth Branagh playing Henry V in a film of Shakespeare's play in which he leads his army to victory against impossible odds. The battle  -  part of the Hundred Years War  -  has become a byword for English heroism in the face of insurmountable odds. But nearly 600 years later, historians will tell a conference at the Medieval History Museum in Agincourt that the stories that Henry's troops were hugely outnumbered are a lie. The museum's director, distinguished French historian Christophe Gilliot, said: 'There's been a distortion of the facts and this conference will attempt to set the record straight.

 

Brave or brutal? An illustration of the Battle of Agincourt in 1415 in which the English were always thought to have been hugely outnumbered. 'We have historians arriving from all over France, and all will produce hard facts concerning the battle.

Inspired leader: A portrait of Henry V

'At the very least the English forces acted dishonourably. The Middle Ages were a very violent time, of course, but some might accuse the English of acting like what might now be called war criminals.' The Battle of Agincourt was immortalised by Shakespeare and is the centrepiece of his play Henry V. It took place on Friday, October 25 in 1415 after a force led by Henry engaged the French at Agincourt, a small village not far from Calais in northern France. The traditional story is that the English army, made up mainly of archers using longbows, massacred a vast force of French noblemen. But detailed bureaucratic records from the army of the French king, Charles VI, reveal it was made up of 9,000 travelling soldiers, perhaps with another 3,000 local troops. This compares with a total force of 12,000 which travelled to France with Henry  -  although 3,000 were lost during the preceding siege of Harfleur. English chroniclers writing in the years following the battle wrongly claimed that there were as many as 150,000 French, compared with 6,000 English soldiers. Perhaps unsurprisingly, no English academics have been invited to today's conference in France. But Professor Anne Curry, a military historian from Southampton University, admitted that many accounts of the battle have been exaggerated to give the impression of 'plucky little England against the evil French'. Although Henry triumphed at Agincourt, he never succeeded in his ultimate aim  -  taking the French throne. What isn’t at issue is that the French became bogged down in treacherous mud after being lured by Henry’s brilliant tactics into a narrow field, where they  were devastated by thousands of arrows from English longbow men and  outmaneuvered by common soldiers with much lighter equipment.

 

William Shakespeare fed the 'against-the-odds' story

But what researchers have now concluded is that rather than facing a force five times as big, the English could not have been outnumbered by more than two to one.  And the two sides may in fact have been more evenly matched, according to historian Anne Curry from the University of Southampton, who is leading the study. She believes French forces numbered no more than 12,000 - basing her estimate on military pay records, muster rolls, ships’ logs, published rosters of the  wounded and dead, and wartime tax levies - while Henry probably had at least  8,700 men. Others agree. 'It was not the complete French power at Agincourt,' said  Bertrand Schnerb, a professor of medieval history at the University of Lille, who estimated that there were 12,000 to 15,000 French soldiers. According to these new versions, after the battle the English crown launched a PR effort to magnify the victory by exaggerating the difference in numbers. This is clearly disappointing news for Britons who have been delighting for centuries at the idea that Agincourt delivered a David v Goliath walloping to the traditional French foe. 'It’s just a myth, but it’s a myth that’s part of the British psyche,' Ms. Curry said, adding that academics had long been reluctant to challenge Shakespeare’s famous lines and a central tenet of English pride.

SHAKESPEARE'S WORDS 'And gentlemen in England now-a-bed Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.'

But all is not lost. Clifford J. Rogers, a professor of history at the U.S. Military Academy at West  Point, told the New York Times today that Shakespeare was right.  The English had a total of 6,000 - 1,000 men-at-arms in heavy steel armour from  head to toe and 5,000 lightly armoured men with longbows, he said. The French  had 10,000 troops, each with an attendant servant who could also fight, plus 4,000 men with crossbows and other fighters – totalling more than 24,000. As French lines broke down under volley after volley of arrows and panic set  in, English archers killed thousands by stabbing them in the neck, eyes,  armpits and groin through gaps in the armour, or bludgeoned the Frenchmen to  death. Against the odds: Agincourt, as portrayed in Kenneth Branagh's film of Shakespeare's Henry V. Instead of an abstract idea of '6,000 men', you suddenly begin to form pictures in your head of what this band of brothers might have looked like. Names are powerfully suggestive, and they give these ordinary heroes a startling, poignant reality.

