This personage is the same who appears in Shakespeare’s play of King Richard the Second by the title of Duke of Aumerle. His Christian name was Edward. He was the eldest son of Edmund Langley, Duke of York, who is introduced in the same play, and who was the fifth son of King Edward III. Richard, Earl of Cambridge, who appears in the second act of this play, was younger brother to this Edward, Duke of York.
([M]) Ride thou unto the horsemen on yon hill:] After the battle, “there were small bodies of the French on different parts of the plain, but they were soon routed, slain, or taken.”
([N]) Enter Montjoy.] He (the king) asked Montjoye to whom the victory belonged, to him or to the King of France? Montjoye replied that the victory was his, and could not be claimed by the King of France. The king said to the French and English heralds, “It is not we who have made this great slaughter, but the omnipotent God, as we believe, for a punishment of the sins of the French. The king then asked the name of the castle he saw near him. He was told it was Agincourt. Well, then, said he, since all battles should bear the name of the fortress nearest to the spot where they were fought, this battle shall from henceforth bear the ever durable name of Agincourt.” —Nicolas’s History of Agincourt.
([O]) When Alençon and myself were down together.] During the battle, the Duke of Alençon most valiantly broke through the English line, and advanced, fighting, near to the king, insomuch that he wounded and struck down the Duke of York. King Henry, seeing this, stepped forth to his aid, and as he was leaning down to raise him, the Duke of Alençon gave him a blow on the helmet that struck off part of his crown. The king’s guard on this surrounded him, when, seeing he could no way escape death but by surrendering, he lifted up his arm, and said to the king, “I am the Duke of Alençon, and yield myself to you;” but as the king was holding out his hand to receive his pledge, he was put to death by the guards. —Nicolas’s History of Agincourt.
([P]) Enter Warwick and Gloster.] The noble Duke of Gloucester, the king’s brother, pushing himself too vigorously on his horse into the conflict, was grievously wounded, and cast down to the earth by the blows of the French, for whose protection the king being interested, he bravely leapt against his enemies in defence of his brother, defended him with his own body, and plucked and guarded him from the raging malice of the enemy’s, sustaining perils of war scarcely possible to be borne. —Nicolas’s History of Agincourt.
([Q]) Here was a royal fellowship of death!—] There is not much difficulty in forming a correct estimate of the numbers of the French slain at Agincourt, for if those writers who only state that from three to five thousand were killed, merely meant the men-at-arms and persons of superior rank, and which is exceedingly probable, we may at once adopt the calculation of Monstrelet, Elmham, &c., and estimate the whole loss on the field at from ten to eleven thousand men. It is worthy of remark how very nearly the different statements on the subject approach to each other, and which can only be explained by the fact that the dead had been carefully numbered.
Among the most illustrious persons slain were the Dukes of Brabant, Barré, and Alençon, five counts, and a still greater proportion of distinguished knights; and the Duke of Orleans, the Count of Vendôsme, who was taken by Sir John Cornwall, the Marshall Bouciqualt, and numerous other individuals of distinction, whose names are minutely recorded by Monstrelet, were made prisoners. The loss of the English army has been variously estimated. The discrepancies respecting the number slain on the part of the victors, form a striking contrast to the accuracy of the account of the loss of their enemies. The English writers vary in their statements from seventeen to one hundred, whilst the French chroniclers assert that from three hundred to sixteen hundred individuals fell on that occasion. St. Remy and Monstrelet assert that sixteen hundred were slain. —Nicolas’s History of Agincourt.
([R]) Do we all holy rites:] Holinshed says, that when the king saw no appearance of enemies, he caused the retreat to be blown, and gathering his army together, gave thanks to Almighty God for so happy a victory, causing his prelates and chaplains to sing this psalm—In exitu Israel de Egypto; and commanding every man to kneel down on the ground at this verse—Non nobis domine, non nobis, sed nomini tuo da gloriam; which, done, he caused Te Deum and certain anthems to be sung, giving laud and praise to God, and not boasting of his own force, or any human power.
[ Enter Chorus.]
Chor. Vouchsafe to those that have not read the story,