King John Antih
07-05-2005, 11:51 PM
On the face of it, Henry V offers ample evidence to validate the proposition that of all Shakespeare’s chronicle plays, this one is closest to state propaganda and that such proximity denies the less privileged classes a significant place in the nation. One need only cite the near-unanimous commitment to Henry’s cause expressed by the nobility and commoners alike; the curiously muted treatment of those few dissenting voices that do make themselves heard; the play’s protective attitude to its royal protagonist, whom it shields from overt inquiry into his legitimacy of the claim to the English as well as the French throne.
The real King Henry (1387-1422), ascended to the throne of Henry IV in 1413 and two years later invaded France. The play is a patriotic, epic portrayal of a phase in the bloody hundred years war that started with the landing of Henry’s troops near Harfleur and the legendary victory at Agincourt. It describes a medieval campaign led by a chivalrous king, who could do wrong, but not a great deal of it.
The verse found within the play resounds with the rhetoric of nationalistic fervour. It is the very essence of a “Boys Own” adventure story. Full of fighting scenes, and victories by sadly depleted, underfed, and highly stressed forces against insurmountable odds. It is a story to stir the blood, and filled with patriotic speeches that are strangely reminiscent of Winston Churchill’s speeches during World War Two. However, unlike Churchill’s period, England was under no threat of invasion, and in fact, it was the English who were the antagonists as will be seen later.
Once more into the breech dear friends, once more,
Or close the wall up with our British dead,
In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man,
As modest, stillness, and humility,
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard – favour’d rage,
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect,
Let pry through the portage of the head,
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o’erwhelm it,
As fearfully as a galled rock,
O’erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostril wide;
Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit
To his full height! - on, on, ye noblest English,
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers, that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought,
And sheath'd their swords for lack of argument.
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you!
King Henry praises the fighting merits of his countrymen, and accords them praise in calling them all, both commoner and nobleman alike, “Noblest English”. Having done this, he continues in his praise by praising their ancestry by equating their fathers to Alexander the Great before warning them not to bring shame upon their mothers, the vehicles by which this “nobility” came into the world. He also likens the fighting spirit of his men, not to the Bulldog that would be come the icon to British tenacity in the future, but to the Greyhound; a dog, that was used by both the Egyptians and Romans while out hunting to bring down their quarry.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war!
And you good yeomen,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start, the game's afoot,
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge,
Cry ‘God for Harry, England, and Saint George.
Henry’s challenge is to turn his troops’ small numbers into an advantage, which he does by convincing his men that the battle is more than a mathematical formula that they have all come there to fight for honour, for justice, and for glory. He makes fighting with him at Agincourt sound like a privilege, one that will allow its participants to capture more glory than anything else could. Henry also brings up, once more, the motif of the bond between king and commoner.
Henry’s phrasing implies a realist admission that not everyone with him that day will survive. But its main effort is to make the idea of survival concrete. The scene is domestic and familiar; a far cry from the monologue spoken before Harfleur, and the old veteran is made more convincing by his suggestion that he will exaggerate a little.
History shows that Harfleur had been a victory for the English forces and that the matter had been reported as such in the nation’s capitol, London. Despite this, the siege at could well have been viewed as a defeat. Of the 2,500 men that had sailed with Henry from England, 900 men-at-arms remained. Death and sickness had done what the French could not and decimated his fighting force. The only viable and sensible thing for Henry to have done at that point was to have returned home to England, and a hero’s welcome.
Henry, however, had other ideas. He had the British fighting spirit in his blood, and he was feeling anything but sensible after Harfleur. He was the victor, and for him, the matter was not yet over. All France was before him and total victory was in sight. His intention was to advance to Calais, a journey that would take the battered English through hostile territory, fortified towns, and past hostile castles. The French army had by this time, received the reinforcements they had been expecting and now easily outnumbered the sadly depleted English force by at least six to one.
The first week of the English advance went by with an occasional skirmish, the walled towns along the way surrendering at once, and the Béthune and Bresle rivers were crossed without incident. The first major hurdle the English came across was at the Somme. There was a well known ford at the river mouth known as Blanche-Taque that Edward III had crossed some sixty-nine years before on his way to Crécy, but the French had rendered it impassable with rows of sharpened stakes, while a company of French cavalry defended the approaches.
However, Henry knew that his force was outnumbered by the superior French force. He then did what patriotic and chauvinistic historians and play writes, including Shakespeare himself, overlook; he sued for peace. According to Norwich (1999) Henry saw that there was little or no hope of his offer being accepted, but at least the offer would be a delaying tactic that would give his exhausted troops a much needed rest.
For the previous week or so, there had been an almost incessant rain. All day the storm clouds had been gathering, and as evening came, so did the rain. Lying in the open as they were, few of the English would have got much sleep, and fewer still would have realised that the unremitting rain over the past week could be seen as a gift from the Almighty. By the following day, October 25th, St. Crispian’s day, the rain had finally stopped, leaving the recently ploughed fields between the woods of Tramecourt to the east, and Agincourt to the west, a waterlogged mass. There still had been no reply to Henry’s offer, so the English prepared for battle.