Among their numbers, we find such good old English names as Robert Smith, archer, serving under Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, and James Barton, man-at-arms, serving under Sir John Dabridgecourt. They came from every shire, we can tell, because often their surnames simply record their place of origin, such as Lancashire lad, Richard of Bolton, or Richard of Kelby, from the tiny hamlet in the county of Lincolnshire, not far from Grantham. From farther afield come more Celtic names such as Thomas Pentryth, surely a Cornishman, and David ap Llewellyn Lloyd, who might just have been Welsh, like many of the heroes of Agincourt. Others are somehow quintessentially medieval, such as Watt Hunter, or Hodgekin Somerton. The priceless muster rolls on which these richly atmospheric names appear survive because busybody bureaucrats were just as active in the Middle Ages as they are today. The English exchequer, which controlled the state finances, wanted to know exactly which soldiers had served where, and so kept scrupulous records. This is why we know now about Lord Despencer, whose military career had started at the age of 12; Sir Thomas Erpingham, who had fought from Scotland to Spanish Castile; and Thomas Gloucestre, whose soldiering lasted an astonishing 43 years, ranging from 'the vasty fields of France', as Shakespeare calls them in Henry V, to the sun-baked plains and valleys of Palestine. Yet it's safe to assume that the redoubtable Thomas Gloucestre never saw combat quite like Agincourt.

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Carnage: A map of Agincourt where  the bloody battle took place. A cold, wet morning, October 25, 1415, St Crispin's Day. The sun edging up over the thickly forested countryside to the east, not far from the River Somme. And in a muddy ploughed field, a small, bedraggled army of Englishmen, waiting for their inevitable end. Henry V had led his men into France back in August, late in the campaigning season. They had besieged and finally captured the port of Harfleur, but it had taken longer than expected. And now it was time to retreat, fast, before the onset of the bitter medieval winter. Their ships were waiting for them at Calais, 280 miles away, and the Channel was becoming rougher by the day in the October storms. Meanwhile, somewhere in the hinterland, a vast French army was gathering. But if they could just make it to Calais and the ships... They came so close. But in mid-October, as they marched north between the little villages of Agincourt and Tramecourt, across some fields hemmed in on either side by thick woodland, they came to a sudden halt.

Across their line of retreat lay a vast French army. They were cut off and vastly outnumbered. Henry commanded about 6,000 men, 5,000 of them only lightly armoured archers. Before them stood an enemy army of some 30,000, ready to fight on their home soil and burning to avenge the previous defeats of Crecy and Poitiers. The flower of arrogant but ferocious French chivalry, pennants fluttering, swords gleaming, knights grimly smiling.

Many of the weary English must have crossed themselves and bowed their heads in the rain when they saw that sight. They must have thought of their loved ones. For there would surely be no going home now. On the eve of battle, the chronicles tell us, many of the English confessed their sins, ready for their deaths on the morrow. Nevertheless, the next day, the Feast of St Crispin, under the inspiration of their great warrior-king, Henry V, they summoned their last reserves of energy and spirit. Outnumbered as they were, they could not hope to attack, only defend. So they set sharpened staves in the soft ground, which would break the French charge and impale their horses. Then they stood shoulder-to-shoulder, butted their long-handled pikes into the earth, and waited for that thunderous onslaught. It never came. The French nobles were quarrelling among themselves about who would charge first. So Henry gave his men the astonishing order, against all the rules of engagement for an outnumbered force. Attack! And the English pulled up their defensive staves and began to march forward. The territory gained proved crucial. Rapidly, the English set up a new line of staves, now only 200yards from the enemy. Well within bowshot. Their men-at-arms stood shoulder-to-shoulder once more, hands clenched white-knuckled around the long ashen shafts of their pikes, raindrops beading on their steel helmets and running down into their eyes, trying not to shake with fear. Along the lines, many faces of beardless boys, some as young as 12. And hanging over them all, the terrible sense of dread before a battle. Gregory More, archer. Thomas Langford, man-at-arms. Sir John Grey, Knight. They would stand or fall together.

Battle: A trained archer could shoot around 15 arrows a minute, so a force of 5,000 could shoot a staggering 1,000 arrows per second. King Henry gave the order and the English bowmen began to drop volley after volley of arrows on to the stationary French. A trained archer could shoot around 15 arrows a minute, so a force of 5,000 could shoot a staggering 1,000 arrows per second. The rain of arrows forced the French to move forward and attack. Since the field was hemmed in by woodland, any attempt at outflanking was impossible. They could only march forward, heavily armoured, through the saturated mud. Crossing even 200 yards in such conditions was exhausting. Some of them sank up to their knees, some even drowned, according to eyewitnesses. And as they approached, that arrow storm from the English longbows became ever more lethal, shooting with a power and accuracy that would be unmatched until the invention of the rifle. At last they reached the English line, and the real fighting began. Men on foot, facing each other with lead-weighted maces, war hammers, bill hooks, falcon-beaks ending in terrible pointed spikes, and pole axes, usually used for killing cattle.

And then it was a matter of bone-crunching, slashing and clubbing your enemy into the mud. Now those horny-handed, barrel-chested ploughmen and blacksmiths from the English shires, wielding little more than glorified clubs, proved themselves more than a match for French chivalry. The left flank under the command of Lord Camoys came under particularly fierce attack from the French. Yet Camoys and his men stood their ground unyielding: men such as Simon Codyngton and John Colmer, Thomas Fitzhenry, and the aptly named John Bold.

