On this day in 1415, English king Hank the Five found hisself a really nice bit of freshly-ploughed, just-rained-on field strategically-located between the dense undergrowth of Tramecourt wood on the right; and the forest of Agincourt on the left, and proceeded to insult the flower of French chivalric knighthood.
Depending upon whom you read, the French outnumbered the English by anywhere from 3-1 to 6-1 … but a significant number of the English forces were the famed — and feared — English longbowmen.
The French had somewhere in the neighborhood of 4,000 crossbowmen available, but — by God! — this was knightly work! So the crossbow boys got ordered to stay in the rear with the gear.
I’m guessing that after having their horses killed under them by English clothyard shafts, then stomping through three hundred yards of knee-deep mud wearing 60 pounds of ‘clank, clank, I’matank’ and dodging terrified war horses — the French knights and men-at-arms were probably regretting that decision.
Well, they regretted it right up until the English men-at-arms and lightly-armoured archers got around to kebabing their shishes.
It also gave an English playwright the opportunity to write the mother of all inspirational speeches (in iambic pentameter, no less):