by Teresa Cole
On the day before Easter while camped near the town of Vieil-Baugé he was informed that the combined Franco-Scottish force was not far away. At the time a major part of his force, including all the archers, were scattered about the countryside foraging for food and plunder. If the next day had not been Easter Sunday, the holiest day of the year, when fighting was out of the question, Clarence might have listened to the advice of the Earl of Salisbury and Sir Gilbert Umphraville to assemble his forces and draw up a proper battle formation before engaging the enemy. Instead he allegedly told Umphraville, ‘If you are afraid go home and keep the church yard. For you have been with the king too long to make me lose my reputation and my name; you have always gained a reputation and I have none, so you would lose me fame by inaction.’ Then, instructing Salisbury to collect up the men and follow, he set off at once in pursuit of a glory to match that of his brother.
His force of at most 1,500 mounted men was initially held up at a river crossing by a small group of French and Scots. Then, when they had forced a passage they found themselves facing some five thousand in full battle array. In tactics it was the reverse of Agincourt. Apparently Clarence and his few horsemen with no support attempted a cavalry charge on dismounted men-at-arms and archers. Once again the modern tactics prevailed. Not only was Clarence killed, but alongside him Sir Gilbert Umphraville, who despite his forebodings had refused to let him go to his death alone, and Lord Roos, another seasoned campaigner. The arrival of the Earl of Salisbury with archers and men-at-arms retrieved some part of the English losses, but the Earl of Huntingdon and John Beaufort, Earl of Somerset, were among those taken prisoner. Worst of all, perhaps, was the damage to the reputation of the English army which was now seen to be less than invincible, at least when not led by the English king.
All the chronicles make much of the fact that Henry was not panicked by this news, indeed he kept it to himself for twenty-four hours while no doubt considering what was best to be done about it. Nor did he immediately rush back to France or even to London. Continuing with his tour, he and the now-pregnant Katherine visited Lincoln, King’s Lynn and Norwich, with an excursion to make offerings at the important shrine at Walsingham, before returning to the capital in time for the meeting of Parliament.
It is likely that the king had always meant to return to France quite soon. He had, after all, substantial unfinished business there. What he needed now was men and money, and probably he had been prospecting for both in the course of his tour of England. Certainly he made no request for any extra subsidy from Parliament, instead obtaining what he needed by loans. This gave Bishop Henry Beaufort an opportunity to re-establish his loyalty and dispel the coolness that had arisen between him and the king since the spring of 1418.
The cause of this, probably unwittingly, was the Pope, Martin V. No doubt in gratitude for the bishop’s role in obtaining his election, in December 1417 he appointed him not only cardinal and personal legate in England, but also confirmed his position as Bishop of Winchester. This put Henry Chichele, the Archbishop of Canterbury, in a very awkward position as he pointed out to the king early in 1418. As cardinal, Beaufort would outrank him, whereas as Bishop of Winchester he was subject to the archbishop’s authority. The position was untenable. The king agreed and told Bishop Henry in no uncertain terms that he must not accept the appointment.
There was never a suggestion that the bishop might defy his king, but it was the first discordant note between the two in ten years of working together, and Bishop Henry had been doing all he could to mend the situation. Now, despite still having large loans unpaid from earlier campaigns, he made by far the largest single contribution to the current needs, more than eight times greater than the next largest, which came from the city of London.
On 9 June Henry set sail from Dover, having made a new will as he had on each previous campaign. With him were the Duke of Gloucester, King James of Scotland, the earls of Warwick and March and some four thousand men. Once again John of Bedford was left in charge in England. It is at this point that one of the contemporary chronicles ends, and the last few sentences are full of foreboding for the future. ‘Our Lord the King, after stripping every man throughout the realm who has money, now returns to France. Woe is me! Great men and the treasure of the realm will be foredone about this business … I pray that my liege lord may not become partaker, along with Caesar and Alexander … of the sword of the wrath of the Lord.’
Arriving in France, even after so short an absence Henry found the atmosphere had changed. The victory at Baugé had put new life into the Dauphinists and encouraged others to give them support. In May a treaty was signed with the Duke of Brittany and as a result Henry could no longer rely on peace on his western border. Nor was the Burgundian alliance as strong as formerly. There had been trouble in Artois and Picardy, where the Treaty of Troyes had not gone down well, and although the new duke was probably easier to deal with than his father, relations between Henry and Philippe were also strained at the time.
The cause of this, Jacqueline of Hainault, was a niece of Philippe and sole heiress of William of Holland, who had died in 1417. Married off to her cousin the Duke of Brabant, a secure Burgundian supporter, she had soon decided her husband was not to her taste and left him to seek protection in the court of Henry V. Now she was actively petitioning for an annulment of the marriage, first to Martin V, and when that failed, applying to the disgraced ‘pope’ Benedict, still living in Spain. Despite requests, Henry had refused to return her to her husband, though his stance on this was not helping the unity of his cause.