A project by the University of Reading, the Medieval Soldier Database, has put online the records of 250,000 soldiers who fought through the Hundred Years War

They fought without mercy, trapped and outnumbered as they were. A second French wave was sent in, but as in the most atrocious scenes of carnage from the trench warfare of World War I - which Agincourt in some ways resembled - the dead bodies of their fallen comrades only made their advance harder. Another key to English survival was the extraordinary fighting spirit of Henry V himself. An elite of 18 French knights, an assassination squad, had sworn to make directly for him across the battlefield and kill him, or die in the attempt. Theydied. All 18 of them, at the very feet of the warrior-king, cut down either by him or his bodyguard. He fought in the front line for much of the day, taking many a blow, one of which demolished part of his crown. And his resolute cries of 'Rally!' and 'Stand firm, men of England!' contributed immeasurably to the victory. Yet along with his encouraging cries there were the sickening sounds of metal bludgeoning into flesh, the screams of horses, men drowning in a quagmire of blood. If a Frenchman fell to the ground, injured or not, he would struggle to rise again in the sucking mud. And in a trice, an Englishman would be kneeling by his side like a ministering angel of death, flipping up his visor and dispatching him with a quick stab of a blade to his eyes. Late in the battle, with the English slowly beginning to feel that they might yet survive and make it back to Calais after all, Henry feared that the French were going to try a final attack from the rear. So he gave orders for all prisoners to be executed, in case they should be freed to fight again. But the French had had enough. Leaving at least 5,000 dead, against an English total of about 120, they fled the field. Last year, French academics accused the English of having committed 'war crimes' at Agincourt. Applying 21st-century standards to the 15th century is the kind of stupidity which only the most eminent French academic could rise to. You might as well complain that the French knights, in their turn, had some simply frightful ideas about the role of women. And as for their views on Jews... The truth is that Agincourt was an astonishing victory, a testament to those centuries- old English qualities of sheer determination and stubborn refusal to acknowledge when we're beaten: a rock on which many more glamorous armies have broken. Indeed, it is precisely because Agincourt was so atrociously unglamorous, so grim and bloody and mud-spattered, that it was so heroic: ordinary and exhausted men, achieving something quite extraordinary. Why the French lost the Battle of Agincourt: Heavy armour made troops too exhausted to fight. It was a large scale medieval-day equivalent of David and Goliath. On the battlefields of Agincourt, the French outnumbered the English by up to six to one with a massive army of 36,000 soldiers. Yet despite their numeric superiority, being better equipped and fighting on home turf the French could not triumph over Henry V and his 6,000 longbow archers, dismounted knights and men-at-arms. They hit problems with their armour which, historians now believe, was their Achilles' heel, making them so exhausted that they were unable to fight. Old meets new: A volunteer in French Medieval armour walks on a running machine. Historians now believe the French lost the Battle Of Agincourt because their heavy armour left them too exhausted to fight. As they advanced across the fields of sticky mud, trampled down by the sheer volume of numbers, their breathing was restricted and tiredness kicked in quickly. Their burden was much greater than the modern soldiers' backpack leading experts to believe that the armour played a decisive role in the 1415 battle. The findings come after scientists from the Royal Armouries, Leeds, monitored four men, aged around 36, who carry out re-enactments using 15th century armour from different countries in Europe. Their oxygen consumption and energy expenditure were measured as they did a range of walking and running exercises in suits weighing between 30 and 50kg. The findings, published today in the journal Proceedings of the Royal Society B, showed that the net energy cost of walking was 2.1 to 2.3 times higher when wearing armour than when not wearing armour while running incurred a 1.9 times higher energy cost. Post-Second World War soldiers can carry a similar weight but, unlike a backpack, armour with interlocking steel plates may have played a part. Researchers from the University of Leeds found that 15th Century knights used twice as much energy as modern soldiers - solely because of the weight of their armour. Dr Graham Askew, lead researcher from the University of Leeds, said: 'We found that carrying this kind of load spread across the body requires a lot more energy than carrying the same weight in a backpack. 'This is because, in a suit of armour, the limbs are loaded with weight, which means it takes more effort to swing them with each stride. 'If you're wearing a backpack, the weight is all in one place and swinging the limbs is easier.' The energy costs associated with wearing armour were higher than those predicted by experiments in which loads are added to different parts of the body. The reason may be due to the impact of armour on breathing, the study suggests.

Rather than taking deeper breaths when they exerted themselves, the four volunteers took larger numbers of shallower breaths. 'Being wrapped in a tight shell of armour may have made soldiers feel safe, but you feel breathless as soon as you begin to move around in medieval armour and this would likely limit a soldier's resistance to fight,' said co-author Dr Federico Formenti, from Oxford University. Heavy armour may not only have contributed to the French defeat at Agincourt, but also at the Battle of Crecy in 1346, experts believe. On this occasion the French knights fought the English and lost after an exhausting march lasting several days. 'Together with numbers and condition of soldiers, equipment availability, battle strategy and terrain, the high energetic cost of movement in armour could have contributed to the outcome of medieval battles,' the scientists wrote.

