One
man
only
seemed
unable
to
take
part
in
the
general
rejoicing: the
King
himself.
Just
as
he
had
at
his
coronation,
he
seemed
withdrawn and
preoccupied:
not
once
during
the
five-hour
journey
from
Black-heath
to
Westminster
was
he
seen
to
smile.
He
had
made
it
clear
from the
outset
that
he
would
accept
no
credit
for
the
victory,
which
belonged to
God
alone
-
he
would
not
even
allow
his
battered
helmet
and
armour
to be displayed to the crowds - but there was more to his grimness than mere modesty. Was he perhaps wondering how much he had really achieved, what had been the true value of the prize for which the crown jewels were in pawn and some
3,000
men, at Harfleur and at Agincourt, had given their lives? He had won a great battle, certainly; but he had not won the war. The force that he had destroyed, considerable as it might have been, was by no means the whole French army: several thousand men remained at Rouen under the command of the Duke of Berry. Meanwhile John the Fearless of
Burgundy had contrived to keep his own forces intact; he had not declared himself one way or the other, and if he chose he could prove a deadly enemy. As for the English army, it was now little more than a ghost of what it once had been. So far Henry had proved luckier than he had either expected or deserved; how long, however, would his luck hold?
burgundy.
. . . let it not disgrace me
If I demand before this royal view What rub or what impediment there is Why that the naked, poor and mangled peace, Dear nurse of arts, plenties and joyful births, Should not in this best garden of the world, Our fertile France, put up her lovely visage? Alas, she hath from France too long been chased, And all her husbandry doth lie on heaps, Corrupting in its own fertility.
king henry v
The months that followed the battle of Agincourt seemed to justify the King's worst fears. On
29
November
1415
Charles VI and the Dauphin entered Paris; almost immediately, however, the Duke of Burgundy advanced with his army on the city and in little more than a fortnight had reached Lagny, only sixteen miles away. Then, on
18
December, Henry received a report that changed the entire situation: after a long illness aggravated by his excesses, the Dauphin had died in his twentieth year. His brother and successor, John, was married to the Duke's niece and living in Burgundian territory; the Duke, his position immeasurably strengthened, withdrew at once to Flanders. Three months later in March
1416
the Earl of Dorset, who had been left in charge at Harfleur, set off on a raiding expedition along the coast and was almost trapped by the Count of Armagnac — now Constable of France in succession to d'Albret—at Valmont, near Fecamp. Though himself
badly wounded, he and his men succeeded in marching the twenty miles back to the port, and even in inflicting a small though dramatic defeat on the French cavalry who caught up with them at da
wn, just outside the walls; but
the
incident
had
very
nearly
ended
in
disaster,
and
gave
yet
further proof
of
the
precariousness
of
the
English
hold
on
Normandy.
Furious
at
this
last-minute
reversal,
Armagnac
now
acquired
a
number of
ships
from
Genoa
and
Castile
and,
having
first
launched
for
good measure
one
or
two
raids
on
Portsmouth
and
the
Isle
of
Wight, established
a
total
blockade
of
Harfleur
by
land
and
sea.
Before
many weeks
had
passed
famine
began
to
threaten
the
town
and
Henry,
now seriously
alarmed,
sent
offan
expedition
of
10,000
men
under
his
brother the
Duke
of
Bedford,
who
on
15
August,
in
an
extraordinary
seven-hour naval
battle
at
the
mouth
of
the
Seine,
soundly
defeated
the
blockading fleet.
Four
of
the
huge
Genoese
carracks
were
sunk,
and
five
other vessels
were
taken
as
prizes.
The
King
had
not
led
this
last
expedition
himself
for
a
very
good reason:
he
was
entertaining
the
Holy
Roman
Emperor,
Sigismund
of Luxemburg.
1
Sigismund
-
the
uncle
of
Richard
II's
first
wife
Anne
of Bohemia
-
despite
his
reputation
for
cruelty
and
an
insatiable
appetite for
women,
took
his
imperial
responsibilities
seriously:
he
was
determined
on
the
one
hand
to
heal
the
papal
schism
-
to
which
end
he
had called
a
General
Council
of
the
Church
at
Constance
-
and
on
the other
to
settle
the
differences
between
France
and
England
in
preparation for
a
united
front
against
the
infidel.
Henry,
ever
ambitious
to
cut
a dash
on
the
European
stage,
had
had
a
representative
at
Constance
from the
start.
(He
had,
incidentally,
raised
no
protest
when
Sigismund, having
promised
John
Hus
safe
conduct
to
the
city,
had
had
him arrested,
condemned
and
burnt
at
the
stake.)
Where
the
Emperor's second
objective
was
concerned,
he
was
still
more
interested:
with careful
handling,
Sigismund
might
be
converted
into
a
valuable
ally. Three
hundred
English
ships
were
sent
to
welcome
him
at
Calais
and, on
30
April,
to
escort
him
across
the
Channel;
and
the
King
himself, with
a
retinue
of
5,000,
received
him
a
mile
outside
London
and accompanied
him
to
the
Palace
of
Westminster,
which
had
been
put at
his
disposal
for
the
duration
of
his
visit.
The
Emperor
remained
in
England
for
no
less
than
four
months,
during
which
Henry
achieved
all
that
he
could
have
hoped,
persuading him
of
the
justice
of
the
English
claims
on
France
and
concluding
with him
an
offensive
and
defensive
alliance
which
was
sealed
at
Canterbury on
1
5
August
-
the
very
day
of
the
battle
of
the
Seine.
In
a
final effort
to
preserve
the
peace,
the
two
monarchs
then
invited
both
the Armagnacs
and
the
Burgundians
to
a
conference
at
Calais
in
September. Littl
e
was
achieved
-
there
was
too
much
distrust
among
all
the
parties -
but
to
Henry
it
hardly
mattered:
the
imperial
alliance
had
greatly strengthened
his
hand,
and
he
returned
home
at
the
end
of
October well
satisfied
with
what
he
had
done.