Meeting with the duke, it was decided that Philippe would concentrate on restoring peace to Picardy while Henry would take his forces to tackle those of the Dauphinists who were now besieging Chartres. Once again it was hoped that the enemy might be brought to a pitched battle to allow the ‘judgement of God’ – which Henry was sure would be in his favour – to settle the whole matter.
Marching towards Chartres, the king paused at Paris to consult with his captain there, the Duke of Exeter, and to meet with Charles VI on whose behalf he was supposedly acting. It was reported that the town of Dreux to the west of Paris, which was held for the Dauphinists, had been causing problems for the capital, so that became the first target of the new campaign.
Dreux was besieged on 18 July and intensely bombarded, surrendering on 20 August. Then, having cleared the countryside around, Henry marched on towards Chartres. Once again the Dauphin was not prepared to face a second Agincourt and the besiegers melted away across the Loire where, try as he might, he could not get at them. The crossing was solidly held against him at Beaugency, and when he passed on to Orleans he found the town well fortified and prepared, and soon decided he had not the men and equipment he would need to carry out a successful siege. By this time the Dauphin had retreated even further to Tours and it was clear Henry had little chance of catching him and even less of bringing him to battle.
At this point, campaigning deep into France, it may well be that Henry was also experiencing problems of supply. In Normandy he had made great use of the rivers to bring men, provisions and equipment close to where he needed them, but now all this had to be brought a considerable distance overland. Possibly looking ahead to the vast areas of France he still had to bring under his control he might have had the first qualms about what he was attempting to do – or maybe, being Henry, he simply took the thought away with him as a logistical problem to be solved when the time came.
Returning to Paris, he soon set about a more immediate target. The town of Meaux, roughly thirty miles to the east of the capital, straddled a horseshoe bend in the River Marne. It was another of the pockets of Dauphinist support in the region, and replacing the enemy garrison with a friendly one would greatly increase the security of the whole area. Forcing a surrender, however, would be no easy task.
The town lay on the outside of the horseshoe to the north, and while this was well fortified and defended there was also an inner March�
�, effectively on an island since a canal had been dug across the neck of land to join the two sides of the bend. The garrison was headed by the so-called Bastard of Vaurus, more robber-baron than army commander but unscrupulous and effective in either role. Neither he nor the Scots and Irish in his garrison could expect any mercy from the English king, and so it was in their interest to hold out as long as possible in the hope of relief or of simply outlasting the will of the besiegers.
The siege began on 6 October. Henry had done winter sieges before and was not unduly bothered by the lateness of the season. This time, though, the weather was against him. An unusually wet autumn and winter caused the river to flood, not only making it extremely difficult to maintain the siege, but also bringing about the same result as at Harfleur. Sickness once again spread through the camp of the besiegers.
It has been estimated that one in six of the English troops died at Meaux. Dysentery and rheumatic fever were the main causes, but the weather and a cut in rations due to supply problems would have made a contribution. Men died there that had survived Harfleur and Agincourt. Nor was sickness the only factor. While Henry daily bombarded the walls of the town, those inside fired back using some of the latest and best artillery pieces. The seventeen-year-old son of Sir John Cornwaille was beheaded by a gunstone while standing beside his father – who soon afterwards renounced all war and departed for home.
Morale was low. Even Cornwaille is reputed to have said they should have been satisfied with Normandy instead of grasping at France. Henry, however, was determined to see it through. Then in December came news that must have cheered them. On the sixth of that month, Queen Katherine had been safely delivered of a son at Windsor Castle. Christened Henry, his godparents were the king’s brother John, Bishop Henry Beaufort and Jacqueline of Hainault. It seemed the Lancastrian succession was secured for another generation.
As the siege dragged on towards the New Year, Henry sent ambassadors to his brother-in-law the Duke of Bavaria and to the Emperor Sigismund dropping heavy hints that he could do with more men to help bring the siege and the war itself to an end. There is little doubt that he felt Sigismund had not lived up to his obligations under the Treaty of Canterbury – but likely the Emperor felt the same about him.
In the end it was the Duke of Burgundy who provided reinforcements. The town of Meaux fell in March and the Marché a few weeks later on 10 May. The siege has been called Henry’s finest military achievement and his greatest display of leadership but its consequences were to be far-reaching.
Initially things seemed set fair to improve. The impact of the surrender of Meaux was such that another Dauphinist stronghold, Compiègne, surrendered at the same time, and a number of the French nobility changed allegiance and accepted the Treaty of Troyes. The terms imposed on Meaux were harsher than usual. Four men were hanged, including the Bastard of Vaurus and, with uncharacteristic vindictiveness, a trumpeter who had blared defiance at the king from the walls of the town. Large numbers of prisoners were taken, to be spread around castles all over England and north Wales while awaiting their ransoms. There was also, apparently, great wealth deposited in the town which was appropriated by the victors as some recompense for their labours.
This time, however, the king had not escaped unscathed from the dangers of the long siege. The king was ill. Though some have suggested the illness might date back as far as the siege of Melun the previous year, the first indication that something was wrong had come in late December 1421 when a doctor was sent from England to minister to him. Henry had been lodged quite comfortably away from the siege camp, but he would have visited regularly if not daily to conduct operations. It is most likely that the illness that struck him was the same as was carrying off men by the hundred in that unhealthy situation. Dysentery, most likely amoebic dysentery, is the usual diagnosis, and in the aftermath of the siege it was clear the king was struggling to regain his normal robust health.