Retelling: Kenneth Branagh, pictured here in a scene after the Battle Of Agincourt, plays Henry V in the 1989 film of the same name

The numbers are disputed but the French far outnumbered the English on the field and should have had an easy home victory. Henry deployed his fighters across a 750-yard piece of land between the woods of Tramecourt and Agincourt. They had around three hours of sunlight to arrange themselves as the French waited for additional troops to arrive, blocking the return to England. It was Henry that made the first move, creating long spikes to disable the French cavalry and protect his longbowmen who then launched their arrows. In retaliation the mounted knights advanced on the English but it is thought their charge was too late and lacking in numbers, losing control as the arrows rained down on them and churning the ground through which the footsoldiers would then have to trudge. By the time they did reach the longbowmen who had spent all their three million arrows for hand-to-hand fighting they were tired and weary as the mêlée continued until thousands of French had died or had been captured.

 

HOW THE BATTLE UNFOLDED

The French lost around 10,000 men while around 112 English soldiers were killed in the battle On St Crispins Day, 1415, the English army was tired and weary having marched across norhtern France on their way home, led by King Henry V.

 

 

 

 

 

 

On the morning of 25 October the French were still waiting for additional troops to arrive. The Duke of Brabant (about 2,000 men), the Duke of Anjou (about 600 men), and the Duke of Brittany (6,000 men, according to Montstrelet), were all marching to join the army. This left the French with a question of whether or not to advance towards the English. For three hours after sunrise there was no fighting. Military textbooks of the time stated "Everywhere and on all occasions that foot soldiers march against their enemy face to face, those who march lose and those who remain standing still and holding firm win". On top of this, the French were expecting thousands of men to join them if they waited. They were blocking Henry's retreat, and were perfectly happy to wait for as long as it took. There had even been a suggestion that the English would run away rather than give battle when they saw that they would be fighting so many French princes. Henry's men, on the other hand, were already very weary from hunger, illness and marching. Even though he knew as well as the French did that his army would perform better on the defensive, Henry was eventually forced to take a calculated risk, and move his army further forward to start the battle. This entailed pulling out the long stakes pointed outwards toward the enemy which protected the longbowmen, and abandoning his chosen position. (The use of stakes was an innovation for the English: during the Battle of Crécy, for example, the archers were instead protected by pits and other obstacles.) If the French cavalry had charged before the stakes had been hammered back in, the result would probably have been disastrous for the English, as it was at the Battle of Patay. However, the French seem to have been caught off guard by the English advance. The tightness of the terrain also seems to have restricted the planned deployment of their forces. The French had originally drawn up a battle plan that had archers and crossbowmen in front of the men-at-arms, with a cavalry force at the rear specifically designed to "fall upon the archers, and use their force to break them," but in the event, the archers and crossbowmen were deployed behind and to the sides of the men-at-arms (where they seem to have played almost no part, except possibly for an initial volley of arrows at the start of the battle). The cavalry force, which could have devastated the English line if it had attacked while they moved their position, seems to have charged only after the initial volley of arrows from the English. It is unclear whether this is because the French were hoping the English would launch a frontal assault (and were surprised when the English instead started shooting from their new defensive position), or whether the French mounted knights simply did not react fast enough to the English advance. French chroniclers agree that when the mounted charge did come, it did not contain as many men as it should have; Gilles le Bouvier states that some had wandered off to warm themselves and others were walking or feeding their horses. In any case, within extreme bowshot from the French line (approximately 300 yards), the longbowmen dug in their stakes and then opened the engagement with a barrage of arrows. The French cavalry attack The French cavalry, despite being somewhat disorganised and not at full numbers, charged the longbowmen, but it was a disaster, with the French knights unable to outflank the longbowmen (because of the encroaching woodland) and unable to charge through the palings that protected the archers. John Keegan argues that the longbows' main influence on the battle was at this point: armoured only on the head, many horses would have become dangerously out of control when struck in the back or flank from the high-elevation shots used as the charge started. The effect of the mounted charge and then retreat was further to churn up the mud the French had to cross to reach the English. Juliet Barker quotes a contemporary account by a monk of St. Denis who reports how the panicking horses also galloped back through the advancing infantry, scattering them and trampling them down in their headlong flight.The Burgundian sources similarly say that the mounted men-at-arms retreated back into the advancing French vanguard. The main French assault The constable himself led the attack of the dismounted French men-at-arms. French accounts describe their vanguard alone as containing about 5,000 men-at-arms, which would have outnumbered the English men-at-arms by more than 3 to 1, but before they could engage in hand-to-hand fighting they had to cross the muddy field under a bombardment of arrows. The plate armour of the French men-at-arms allowed them to close the 300 yards or so to the English lines while being under what the French monk of Saint Denis described as "a terrifying hail of arrow shot". However they had to lower their visors and bend their heads to avoid being shot in the face (the eye and airholes in their helmets were among the weakest points in the armour), which restricted both their breathing and their vision, and then they had to walk a few hundred yards through thick mud, wearing armour weighing 50–60 pounds. According to contemporary English accounts, Henry was directly involved in the hand-to-hand fighting. Upon hearing that his youngest brotherHumphrey, Duke of Gloucester had been wounded in the groin, Henry took his household guard and stood over his brother, in the front rank of the fighting, until Humphrey could be dragged to safety; the king received an axe blow to the head which knocked off a piece of the crown that formed part of his helmet.   