Wilhelm Hauff - "Maerchen Almanach auf das Jahr 1827"

Various - "Notes and Queries, Number 189, June 11, 1853"

Sir Richard Henry Bonnycastle - "Canada and the Canadians"

various various - "The Belgian Cookbook"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

At Agincourt

G >> G. A. Henty >> At Agincourt




So accurate was the aim of the archers, that most of the arrows struck the
knights on their helmets and vizors. Many fell shot through the brain, and
so terrible was the rain of arrows that all had to bend down their heads
so as to save their faces. Many of the archers, too, shot at the horses;
some of these were killed and many wounded, and the latter swerving and
turning aside added to the confusion. And when at length Sir Clugnet and
the leaders reached the line of stakes in front of the archers, only about
a hundred and fifty of the twelve hundred men were behind them.

The horses drew up on reaching the hedge of stakes. Their riders could
give them no guidance, for without deigning to move from their order the
archers continued to keep up their storm of arrows, which at such close
quarters pierced all but the very finest armour, while it was certain
death to the knights to raise their heads to get a glance at the
situation. The horses, maddened with the pain of the arrows, soon settled
the matter. Some turned and rushed off madly, carrying confusion into the
ranks of the first division, others galloped off to the right or left, and
of the twelve hundred men who charged, three only broke through the line
of stakes, and these were instantly killed by the bill-hooks and axes of
the archers.

The second line of battle was now in disorder, broken by the fugitive men
and horses of Sir Clugnet's party, smitten with the arrows to which they
had been exposed as that party melted away, and by those of the English
archers in the wood on their flank. The confusion heightened every moment
as wounded knights tried to withdraw from the fight, and others from
behind struggled to take their places in front. Soon the disorder became
terrible. The archers plucked up their stakes and ran forward; the French
line recoiled at their approach in order to get into fairer order; and the
archers, with loud shouts of victory, slung their bows behind them,
dropped the stakes, and with axe and bill-hook rushed at the horsemen.
These were too tightly wedged together to use their lances, and as they
had retired they had come into newly-ploughed ground, which had been so
soaked by the heavy rain that the horses sank in the deep mud to their
knees, many almost to their bellies. Into the midst of this helpless crowd
of armed men the English archers burst. Embarrassed by their struggling
horses, scarcely able to wield their arms in the press, seeing but
scantily, and that only in front through the narrow slits of their vizors,
the chivalry of France died almost unresistingly.

The Constable of France and many of the highest nobles and most
distinguished knights fell, and but few of the first line made their
escape: these, passing through the second division, in order to draw up
behind, threw this also into some confusion. The Duke de Brabant, who had
just arrived on the field, charged down upon the flank of the archers.
These met him fearlessly, and he and most of those with him were killed.
This fight had, however, given time to the second division to close up
their ranks. The archers would have attacked them, but the king caused the
signal for them to halt to be sounded, and riding up formed them in order
again. The French were unable to take advantage of the moment to try and
recover their lost ground, for the horses were knee-deep in the ground,
upon which they had all night been trampling, and into which the weight of
their own and their riders' armour sunk them deeply.

"Now, my lords," the king said, turning to those around him, "our brave
archers have done their share; it is our turn;" and then, as arranged, all
dismounted and marched forward against the enemy.

In accordance with his orders, Sir Eustace de Villeroy and Guy were posted
close to the king, while John Harpen led the men-at-arms from Summerley.
For a time the battle raged fiercely. In the centre fought the king with
his nobles and knights; while the archers, who had most of them thrown off
their shoes and were able to move lightly over the treacherous ground,
threw themselves upon the enemy's flanks, and did dreadful execution
there. In the centre, however, the progress of the English was slower. The
French knights made the most desperate efforts to attack the king himself,
and pressed forward to reach the royal banner. His brother, the Duke of
Clarence, was wounded, and would have been killed had not the king
himself, with a few of his knights, taken post around him, and kept off
the attacks of his foes until he recovered his feet. Almost immediately
afterwards a band of eighteen knights, under the banner of the Lord of
Croye, who had bound themselves by an oath to take or kill the king,
charged down upon him. One of them struck him so heavy a blow on the head
with a mace that the king was beaten to his knee, but his knights closed
in round him, and every one of his assailants was killed.

