1421. He went to England to meet the Parliament, and left the Duke of Clarence to command against the Dauphin. The Scots, whom the Duke of Albany, Regent of Scotland, had sent over, under the command of the Earl of Buchan, assisted the Dauphin.

The Duke was soon afterwards defeated and slain in an action at Beaugé, in Anjou. The Dauphin made the Earl of Buchan Constable.

Henry carried over to France a considerable army, with which he was very successful against the Dauphin.

1422.-Whilst Henry was carrying on a successful war against the Dauphin, he suffered so much from a fever that he was obliged to be carried in a litter to the Bois de Vincennes, where he died on the 31st of August, leaving his brother, the Duke of Bedford, Regent of France, and his brother, the Duke of Gloucester, Protector of England, during his son's minority.

Henry was carried to England, and buried at Westminster.

Charles VI. of France did not survive him two months.

N the evening of Thursday, the 24th of October, in the year 1415, the hostile armies of France and England occupied stations on the plains of St. Omer, at about three bow

shots' distance from each other. Both parties were so close, that the English heard the French calling on their friends, and began to imitate their familiar vociferations; but King Henry commanded instantaneous silence to be observed, under very severe penalties. Worn down with sickness and hunger, scarcely amounting to a fifth part of the number of their opponents, and in an enemy's country, their escape from which only lay through the opposing myriads from which they were separated but by a narrow valley, the doom of the English army seemed to be fatal and certain. They lay in the midst of an immense wood, and occupied the only narrow passage which led through it. Their flanks being thus protected from the assaults of the enemy, who could only make any impression upon them by attacking them in front, moodily and silently they reposed themselves under the branches of the trees, except the King and a few of the more distinguished leaders, who found a scarcely more enviable shelter in the miserable huts of the adjacent village of Maisoncelles. In the mean time, the autumnal rain fell in torrents; the pitchy darkness of the night was only illuminated by the numerous watch-fires which the French had kindled in their camp, to enable them to observe the motions of the English, and to prevent their making their escape during the night; and the only sounds which disturbed the gloomy silence in the ranks of the latter proceeded from the obstreperous carousals of their exulting enemies, who were already celebrating their anticipated triumphs of the morrow. The same night-wind which chilled the veins of the English, bore to their ears the insulting vociferations of their foes; and the same fires which showed them the ghastly visages and scanty ranks of their comrades, gleamed on the hilarious revels of the myriads to which they were opposed. Still was not the slightest emotion of fear or regret visible in the little English band. They held a stern and indignant silence; and the feelings which the insults of their enemies called forth were only visibly expressed when some archer tried the strings of his bow with more than usual care and earnestness, or some man-at-arms clutched his dagger eagerly, while his features wore the aspect of one who has his deadliest foe within his grasp. Sometimes, too, a paternoster w

uttered, but in the tone rather of an oath than a supplication; at others, a less disguised execration burst from some indignant lips; and occasionally a lighter and more careless heart was indicated in the warble of a note or two of one of those gay ditties which were then so numerous and so much admired in merry England.

Such were the relative situations of the two armies, when two knights well mounted, and preceded by a herald, were seen crossing the narrow valley which separated them. “It is little less than madness, Sir Piers Capel," said one of them, "in King Henry to send such an answer to the Constable's message as that of which we are the bearers. The enemy are five to one against us; they are healthy and robust, while we are wasted with sickness and fatigue; and they are well supplied with provisions, while we can scarcely procure sufficient to support against the approach of famine to-night those bodies which must fall beneath the swords of the Frenchmen to-morrow."

"The King is wise and right," said Capel; "let us die on the morrow, if Heaven so wills it, but let us not dishonour the noble enterprise which we have undertaken by submitting to terms of base compromise. There are enow in England to avenge us, should we fall; and too many to witness our disgrace, should we return from a thriftless and dishonoured enterprise. Neither do I believe that the numbers of our enemies are so overwhelming as the fears of our scouts would make us believe. The gallant Welsh esquire, David Gam, is out upon a reconnoitring party, and till he confirms these disheartening rumours, Laurence Dutton, I will not believe them."

"And in good time," said Dutton, "here comes the brave Welshman, in eager haste, it would seem, to bear his news to his royal countryman. What cheer, brave Gam ?" he added, as a horseman, spurring his steed to its full speed, approached them: "what is the number of the enemy?"

"Enough to be killed, enough to be captured, and enough to in away," cried Gam, as he spurred rapidly past them.

Gallant David," said Capel, "if on the morrow a spirit like will but animate each individual man in King Henry's army,

the fame of the field of Agincourt shall not yield to that of Cressy or Poictiers, be the Frenchmen's numbers what they may. Would that I had no private sorrows to mingle with my solicitude for the public weal, and that amongst those Frenchmen who are my country's foes I did not number one who is the destroyer of the peace, and the unfeeling trampler on the dearest affections of Piers Capel!"

"Ha!" said Dutton, "does the old grudge between thee and the Lord de Challeny yet live in thy remembrance ?"

"Doth it yet live there, askest thou, Sir Laurence Dutton?” returned Capel: "are not its most ancient wounds yet fresh and bleeding, and doth not every day infuse fresh torture into its rankling smarts? Doth not that false Lord still hold my affianced bride in durance, and insult me with the taunt that I have not yet proved myself worthy of her hand? The Lady Margaret, I am ́assured, does not forget the vows which have been exchanged between us; and so jealous is her guardian (rather let me call him her gaoler) of an attempt at escape, that he forces her to bear him company in all his expeditions, and she is even now, it is said, in his tent near the village of Agincourt."

"The morrow's battle, Capel," said his companion, "will end or cure all; but we have arrived at the Constable's tent."

Having answered the challenge of the sentinel, by saying that. they were the bearers of a message from the King of England, in answer to that which he had received from the Lord High Constable of France, they were speedily admitted into the presence of the latter.

Charles D'Albret, High Constable of France, was one of the most experienced generals and gallant warriors of the age, and had in this campaign been the cause of infinite annoyance to the invading army, harassing and intercepting them, cutting off their provisions, and capturing their messengers and scouts. On the present occasion, too, his caution and forbearance, carried, it was thought by his followers, almost to timidity, presented a striking contrast to the reckless confidence and vain-glorious boasting of the chiefs with whom he was associated. While the latter reckoned