King Henry V at the Battle of Agincourt, 1415, by Sir John Gilbert The French men-at-arms reached the English line and actually pushed it back, with the longbowmen continuing to shoot until they ran out of arrows and then dropping their bows and joining the mêlée, implying that the French were able to walk through a hail of tens of thousands of arrows while taking comparatively few casualties. (Mortimer suggests "about a thousand arrows every second". Henry brought in the region of 130,000 sheaves (i.e. about three million arrows) with him from England at the start of the campaign.) However the physical pounding from thousands of non-penetrating arrows, combined with the slog in heavy armour through the mud, the heat and lack of oxygen in plate armour with the visor down, and the crush of their numbers meant they could "scarcely lift their weapons" when they finally engaged the English line. When the English archers, using hatchets, swords and other weapons, attacked the now disordered and fatigued French, the French could not cope with their unarmoured assailants (who were much less hindered by the mud). The exhausted French men-at-arms are described as having been knocked to the ground and then unable to get back up. As the mêlée developed, the French second line also joined the attack, but they too were swallowed up, with the narrow terrain meaning the extra numbers could not be used effectively, and French men-at-arms were taken prisoner or killed in their thousands. The fighting lasted about three hours, but eventually the leaders of the second line were killed or captured, as those of the first line had been. The English Gesta Henrici describes three great heaps of the slain around the three main English standards.   The attack on the English baggage train The only French success was an attack on the lightly protected English baggage train, with Ysembart d'Azincourt (leading a small number of men-at-arms and varlets plus about 600 peasants) seizing some of Henry's personal treasures, including a crown. Whether this was part of a deliberate French plan or an act of local brigandage is unclear from the sources. Certainly, d'Azincourt was a local knight but he may have been chosen to lead the attack because of his local knowledge and the lack of availability of a more senior soldier. In some accounts the attack happened towards the end of the battle, and led the English to think they were being attacked from the rear. Barker, following the Gesta Henrici, believed to have been written by an English chaplain who was actually in the baggage train, concludes that the attack happened at the start of the battle. Henry orders the killing of the prisoners Regardless of when the baggage assault happened, there was a point after the initial English victory where Henry became alarmed that the French were regrouping for another attack. The Gesta Henrici puts this after the English had overcome the onslaught of the French men-at-arms, and the weary English troops were eyeing the French rearguard ("in incomparable number and still fresh"). Le Fevre and Waurin similarly say that it was signs of the French rearguard regrouping and "marching forward in battle order" which made the English think they were still in danger. In any event, Henry ordered the slaughter of what was perhaps several thousand French prisoners, with only the most illustrious being spared. His fear was that they would rearm themselves with the weapons strewn upon the field, and the exhausted English would be overwhelmed. Though ruthless, it was arguably justifiable given the situation of the battle; perhaps surprisingly, even the French chroniclers do not criticise him for this. This marked the end of the battle, as the French rearguard, having seen so many of the French nobility captured and killed, fled the battlefield. Why the French lost the Battle of Agincourt: Heavy armour made troops too exhausted to fight. It was a large scale medieval-day equivalent of David and Goliath. On the battlefields of Agincourt, the French outnumbered the English by up to six to one with a massive army of 36,000 soldiers. Yet despite their numeric superiority, being better equipped and fighting on home turf the French could not triumph over Henry V and his 6,000 longbow archers, dismounted knights and men-at-arms. They hit problems with their armour which, historians now believe, was their Achilles' heel, making them so exhausted that they were unable to fight. Old meets new: French Burial Ground at Agincourt Aftermath Due to a lack of reliable sources it is impossible to give a precise figure for the French and English casualties. However, it is clear that though the English were outnumbered, their losses were far lower than those of the French. The French sources all give 4,000–10,000 French dead, with up to 1,600 English dead. The lowest ratio in these French sources has the French losing six times more men than the English. The English sources vary between about 1,500 and 11,000 for the French dead, with English dead put at no more than 100. Barker identifies from the available records "at least" 112 Englishmen who died in the fighting (including Edward of Norwich, 2nd Duke of York, a grandson of Edward III), but this excludes the wounded. One widely used estimate puts the English casualties at 450, not an insignificant number in an army of about 8,500, but far fewer than the thousands the French lost, nearly all of whom were killed or captured. Using the lowest French estimate of their own dead of 4,000 would imply a ratio of nearly 9 to 1 in favour of the English, or over 10 to 1 if the prisoners are included. The French suffered heavily. Three dukes, at least eight counts, a viscount and an archbishop died, along with numerous other nobles. Of the great royal office holders, France lost her Constable, Admiral, Master of the Crossbowmen and prévôt of the marshals. The baillis of nine major northern towns were killed, often along with their sons, relatives and supporters. In the words of Juliet Barker, the battle "cut a great swath through the natural leaders of French society in Artois, Ponthieu, Normandy, Picardy."  Estimates of the number of prisoners vary between 700 and 2,200, amongst them the Duke of Orléans (the famous poet Charles d'Orléans) and Jean Le Maingre (known as Boucicault) Marshal of France. Almost all these prisoners would have been nobles, as the less valuable prisoners were slaughtered. Although the victory had been militarily decisive, its impact was complex. It did not lead to further English conquests immediately as Henry's priority was to return to England, which he did on 16 November, to be received in triumph in London on the 23rd. Henry returned a conquering hero, in the eyes of his subjects and European powers outside of France, blessed by God. It established the legitimacy of the Lancastrian monarchy and the future campaigns of Henry to pursue his "rights and privileges" in France. Other benefits to the English were longer term. Very quickly after the battle, the fragile truce between the Armagnac and Burgundian factions broke down. The brunt of the battle had fallen on the Armagnacs and it was they who suffered the majority of senior casualties and carried the blame for the defeat. The Burgundians seized on the opportunity and within 10 days of the battle had mustered their armies and marched on Paris. This lack of unity in France would allow Henry eighteen months to prepare militarily and politically for a renewed campaign. When that campaign took place, it was made easier by the damage done to the political and military structures of Normandy by the battle. It took several years' more campaigning, but Henry was eventually able to fulfil all his objectives. He was recognised by the French in the Treaty of Troyes (1420) as the regent and heir to the French throne. This was cemented by his marriage to Catherine of Valois, the daughter of King Charles VI.