The Duke of Alencon next charged down with a strong following; he cut his
way to the royal standard, and struck the Duke of York dead with a blow of
his battle-axe. Henry sprung forward, but Alencon's weapon again fell, and
striking him on the head clipped off a portion of the crown which Henry
wore round his helmet. But before the French knight could repeat the
stroke Guy Aylmer sprung forward and struck so heavy a blow full on the
duke's vizor that he fell from his horse dead. His fall completed the
confusion and dismay among the French, and the second division of their
army, which had hitherto fought gallantly, now gave way. Many were taken
prisoners. The third division, although alone vastly superior in numbers
to the English, seeing the destruction of the others, began to draw off.
They had moved but a short distance when loud shouts were heard in the
English rear. Two or three French knights, with a body of several hundred
armed peasants, had suddenly fallen upon the English baggage and horses
which had been left at Maisoncelles. Many of the guard had gone off to
join in the battle, so that the attack was successful, a portion of the
baggage, including the king's own wardrobe, and a great number of horses
being captured.

Ignorant of the strength of the attacking party, Henry believed that it
was the reinforcements under the Duke of Brittany that had come up. At the
same moment the third division of the French, whose leaders were also
similarly deceived, halted and faced round. Believing that he was about to
be attacked in front and rear by greatly superior forces, Henry gave the
order that all prisoners should be killed, and the order was to a great
extent executed before the real nature of the attack was discovered and
the order countermanded. The third division of the French now continued
its retreat, and the battle was over. There remained but to examine the
field and see who had fallen.

The king gave at once the name of Agincourt to the battle, as this village
possessed a castle, and was therefore the most important of those near
which the fight had taken place. Properly the name should have been
Azincourt, as this was the French spelling of the village. The loss of the
French was terrible, and their chivalry had suffered even more than at
Poitiers. Several of the relations of the French king were killed. The
Duke of Brabant, the Count de Nevers, the Duke of Bar and his two
brothers, the constable, and the Duke of Alencon all perished. No less
than a hundred and twenty great lords were killed, and eight thousand
nobles, knights, and esquires lost their lives, with some thousands of
lower degree, while the Duke of Orleans, the Duke of Bourbon, and many
others were taken prisoners.

The accounts of the English loss differ considerably, the highest placing
it at sixteen hundred, the lowest at one-fourth of that number. The
plunder taken by them in the shape of costly armour, arms, rich garments,
and the trappings of horses, was great; but of food there was but little,
many of the victors lay down supperless around the village of
Maisoncelles.

The knights who had led the peasants to the attack of the baggage-train,
instead of joining in the fight, and had thereby caused the unfortunate
massacre of so many prisoners, fell into great disgrace among the French
for their conduct, and were imprisoned for some years by the Duke of
Burgundy.

That evening the English king knighted many esquires and aspirants of
noble families, among them Guy Aylmer, who was indeed the first to receive
the honour.

"No one fought more bravely than you did, young knight," he said, as Guy
rose to his feet after receiving the accolade; "I will see that you have
lands to support your new dignity. Twice you were at my side when I was in
the greatest danger, and none have won their spurs more fairly."

John Harpen would also have been among those knighted, but he declined the
honour, saying that he was not come of gentle blood, and wished for
nothing better than to remain his lord's esquire so long as he had
strength to follow him in the field.

The next morning the army marched to Calais. The king turned aside with
Sir Eustace, and with a strong party rode to Villeroy. Guy had gone on
with the men-at-arms at daybreak, and a banquet had been prepared, and
twenty cartloads of grain and a hundred bullocks sent off to meet the army
on its march.

"'Tis a fine castle, Sir Eustace," the king said as he rode in, "but truly
it is perilously situated. If after this I can make good terms with France
I will see that the border shall run outside your estates; but if not,
methinks that it were best for you to treat with some French noble for its
sale, and I will see that you are equally well bestowed in England, for in
truth, after fighting for us at Agincourt, you are like to have but little
peace here."

"I would gladly do so, my lord king," Sir Eustace replied. "During the
last three years it has been a loss rather than a gain to me. I have had
to keep a large garrison here; the estate has been wasted, and the houses
and barns burned. Had it not been that there was for most of the time a
truce between England and France I should have fared worse. And now I may
well be attacked as soon as your majesty and the army cross to England."