On 26 May Queen Katherine came over from England, though leaving the baby prince behind in the care of his nurses. This was not a mercy dash to the bed of a sick man but a planned visit, accompanied by John of Bedford who was changing places with his brother Humphrey. At the time, in fact, Henry seemed to be improving and the expectation was that the summer weather would help restore him to full fitness. In the meantime, as well as welcoming his wife he was busy meeting with Philippe of Burgundy and his loyal commanders and making plans for the future.
The king and queen spent Whitsun together in Paris before their court and the French king’s court moved together to Senlis. By July, though, it was clear there was no improvement in Henry’s health, rather the reverse. Descriptions of the king at the time say he was emaciated and unable to eat or sleep properly. Some put this down to simple exhaustion after so many years of hard campaigning, but the problem was deeper than that.
In that same month the Dauphin, his army stiffened not only by French but by doughty Scottish fighters, was emboldened to make an attack on the town of Cosne on the edges of the duchy of Burgundy. Once again it seemed it might be possible to face him in the field for one decisive battle and Henry immediately set about assembling an army of his own, boosted by the thousand or so men Bedford had brought with him.
Of course Henry, their talisman, was to lead them, but when it came to the time he failed to set off with them. Instead he sent them ahead to Melun, promising to join them in a few days and indeed made a valiant attempt to do so. He was unable to sit a horse, however, and soon was being carried in a litter as far as Corbeil where it became obvious he could go no further. Bedford and Warwick were dispatched to Cosne in his place, and the king, after resting for some while, was transported down the Seine by boat as far as Charenton near Paris, and then carried to the nearby castle of Vincennes, his favourite residence in France.
Over the next three weeks the life slowly drained away from the king, though he seems to have been clear-headed to the end. He is last recorded as having taken part in government on 6 August, but on the 26th he was able to review and add a codicil to his will, clarifying certain points and particularly providing for his infant son who had not been born at the time the will was drawn up. Bedford, Exeter and Warwick were recalled from the operations in the south to attend the dying king’s bedside, but there is no record of his wife being present and nor was she given any particular role under the terms of his will.
On 31 August it seemed the king was slipping away. Prayers were said and psalms sung around his bed, and once he roused himself to say that it had been his intention, when he had achieved his ambition in France, to travel to Jerusalem and reclaim the holy places for Christianity.
Then, according to one account, ‘when he laboured in his last moments he cried out, “Thou liest! Thou liest! My portion is with the Lord Jesus Christ!” as if he spoke boldly to an evil spirit’. If true it might be the first evidence of self-doubt ever shown publicly by the king. After this, clasping the crucifix between his hands, he prayed, ‘Into thy hands, Lord …’ and passed away, ‘perfectly and devoutly … in the tenth year of his reign’.
12
LEGACY
The king was dead. Henry the Conqueror as the French called him was dead. As the news spread across two kingdoms the initial feeling must have been one of shock. Against all probability the strong, energetic English king had predeceased his fifty-three-year-old incapable father-in-law – and his heir, now King of England and regent and heir of France, was a baby not yet nine months old. Though the death had not been abrupt and there had been time for both Henry and his followers to contemplate the future and make arrangements for what was to follow, still the outcome was never likely to be completely satisfactory.
It took some time for the body to be returned to England and the journey was slow and stately, planned in detail by John of Bedford so that all on the way might be impressed at the passing of the king. Despite some stories that suggest the corpse was dismembered and boiled, as if it had died on a remote battlefield, it
is generally accepted that it was embalmed and sealed in a lead-lined coffin. There was plenty of time for such a procedure and all the materials necessary would have been to hand. In general the entrails would be removed and buried separately and there was some excitement in 1978 when it was thought that a pot dug up in a nearby church might contain these remains of the king. In fact it proved otherwise, and indeed one account has suggested that the body was so utterly emaciated at death that this stage in the process might not have been necessary.
A life-sized effigy of the king was made, dressed in royal robes and laid above the coffin, with a crown on its head and sceptre and orb in its hands. Then finally, a fortnight after the death, the funeral cortège set out from Vincennes. Accompanied by the dukes of Bedford and Exeter, King James of Scotland and Philippe of Burgundy, it bypassed Paris and arrived first in Saint-Denis (the resting place of the kings of France) where a service for the dead was held.
Travelling on by river, it reached Rouen on 19 September to be greeted by the tolling of bells and a great procession of clergy, citizens and Englishmen, all in black, all bearing torches and intoning dirges. The coffin rested overnight in the cathedral and then was taken to the castle where soon after Queen Katherine arrived, escorted by the Duke of Bedford and accompanied by a large number of carts containing the effects of the late king.
For some days the coffin remained at Rouen, presumably to allow time for all those in the area to pay their respects. Many of these, including Bedford himself, had responsibilities that would not allow them to accompany their king home to England.