The battle of Agincourt had been particularly damaging for the nobility of the region. After this battle, the English regent John, Duke of Bedford, given the titles of Duke of Anjou and Count of Maine, ordered a systematic conquest, though this was not effected without resistance. At the time of this battle, in September 1423, the English force commanded by William de la Pole, who had returned to Normandy after a pillaging expedition to Anjou and Maine, suffered a crushing defeat. Cousinot reports that "there were great deeds of arms done" and that the English "were beaten in the field and there were fourteen to fifteen hundred killed" William Pole In the month of September 1423, Lord William de la Pole, brother of the earl of Suffolk, left Normandy with 2000 soldiers and 800 archers to go raiding in Maine and Anjou. He seized Segré, and there mustered a huge collection of loot and a herd of 1,200 bulls and cows, before setting off to return to Normandy, taking hostages as he went. To avenge the insult Queen Yolande of Aragon, mother-in-law to Charles VII of France, who was in her town of Angers, had the first thought of avenging the affront and the damage to her county, and gave orders for such a mission to the most valiant of the unlucky French king's partisans, Ambroise de Loré, who had been commander of Sainte-Suzanne since 1422. Knowing that John VIII of Harcourt, count of Aumale and governor of Touraine, Anjou and Maine, was then in Tours and preparing an expedition into Normandy, Amboise despatched a message to Aumale by letter. The governor came in haste to Laval, bringing the troops he had already gathered "and summoning men from all the lands he passed through".   Preparations The promptest and best-armed response came from the baron of Coulonges, whose services were accepted despite his current disgrace with the governor, who merely enjoined Coulonges not to present himself to him. This whole concentration of force was all gathered together very rapidly. D'Aumale had not yet arrived in Laval on Friday 24 September, but set off again as early as the Saturday morning, on his way to take up a position on the road to follow the English, sending scouts to keep an eye on their march and to inform him of it exactly. It was early at the Bourgneuf-la-Forêt, from which he sent word to Anne de Laval at Vitré "to pray her that she would send him the army of her sons, named André of Lohéac, then a young man of twelve years; which she did very willingly, and sent him to accompany it, master Guy XIV de Laval, lord of Mont-Jean, and all the people of the seigneurie of Laval, with several other of their vassals that she could recover and bring in promptly from other parts". Aumale then took counsel from the bastard duke of Alençon, the sire de Mont-Jean, Louis of Trémigon and Ambroise of Loré. He appraised them that the English were three leagues off and that they would pass La Brossinière, following the main road from Brittany, the following Sunday morning. Course of the battle Two hours after the troops had been drawn up in battle order, the English scouts who were giving chase arrived and met the French skirmishers. The scouts ran them down and forced them to withdraw into the line of battle, where they stood their ground. The English could no longer pursue them, since a massed body of cavalry was in front of them, withdrawing towards the count of Aumale; they could only form an arc when the troops unmasked themselves. The English, with a long baggage train but marching in good order, dug in strongly behind defences, behind which they could retire in case of cavalry attack. Trémigon, Loré and Coulonges wanted to make an attempt on the defences, but they were too strong; they turned there and bravely attacked the English in the flank, but were broken and cornered in a large ditch. The infantry moved to the front; the convoy of carts, and troops closed up and tried to escape behind but they were unable to withstand for long. The result was a butchery in which 1,200 to 1,400 men of the English forces perished. The others, including William Pole, Thomas Aubourg and Thomas Cliffeton, fled, though only 120 got away. On the French side, only a single knight was lost, John Le Roux, and "a few others [of no title]" ("peu d'autres"). André of Lohéac, the future marshal, was knighted with several of his companions. The lady of Laval had the dead buried. The victory was a happy augury for the start of Charles VII's reign, and remains a glorious memory for the French