"You will have a little breathing time," the king said; "they will have
enough to do for a while to mourn their losses. I will not leave behind
any of your brave fellows who have fought so hard here, but when I arrive
at Calais will order two hundred men of the garrison to come over to
reinforce you until you can make arrangements to get rid of the castle, if
it is not to remain within my territory."

Sir Eustace introduced Sir John Aylmer as the father of the newly-made
knight.

"You have a gallant son, Sir John," the king said, "and one who is like to
make his way to high distinction. I doubt not that before we have done
with the French he will have fresh opportunities of proving his valour."

After the meal was over the king went round the walls.

"'Tis a strong place," he said, "and yet unless aid reached you, you could
not resist an army with cannon and machines."

"I have long seen that, your majesty, and have felt that I should have to
choose between England and France, for that, when war broke out again, I
could not remain a vassal of both countries."

"It shall be my duty to show you that you have not chosen wrongly, Sir
Eustace. I cannot promise to maintain you here, for you might be attacked
when I have no army with which I could succour you. As soon as I return
home and learn which of those who have fallen have left no heirs, and
whose lands therefore have come into my gift, I will then make choice of a
new estate for you."

The army marched slowly to Calais. It was weakened by sickness and hunger,
and every man was borne down by the weight of the booty he carried. On
arriving there the king held a council, and it was finally determined to
return to England. The force under his command was now but the skeleton of
an army. Fresh men and money were required to continue the war, and he
accordingly set sail, carrying with him his long train of royal and noble
prisoners. The news of the victory created the greatest enthusiasm in
England. At Dover the people rushed into the sea and carried the king to
shore on their shoulders. At Canterbury and the other towns through which
he passed he received an enthusiastic welcome, while his entry into London
was a triumph. Every house was decorated, the conduits ran with wine
instead of water, and the people were wild with joy and enthusiasm. Great
subsidies were granted him by Parliament, and the people in their joy
would have submitted to any taxation. However, throughout his reign Henry
always showed the greatest moderation; he kept well within constitutional
usages, and his pleasant, affable manner secured for him throughout his
reign the love and devotion of his subjects.

On his arrival at Calais Guy discovered that among the prisoners was his
friend Count Charles d'Estournel.

"I am grieved indeed to see you in this plight," he exclaimed as he met
him.

"'Tis unfortunate truly, Aylmer, but it might have been worse; better a
prisoner than among the dead at Agincourt," the light-hearted young count
said; "but truly it has been an awful business. Who could have dreamt of
it? I thought myself that the council were wrong when they refused all the
offers of the towns to send bodies of footmen to fight beside us; had they
been there, they might have faced those terrible archers of yours, for
they at least would have been free to fight when we were all but helpless
in that quagmire. I see that you have knightly spurs on, and I
congratulate you."

"Now, Count, what can I do to ensure your release at once? Whose prisoner
are you?"

"I surrendered to one John Parsons, an esquire, and I shall, of course, as
soon as we get to England, send home to raise money for my ransom."

"I know him well," Guy said; "his lord's tent was pitched alongside that
of Sir Eustace, before Harfleur, and we saw much of each other, and often
rode together on the march. If I gave him my guarantee for your ransom, I
doubt not that he will take your pledge, and let you depart at once."

"I should be glad indeed if you would do so, Aylmer."

"At any rate he will take the guarantee of Sir Eustace," Guy said, "which
will, I know, be given readily, after the service you rendered to his
dame, and it may be that you will have it in your power to do him a
service in return." He then told the count of the intention of Sir Eustace
to sell the estate, or rather to arrange for its transfer.

"It is held directly from the crown," he said, "but just at present the
crown is powerless. Artois is everywhere Burgundian, and it would
certainly be greatly to the advantage of Burgundy that it should be held
by one of his followers, while it would be to the safety of France that it
should be held by a Frenchman, rather than by one who is also a vassal of
England."

"I should think that that could he managed," the count said thoughtfully.
"I will speak to my father. I am, as you know, his second son, but through
my mother, who is a German, I have an estate on the other side of the
Rhine. This I would gladly exchange--that is to say, would part with to
some German baron--if I could obtain the fief of Villeroy. I have no doubt
that Burgundy would not only consent, but would help, for, as you know by
the manner in which your lady was made a hostage, he looked with great
jealousy on this frontier fortress, which not only gives a way for the
English into Artois, but which would, in the hands of an Orleanist,
greatly aid an invasion of the province from Pontoise and the west. And,
although the court would just at present object to give the fief to a
Burgundian, it is powerless to interfere, and when the troubles are over,
the duke would doubtless be able to manage it."

