own banners, were left on the field of battle.  The Duke of Brabant, the Count of Nevers, the Duke of Bar, the Duke of Alencon, and the Constable d’Albret were killed.  The Duke of Orleans was dragged out wounded from under the dead.  When Henry V., after having spent several hours on the field of battle, retired to his quarters, he was told that the Duke of Orleans would neither eat nor drink.  He went to see him.  “What fare, cousin?” said he.  “Good, my lord.”  “Why will you not eat or drink?” “I wish to fast.”  “Cousin,” said the king, gently, “make good cheer:  if God has granted me grace to gain the victory, I know it is not owing to my deserts; I believe that God wished to punish the French; and, if all I have heard is true, it is no wonder, for they say that never were seen disorder, licentiousness, sins, and vices like what is going on in France just now.  Surely, God did well to be angry.”  It appears that the King of England’s feeling was that also of many amongst the people of France.  “On reflecting upon this cruel mishap,” says the monk of St. Denis, “all the inhabitants of the kingdom, men and women, said, ’In what evil days are we come into this world that we should be witnesses of such confusion and shame!’” During the battle the eldest son of Duke John the Fearless, the young Count of Charolais (at that time nineteen), who was afterwards Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy, was at the castle of Aire, where his governors kept him by his father’s orders and prevented him from joining the king’s army.  His servants were leaving him one after another to go and defend the kingdom against the English.

[Illustration:  Already distressed——­57]

When he heard of the disaster at Agincourt he was seized with profound despair at having failed in that patriotic duty; he would fain have starved himself to death, and he spent three whole days in tears, none being able to comfort him.  When, four years afterwards, he became Duke of Burgundy, and during his whole life, he continued to testify his keen regret at not having fought in that cruel battle, though it should have cost him his life, and he often talked with his servants about that event of grievous memory.  When his father, Duke John, received the news of the disaster at Agincourt, he also exhibited great sorrow and irritation; he had lost by it his two brothers, the Duke of Brabant and the Count of Nevers; and he sent forthwith a herald to the King of England, who was still at Calais, with orders to say, that in consequence of the death of his brother, the Duke of Brabant, who was no vassal of France, and held nothing in fief there, he, the Duke of Burgundy, did defy him mortally (fire and sword) and sent him his gauntlet.  “I will not accept the gauntlet of so noble and puissant a prince as the Duke of Burgundy,” was Henry V.’s soft answer; “I am of no account compared with him.  If I have had the victory over the nobles of France, it is by God’s grace.  The death of the Duke of Brabant hath been an affliction to me; but I do assure thee that neither I nor my people did cause his death.  Take back to thy master his gauntlet; if he will be at Boulogne on the 15th of January next, I will prove to him by the testimony of my prisoners and two of my friends, that it was the French who accomplished his brother’s destruction.”