The Chemin de Cocaigne was a Gallo-Roman way restored under the Carolingians, that linked the Cotentin peninsula of what would become Normandy, skirted Brittany and ran eventually beyond Aquitaine to the Gascogne in the southwest. The section called the chemin gravelais ("gravelled road") linked Normandy and Anjou. The route was alluded to as the chemin du Roy (the "King's road") in a document of 1454. For pilgrims to Santiago de Compostela it was one of the feeder routes leading to Poitiers, where it joined the Way of St James beyond the Pyrenees. This route, the only route that was fit for wheeled vehicles, was a long-range commercial link that gained strategic significance in wartime; where it crossed Bourgon at the meadow of Le Pavement, the Battle of La Brossinière was fought along the chemin in September 1423, a victory for French in the Hundred Years' War; the English forces were forced to abandon their baggage train, which had dictated their course with its heavily laden wagons. Parts of the route may be traced today from the north to south,[1] starting from the département de la Mayenne. Even where the road was ploughed up centuries ago, some toponyms may still reveal its former passage. South of La Gravelle the route passed through Le Prtre, near which the hamlets of Saint-Cyr-le-Gravelais (1 km) and Ruillé-le-Gravelais (5.3 km) record the passage of the route, which still may be traced on a paved secondary route leading due south of Le Pertre to the crossroads at Saint-Poix. Two kilometers southeast of Loroux, a place that still bears the name of le Carrefour appears to indicate the intersection with a way that led from Carhaix to Lisieux. The village of La Pellerine recalls the throngs of strangers who passed as pilgrims; half a kilometer to the south is La Gascoignerie, recalling the route's southern destination. Often way-stations sited where roads intersected the main route bear names that indicated the side road's destination. The Chemin de Cocaigne still marks sections of the boundary between the départements of Mayenne and Ille-et-Vilaine, for example the nine-kilometer stretch between Bourgon and the Forêt du Pertre, which formed a buffer in the Middle Ages between Mayenne and Brittany