Guy had no difficulty in arranging the matter with D'Estournel's captor,
to whom Sir Eustace and he both gave their surety that his ransom should
be paid; and, before sailing, Guy had the satisfaction of seeing his
friend mount and ride for St. Omar with a pass through the English
territory from the governor.




CHAPTER XX

PENSHURST


After accompanying the king to London Sir Eustace and Guy rode to
Summerley, where Long Tom and his companions had already arrived, having
marched thither direct from Dover. There were great rejoicings at the
castle. Not only the tenants, but people from a long way round came in to
join in welcoming home two of the heroes of Agincourt. The archer had
already brought news of Guy having been knighted, and he was warmly,
congratulated by Dame Margaret and by Agnes, who received him with her
usual sisterly affection. Katarina, also, congratulated him, but it was
with less warmth of manner. In the evening, how ever, her mood changed,
and she said to him:

"Though I do not say much, you know that I am pleased, Sir Guy."

[Illustration: "KATARINA SWEPT A DEEP CURTSEY, AND WENT OFF WITH A MERRY
LAUGH."]

"I am not sure, Countess Katarina--since we are to be ceremonious to each
other--that I do quite know, for since I returned from France last time, I
have seldom understood you; one moment you seem to me just as you used to
be, at another you hold me at a distance, as if I were well-nigh a
stranger."

Katarina shrugged her shoulders. "What would you have, Guy? One can't be
always in the same humour."

"You are always in the same humour to Dame Margaret and Agnes," he said;
"so far as I can see I am the only one whom you delight to tease."

"Now that you are a belted knight, Sir Guy, I shall not presume to tease
you any more, but shall treat you with the respect due to your dignity."
Then she swept a deep curtsey, and turning, went off with a merry laugh,
while Guy looked after her more puzzled than ever.

That evening he received the news that during the absence of Sir Eustace
and himself Sir William Bailey, a young knight whose estates lay near, had
asked for the hand of Agnes, and that, although Dame Margaret had been
unable to give an answer during her lord's absence, Agnes would willingly
submit herself to her father's orders to wed Sir William.

Guy remained for some months quietly at Summerley. The Emperor Sigismund
had paid a visit to England, and then to Paris, to endeavour to reconcile
the two countries. His mediation failed. Henry offered, as a final
settlement, to accept the execution, on the part of France, of the treaty
of Trepigny. Nothing, however, came of it, for there was no government in
France capable of making a binding treaty. In spite of the disgrace and
the slaughter of the nobles at Agincourt there was no abatement of the
internal dissensions, and the civil war between Burgundy and Armagnac was
still raging, the only change in affairs being that the vicious and
incapable Duke of Aquitaine had died, and the queen had once again gone
over to the Burgundian faction. Count Charles d'Estournel had carried into
effect the mission with which he had charged himself. Burgundy had eagerly
embraced the opportunity of attaching to his side the castle and estates
of Villeroy, and he and the Count d'Estournel between them raised a sum of
money which was paid to Sir Eustace for the relinquishment to Burgundy of
the fief, which was then bestowed upon Count Charles.

The sum in no way represented what would now be considered the value of
the estate, but in those days, when fiefs reverted to the crown or other
feudal superior upon the death of an owner without heirs, or were
confiscated upon but slight pretence, the money value was far under the
real value of the estate. Sir Eustace was well satisfied, however, with
the sum paid him. Had his son Henry lived he had intended that the
anomalous position of the lord of Villeroy, being also a vassal of
England, should have been got rid of by one of his sons becoming its
owner, and a vassal of France, while the other would inherit Summerley,
and grow up a vassal of England only. Henry's death had put an end to the
possibility of this arrangement, and Charlie would now become, at his
father's death, Lord of Summerley and of such other English lands as could
be obtained with the money paid for the surrender of the fief of Villeroy.

In the first week of July there were great rejoicings at Summerley over
the marriage of Agnes with Sir William Bailey. The king had not forgotten
his promise to Sir Eustace, and had raised him to the title of Baron
Eustace of Summerley, and had presented him with a royal manor near
Winchester. Guy was summoned to court to take part in the festivities that
were held during the visit of Sigismund, and the king said to him
pleasantly one day:

"I have not forgotten you, Sir Guy; but I have had many to reward, and you
know importunate suitors, and those who have powerful connections to keep
their claims ever in front, obtain an advantage over those who are content
to hold themselves in the back-ground."

