Seeing And Not Seeing
Illustration
Stories
Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him, and he vanished from their sight. (v. 31)
The Battle of Agincourt, which took place on October 25, 1415, should have been a massive defeat for English troops in France. After negotiations broke down over disputed territories, the English invaded France mired under the leadership of King Henry V. After initial victories, English soldiers began to die in large numbers from disease. They attempted to return to England but found their path blocked by the French. Vastly outnumbered, the English nevertheless refused to surrender, and in the ensuing battle not only defeated but massively destroyed the French forces, shifting the balance of power for a generation.
Times being what they were, both sides gave God the credit – or blame – for the outcome. However, the late science fiction writer Isaac Asimov credited not God but the longbow, and the strong arms of the English Yeomen. The French army treated its commoners like cannon fodder, and indeed many were killed during the battle when the nobility ran over them on horseback from behind. The longbow could stand six feet tall and properly utilized could speed an arrow with such force that it pierced the best armor. What it required to operate was not blue blood but brute force. Credit for the victory probably goes more to strong British yeoman than divine intervention.
Be that as it may, by the time Shakespeare wrote about the battle two centuries later in his historical play, Henry V, around the year 1599, Agincourt was the stuff of legend, and a source of encouragement for the British at a time when they were threatened by invasion from the Spanish. Laurence Olivier would revive the play in 1944 during World War II and turn it into a feature film for the same reason when the English were under siege from the Nazis.
Shakespeare had already written about Henry V as a young man in two earlier plays about his father, the first and second parts of Henry IV. The prior Henry had overthrown the weak king Richard II and struggled with guilt over the fact through his entire reign – in Shakespeare’s play, anyway, and his son and heir Prince Hal was a wastrel, spending his time drinking and carousing with the disreputable Falstaff, and some of his cronies, including ancient, or Ensign, Pistol. But with Henry IV’s death, Henry V renounced his former ways and became the perfect example of divinely led royalty, at least for press release purposes.
After being insulted by the French when he demanded the return of English cities on French soil, Henry V invaded and was at first successful. But disease and exhaustion depleted his army, and when in their weakened state, they were refused passage back home the dispirited army prepared for what they expected would be a disastrous battle.
The night before the battle, the French nobility bragged about how many they would kill in the morning. Meanwhile, Henry V walked among his troops in disguise to comfort and encourage them. He discovers in conversation that although they were dispirited about their chances, and some even wonder if the king, following their death in battle, would save himself and sue for ransom for himself, they universally admired their king.
One of the greatest exchanges occurs when a couple of soldiers discuss the fact that many of them will be damned because their conduct, swearing and killing, and this will make them unfit for heaven. One blamed the king and insisted their damnation was on his shoulders, but another disagreed (and the unrecognized king agreed with the latter) and says that every man’s soul is his own business, and that the king had enough to answer for when it comes to war and battle.
In a humorous touch, one soldier challenged the king to a duel after an argument, but because there was a battle to be fought, they exchanged gloves and pledged to fight after the battle is lost or won. But this challenger was unflinching in his love for the king, and when he later discovered who it was he challenged he fully expects to be punished, but instead is rewarded by having his glove filled with coins for having spoken the truth.
This scene in which a king, seen by unseeing eyes walks unrecognized among his fellow soldiers and hears their honest opinion of him, reminds me of today’s gospel passage, where Jesus walks unrecognized with two disciples on the road to Emmaus, and freely discusses his death, and insists if they had looked at the scriptures with seeing eyes, they would have known their Lord would rise from the dead.
The Battle of Agincourt, which took place on October 25, 1415, should have been a massive defeat for English troops in France. After negotiations broke down over disputed territories, the English invaded France mired under the leadership of King Henry V. After initial victories, English soldiers began to die in large numbers from disease. They attempted to return to England but found their path blocked by the French. Vastly outnumbered, the English nevertheless refused to surrender, and in the ensuing battle not only defeated but massively destroyed the French forces, shifting the balance of power for a generation.
Times being what they were, both sides gave God the credit – or blame – for the outcome. However, the late science fiction writer Isaac Asimov credited not God but the longbow, and the strong arms of the English Yeomen. The French army treated its commoners like cannon fodder, and indeed many were killed during the battle when the nobility ran over them on horseback from behind. The longbow could stand six feet tall and properly utilized could speed an arrow with such force that it pierced the best armor. What it required to operate was not blue blood but brute force. Credit for the victory probably goes more to strong British yeoman than divine intervention.
Be that as it may, by the time Shakespeare wrote about the battle two centuries later in his historical play, Henry V, around the year 1599, Agincourt was the stuff of legend, and a source of encouragement for the British at a time when they were threatened by invasion from the Spanish. Laurence Olivier would revive the play in 1944 during World War II and turn it into a feature film for the same reason when the English were under siege from the Nazis.
Shakespeare had already written about Henry V as a young man in two earlier plays about his father, the first and second parts of Henry IV. The prior Henry had overthrown the weak king Richard II and struggled with guilt over the fact through his entire reign – in Shakespeare’s play, anyway, and his son and heir Prince Hal was a wastrel, spending his time drinking and carousing with the disreputable Falstaff, and some of his cronies, including ancient, or Ensign, Pistol. But with Henry IV’s death, Henry V renounced his former ways and became the perfect example of divinely led royalty, at least for press release purposes.
After being insulted by the French when he demanded the return of English cities on French soil, Henry V invaded and was at first successful. But disease and exhaustion depleted his army, and when in their weakened state, they were refused passage back home the dispirited army prepared for what they expected would be a disastrous battle.
The night before the battle, the French nobility bragged about how many they would kill in the morning. Meanwhile, Henry V walked among his troops in disguise to comfort and encourage them. He discovers in conversation that although they were dispirited about their chances, and some even wonder if the king, following their death in battle, would save himself and sue for ransom for himself, they universally admired their king.
One of the greatest exchanges occurs when a couple of soldiers discuss the fact that many of them will be damned because their conduct, swearing and killing, and this will make them unfit for heaven. One blamed the king and insisted their damnation was on his shoulders, but another disagreed (and the unrecognized king agreed with the latter) and says that every man’s soul is his own business, and that the king had enough to answer for when it comes to war and battle.
In a humorous touch, one soldier challenged the king to a duel after an argument, but because there was a battle to be fought, they exchanged gloves and pledged to fight after the battle is lost or won. But this challenger was unflinching in his love for the king, and when he later discovered who it was he challenged he fully expects to be punished, but instead is rewarded by having his glove filled with coins for having spoken the truth.
This scene in which a king, seen by unseeing eyes walks unrecognized among his fellow soldiers and hears their honest opinion of him, reminds me of today’s gospel passage, where Jesus walks unrecognized with two disciples on the road to Emmaus, and freely discusses his death, and insists if they had looked at the scriptures with seeing eyes, they would have known their Lord would rise from the dead.