In Shakespeare’s play Henry V, the king’s inspirational St. Crispin’s Day speech—so called because the battle is fought on the feast day of St. Crispin, a holiday in the England of the play—is perhaps the most famous passage in the entire play. In this speech, which is meant to bolster the morale of his soldiers before they head into a battle that they are almost certain to lose, Henry demonstrates his customary brilliance with words and astounding charisma, both of which he has displayed so often before.
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhood cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
The real King Henry (1387-1422), ascended to the throne of Henry IV in 1413 and two years later invaded France. The play is a patriotic, epic portrayal of a phase in the bloody hundred years war that started with the landing of Henry’s troops near Harfleur and the legendary victory at Agincourt. It describes a medieval campaign led by a chivalrous king, who could do wrong, but not a great deal of it.
The verse found within the play resounds with the rhetoric of nationalistic fervour. It is the very essence of a “Boys Own” adventure story. Full of fighting scenes, and victories by sadly depleted, underfed, and highly stressed forces against insurmountable odds. It is a story to stir the blood, and filled with patriotic speeches that are strangely reminiscent of Winston Churchill’s speeches during World War Two. However, unlike Churchill’s period, England was under no threat of invasion, and in fact, it was the English who were the antagonists as will be seen later.
Once more into the breech dear friends, once more,
Or close the wall up with our British dead,
In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man,
As modest, stillness, and humility,
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard – favour’d rage,
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect,
Let pry through the portage of the head,
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o’erwhelm it,
As fearfully as a galled rock,
O’erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth, and stretch the nostril wide;
Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit
To his full height! - on, on, ye noblest English,
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers, that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought,
And sheath'd their swords for lack of argument.
Dishonour not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you!
King Henry praises the fighting merits of his countrymen, and accords them praise in calling them all, both commoner and nobleman alike, “Noblest English”. Having done this, he continues in his praise by praising their ancestry by equating their fathers to Alexander the Great before warning them not to bring shame upon their mothers, the vehicles by which this “nobility” came into the world. He also likens the fighting spirit of his men, not to the Bulldog that would be come the icon to British tenacity in the future, but to the Greyhound; a dog, that was used by both the Egyptians and Romans while out hunting to bring down their quarry.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war!
And you good yeomen,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start, the game's afoot,
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge,
Cry ‘God for Harry, England, and Saint George.
Henry’s challenge is to turn his troops’ small numbers into an advantage, which he does by convincing his men that the battle is more than a mathematical formula that they have all come there to fight for honour, for justice, and for glory. He makes fighting with him at Agincourt sound like a privilege, one that will allow its participants to capture more glory than anything else could. Henry also brings up, once more, the motif of the bond between king and commoner.
Henry’s phrasing implies a realist admission that not everyone with him that day will survive. But its main effort is to make the idea of survival concrete. The scene is domestic and familiar; a far cry from the monologue spoken before Harfleur, and the old veteran is made more convincing by his suggestion that he will exaggerate a little.
History shows that Harfleur had been a victory for the English forces and that the matter had been reported as such in the nation’s capitol, London. Despite this, the siege at could well have been viewed as a defeat. Of the 2,500 men that had sailed with Henry from England, 900 men-at-arms remained. Death and sickness had done what the French could not and decimated his fighting force. The only viable and sensible thing for Henry to have done at that point was to have returned home to England, and a hero’s welcome.
Henry, however, had other ideas. He had the British fighting spirit in his blood, and he was feeling anything but sensible after Harfleur. He was the victor, and for him, the matter was not yet over. All France was before him and total victory was in sight. His intention was to advance to Calais, a journey that would take the battered English through hostile territory, fortified towns, and past hostile castles. The French army had by this time, received the reinforcements they had been expecting and now easily outnumbered the sadly depleted English force by at least six to one.
The first week of the English advance went by with an occasional skirmish, the walled towns along the way surrendering at once, and the Béthune and Bresle rivers were crossed without incident. The first major hurdle the English came across was at the Somme. There was a well known ford at the river mouth known as Blanche-Taque that Edward III had crossed some sixty-nine years before on his way to Crécy, but the French had rendered it impassable with rows of sharpened stakes, while a company of French cavalry defended the approaches.
However, Henry knew that his force was outnumbered by the superior French force. He then did what patriotic and chauvinistic historians and play writes, including Shakespeare himself, overlook; he sued for peace. According to Norwich (1999) Henry saw that there was little or no hope of his offer being accepted, but at least the offer would be a delaying tactic that would give his exhausted troops a much needed rest.
For the previous week or so, there had been an almost incessant rain. All day the storm clouds had been gathering, and as evening came, so did the rain. Lying in the open as they were, few of the English would have got much sleep, and fewer still would have realised that the unremitting rain over the past week could be seen as a gift from the Almighty. By the following day, October 25th, St. Crispian’s day, the rain had finally stopped, leaving the recently ploughed fields between the woods of Tramecourt to the east, and Agincourt to the west, a waterlogged mass. There still had been no reply to Henry’s offer, so the English prepared for battle.
In Shakespeare’s play Henry V, the king’s inspirational St. Crispin’s Day speech—so called because the battle is fought on the feast day of St. Crispin, a holiday in the England of the play—is perhaps the most famous passage in the entire play. In this speech, which is meant to bolster the morale of his soldiers before they head into a battle that they are almost certain to lose, Henry demonstrates his customary brilliance with words and astounding charisma, both of which he has displayed so often before.
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhood cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.