"I am in all ways contented, your majesty. I have lived all my life in the
household at Summerley, and am so much one of my lord's family that I have
no desire to quit it. Moreover, my father has just returned from Villeroy
with the garrison of the castle, and it is a great pleasure to me to have
his society again."

"I thought that some day you would have married Dame Margaret's fair
daughter, after acting as their protector in the troubles in Paris, but I
hear that she is betrothed to Sir William Bailey."

"Such an idea never entered my mind, your majesty. She was but a child in
those days, not so much in years as in thought, and brought up together as
we were I have always regarded her rather in the light of a sister."

Guy's quiet stay at Summerley came to an end suddenly. A fortnight after
the marriage of Agnes, Harfleur was besieged by the French by land and
water, and the Earl of Dorset, its governor, sent to England for aid. The
king sent hasty orders to his vassals of Kent, Surrey, and Hampshire, to
march with their retainers to Rye, where a fleet was to gather for their
conveyance. A body of archers and men-at-arms were also sent thither by
the king, and the Duke of Bedford, his brother, appointed to the command
of the expedition. Sir Eustace was suffering somewhat from the effects of
a fever, the seeds of which he had contracted in France, and he
accordingly sent his contingent, thirty archers and as many men-at-arms,
under the command of Guy.

"I had hoped that we had done with Harfleur," Long Tom said as they
started on their march to the seaport. "I don't mind fighting, that comes
in the way of business, but to see men rotting away like sheep with
disease is not to my fancy."

"We shall have no fighting on land, Tom," Guy replied, "at least I expect
not. When the French see that the garrison is reinforced they will
probably give up the siege, though we may have a fight at sea with the
French ships that are blockading the town and preventing provisions from
reaching the garrison. Doubtless we shall take a good store of food with
us, and the French will know well enough that as we had such hard work in
capturing the town, they can have no chance whatever of taking it by
assault when defended by us."

Guy and his party had a small ship to themselves, with which he was well
content, as, being but a newly-made knight, he would, had he been in a
large ship, have been under the orders of any others who chanced to be
with him; while he was now free to act as he chose. The voyage was
favourable, but when the fleet arrived off the mouth of the Seine they
found that the work before them was far more serious than they had
expected. In addition to their own fleet, which was itself considerably
stronger than the English, the besiegers had hired the aid of some great
Genoese vessels, and a number of galleys, caravels, and many high-decked
ships from Spain. They occupied a strong position off the town, and could
be supported by some of the siege batteries. The English fleet lay to at
the mouth of the Seine, and at night the captains of the troops on board
the various ships were rowed to Bedford's ship, which displayed a light at
the mast-head, so that the fleet could all lie in company round her. Here
after much discussion a plan for the battle next day was agreed upon. The
enterprise would have been a very hazardous one, but, happily, at daybreak
the French ships were seen coming out to give battle. Confident in their
superior numbers, and anxious to revenge their defeat at Agincourt, the
French commanders were eager to reap the whole glory of victory without
the assistance of their allies, whose ships remained anchored in the
river.

Bedford at once made the signal to attack them, and a desperate fight
ensued. Great as was the slaughter in those days in battles on land, it
was far greater in sea-fights. Except to knights and nobles, from whom
ransom could be obtained, quarter was never given to prisoners either by
land or sea, consequently as soon as soldiers in a land battle saw that
fortune was going against them they fled. But on sea there was no escape;
every man knew that it was either death or victory, and therefore fought
with determination and obstinacy to the end. The two first French ships
that arrived were speedily captured, but when the rest came up a desperate
battle took place. Guy was on the point of ordering his ship to be laid
alongside a French craft little larger than his own, when his eye fell
upon a great ship carrying the flag of a French admiral, and at once
diverting the course of his vessel, he ran alongside her. The archers were
on the bow and stern castles of his ship, and as they came within a short
distance of the Frenchman, they sent their arrows thick and fast into the
crowded mass on her deck. Two grapnels, to each of which were attached
twenty feet of chain, were thrown into the shrouds of the French vessel,
and Guy shouted to the men-at-arms in the waist to keep the enemy from
boarding by holding the vessels apart by thrusting out light spars and
using their spears.

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