Agincourt 2002

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Agincourt 2002

On a rain soaked field in France, on 25^th October 1415, King Henry V of England won a battle against overwhelming odds that would go down in history as the Longbow’s finest hour. That battle was later known as ‘The battle of Azincourt’ (Agincourt being an Anglicised version of the French name). No more devastating battle was fought in a single day until the battle of Waterloo some four hundred years later. By 1429 the English and their Burgundian allies were masters of all France North of the Loire.

With the emergence of the Gun, the renewed optimism sparked by the limited victories of Jeanne d’arc and the securing of an alliance with Burgundy the French under Charles VII finally managed to push the English from the fields of France in 1453. England, torn by the Wars of the Roses, made no further attempt to conquer France. With the loss of Calais in 1558 the Hundred Years’ War and its battles of French knights against English longbow men were resigned to the pages of history. Or so it seemed

Friday 19^th July 2002
Slipping quietly beneath the cold waters of the English Channel we made our entrance into Normandy with rather less fuss than Henry V had chosen back in 1415. Deciding against a fleet of warships, and leaving ten thousand of our closest friends at home, we opted instead for a simple dark blue people mover, every available space taken up with longbows, suitcases and overnight bags, a roof box bristling with one hundred and fifty arrows and a good supply of sweets and wine gums to go round. After a brief stop for lunch we took the A16 toll road South from Calais, heading straight for the hill top town of Montreuil passing beneath its twin-towered gateway to gain access to the medieval streets perched high above the plains of Northern France

Arriving outside ‘Les Hauts de Montreuil’, a 16^th century coaching inn situated in the heart of the old town, Martin and Alan disappeared inside to check in whilst Michael and Nick sought out the hotel car park located within a small walled and gated enclosure within the crumbling back streets. With keys obtained we unloaded our bags and marched back to the hotel entrance, bows over our shoulders presenting a peculiar sight to any passers by. With belongings safely stowed in rooms that were rather spartanly furnished but suitable nonetheless for our needs we regrouped in the hotel courtyard to discuss our next move. With the evening still young and the town of Azincourt only a thirty minute drive away we decided to drop in on the encampment to see if we could find out some much needed information on the following day’s events. Retaking our seats in the people mover we set off in good spirits. With the sun still high in the sky we sped off along empty straight roads across a sea of golden cornfields, punctuated by islands of green woodland and the occasional sleepy hamlet.