France was full of rovers--disbanded soldiers ready for anything that might turn up. Several times, at intervals, when Joan's dull captivity grew too heavy to bear, she was allowed to gather a troop of cavalry and make a health-restoring dash against the enemy. These things were a bath to her spirits.
    It was like old times, there at Saint-Pierre-le-Moutier, to see her lead assault after assault, be driven back again and again, but always rally and charge anew, all in a blaze of eagerness and delight; till at last the tempest of missiles rained so intolerably thick that old D'Aulon, who was wounded, sounded the retreat (for the King had charged him on his head to let no harm come to Joan); and away everybody rushed after him--as he supposed; but when he turned and looked, there were we of the staff still hammering away; wherefore he rode back and urged her to come, saying she was mad to stay there with only a dozen men. Her eye danced merrily, and she turned upon him crying out:
    "A dozen men! name of God, I have fifty-thousand, and will never budge till this place is taken!
    "Sound the charge!"
    Which he did, and over the walls we went, and the fortress was ours. Old D'Aulon thought her mind was wandering; but all she meant was, that she felt the might of fifty thousand men surging in her heart. It was a fanciful expression; but, to my thinking, truer word was never said.
    Then there was the affair near Lagny, where we charged the intrenched Burgundians through the open field four times, the last time victoriously; the best prize of it Franquet d'Arras, the free-booter and pitiless scourge of the region roundabout.
Now and then other such affairs; and at last, away toward the end of May, 1430, we were in the neighborhood of Compiegne, and Joan resolved to go to the help of that place, which was being besieged by the Duke of Burgundy.
    I had been wounded lately, and was not able to ride without help; but the good Dwarf took me on behind him, and I held on to him and was safe enough. We started at midnight, in a sullen downpour of warm rain, and went slowly and softly and in dead silence, for we had to slip through the enemy's lines. We were challenged only once; we made no answer, but held our breath and crept steadily and stealthily along, and got through without any accident. About three or half past we reached Compiegne, just as the gray dawn was breaking in the east.
    Joan set to work at once, and concerted a plan with Guillaume de Flavy, captain of the city--a plan for a sortie toward evening against the enemy, who was posted in three bodies on the other side of the Oise, in the level plain. From our side one of the city gates communicated with a bridge. The end of this bridge was defended on the other side of the river by one of those fortresses called a boulevard; and this boulevard also commanded a raised road, which stretched from its front across the plain to the village of Marguy. A force of Burgundians occupied Marguy; another was camped at Clairoix, a couple of miles above the raised road; and a body of English was holding Venette, a mile and a half below it. A kind of bow-and-arrow arrangement, you see; the causeway the arrow, the boulevard at the feather-end of it, Marguy at the barb, Venette at one end of the bow, Clairoix at the other.
    Joan's plan was to go straight per causeway against Marguy, carry it by assault, then turn swiftly upon Clairoix, up to the right, and capture that camp in the same way, then face to the rear and be ready for heavy work, for the Duke of Burgundy lay behind Clairoix with a reserve. Flavy's lieutenant, with archers and the artillery of the boulevard, was to keep the English troops from coming up from below and seizing the causeway and cutting off Joan's retreat in case she should have to make one. Also, a fleet of covered boats was to be stationed near the boulevard as an additional help in case a retreat should become necessary.
    It was the 24th of May. At four in the afternoon Joan moved out at the head of six hundred cavalry--on her last march in this life!
    It breaks my heart. I had got myself helped up onto the walls, and from there I saw much that happened, the rest was told me long afterward by our two knights and other eye-witnesses. Joan crossed the bridge, and soon left the boulevard behind her and went skimming away over the raised road with her horsemen clattering at her heels. She had on a brilliant silver-gilt cape over her armor, and I could see it flap and flare and rise and fall like a little patch of white flame.
    It was a bright day, and one could see far and wide over that plain. Soon we saw the English force advancing, swiftly and in handsome order, the sunlight flashing from its arms.
    Joan crashed into the Burgundians at Marguy and was repulsed. Then she saw the other Burgundians moving down from Clairoix. Joan rallied her men and charged again, and was again rolled back. Two assaults occupy a good deal of time--and time was precious here. The English were approaching the road now from Venette, but the boulevard opened fire on them and they were checked. Joan heartened her men with inspiring words and led them to the charge again in great style. This time she carried Marguy with a hurrah. Then she turned at once to the right and plunged into the plan and struck the Clairoix force, which was just arriving; then there was heavy work, and plenty of it, the two armies hurling each other backward turn about and about, and victory inclining first to the one, then to the other. Now all of a sudden thee was a panic on our side. Some say one thing caused it, some another. Some say the cannonade made our front ranks think retreat was being cut off by the English, some say the rear ranks got the idea that Joan was killed. Anyway our men broke, and went flying in a wild rout for the causeway. Joan tried to rally them and face them around, crying to them that victory was sure, but it did no good, they divided and swept by her like a wave. Old D'Aulon begged her to retreat while there was yet a chance for safety, but she refused; so he seized her horse's bridle and bore her along with the wreck and ruin in spite of herself. And so along the causeway they came swarming, that wild confusion of frenzied men and horses--and the artillery had to stop firing, of course; consequently the English and Burgundians closed in in safety, the former in front, the latter behind their prey. Clear to the boulevard the French were washed in this enveloping inundation; and there, cornered in an angle formed by the flank of the boulevard and the slope of the causeway, they bravely fought a hopeless fight, and sank down one by one.
    Flavy, watching from the city wall, ordered the gate to be closed and the drawbridge raised. This shut Joan out.     The little personal guard around her thinned swiftly. Both of our good knights went down disabled; Joan's two brothers fell wounded; then Noel Rainguesson--all wounded while loyally sheltering Joan from blows aimed at her. When only the Dwarf and the Paladin were left, they would not give up, but stood their ground stoutly, a pair of steel towers streaked and splashed with blood; and where the ax of one fell, and the sword of the other, an enemy gasped and died.
    And so fighting, and loyal to their duty to the last, good simple souls, they came to their honorable end. Peace to their memories! they were very dear to me.
    Then there was a cheer and a rush, and Joan, still defiant, still laying about her with her sword, was seized by her cape and dragged from her horse. She was borne away a prisoner to the Duke of Burgundy's camp, and after her followed the victorious army roaring its joy.
    The awful news started instantly on its round; from lip to lip it flew; and wherever it came it struck the people as with a sort of paralysis; and they murmured over and over again, as if they were talking to themselves, or in their sleep, "The Maid of Orleans taken! . . . Joan of Arc a prisoner! . . . the savior of France lost to us!"--and would keep saying that over, as if they couldn't understand how it could be, or how God could permit it, poor creatures!
    You know what a city is like when it is hung from eaves to pavement with rustling black? Then you know what Rouse was like, and some other cities. But can any man tell you what the mourning in the hearts of the peasantry of France was like? No, nobody can tell you that, and, poor dumb things, they could not have told you themselves, but it was there--indeed, yes. Why, it was the spirit of a whole nation hung with crape!
    The 24th of May. We will draw down the curtain now upon the most strange, and pathetic, and wonderful military drama that has been played upon the stage of the world. Joan of Arc will march no more.

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