St. Crispin's Day

This call to celebrate a literary holiday in St. Crispin’s Day seems jaded, but maybe I am ignorant of King Henry V true character and the context of his war with France. I like this holiday idea though. Today, friends, is St. Crispin’s day. From Shakespeare’s Henry V:

“He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,


Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,


And rouse him at the name of Crispian.


He that shall live this day, and see old age,


Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,


And say ‘To-morrow is Saint Crispian:’


Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.


And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.”

Guy Patrick Cunningham writes, “In Henry V, Shakespeare offers us an opportunity to see the horror that results from pursuing winning only for its own sake. This is why St. Crispin’s Day ought to belong to Shakespeare’s play, and not the historical Henry’s battle. Because by reading, rereading, or simply thinking about the play, we are reminded that there is often a difference between the achievements that usually get remembered and the achievements that actually make people’s lives better.”

Here’s a summary of the Battle of Agincourt, which Henry won on October 25, 1415.

One thought on “St. Crispin's Day”

  1. I’m not sure if either of you, or any readers of this blog, speak any French–but if so, you might be interested in this video of the “French Lesson” scene from Henry V. (Caution for language, but only in French.)

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7UGE-wuSW5w&feature=channel_video_title

    Having watched Henry V recently, I was struck by the very carefully-contrived nature of its message. Sure it’s bunk history, but it is a rather moving portrait of both an idealized Christian king (wandering around his camps the night before the battle) and an idealized British nation (where Bretons are both caricatures and noble Englishmen.) With all respect to Yeats, I think the point of Henry’s ruthlessness is actually his dedication to justice. Emptiness doesn’t necessarily mean selfishness; Hal seems to me to become *only* the King’s public body, sacrificing his private body for the good of the realm.

    In other words, Hamlet he ain’t. But Hamlet (as much as I love him) was a crap noble, unable to choose firmly between personal connections, the good of the realm, and vengeance. Hal, in transforming himself into an empty vessel for English political power (and therefore divine justice) attains victory, a marriage between England and France, and (more importantly) a union in battle between England and Wales.

    I’m no Shakespeare scholar, but it seems the self-less Hal is the opposite of a greedy war monger. He is also, in his lack of calculation, far different from the historical Henry, who did have a self, and all the evils that attend it.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.