Tours, 1366; Agincourt, 1415, York, 1421
folk
celtic
sca
Story behind the song
Jean II le Maingre, dit Boucicaut was a renaissance man before his time. Educated at court and trained as a soldier, he was nevertheless a poet and patron of the arts, as well as being the founder of an order of knighthood whose sole purpose was protecting the families of knights who were away from their lands in service to the King. The command at Azincourt (the French spell it with a Z) was taken from him by pushy though far less skilled royals, and after the defeat he died unransomed in England. He died a year before Henry V’s death, though, and it comforts me to think that he died believing there would be a man on the French throne that a soldier could respect.
Lyrics
The sun rose on the morning of my years
And Fortune offered me a noble goal:
To stand as first of France’s cavaliers
To fight with pride, and live by my parole,
With Charles the Dauphin lettered, schooled, and squired
And trained to do whatever was required
To serve the lily.
Too early called to duty and display
A dozen years, and then a throne and crown
Yet known as “well-beloved”, le bien aimé,
My king was destined ever for renown
But madness took the scepter from his hand
Yet still I journeyed forth at his command
To serve the lily.
In tournament I sought for no reward
But glory for the lily on my shield
In Genoa, made governor and lord
In far Constantinople, forced to yield
But ransom paid, I journeyed forth once more
To answer duty’s call and ride to war
And serve the lily.
At Azincourt I joined my friend d’Albret
Our forces massed, our strategy agreed,
But princes will not follow and obey
Nor suffer common men to plan and lead
Before day’s end, I knew our cause was lost
But still I fought on, heedless of the cost,
To serve the lily.
I fell a captive, taken as a prize,
And knelt to English Henry in my shame
I saw a soldier’s soldier in his eyes
And in his word and deed no hint of blame
He marries royal Catherine, heir of France;
May God provide them sons, and grant their chance
To serve the lily.
At sunset now my evensong I sing
And pray before I close my eyes to sleep
I dream that I am riding with my king,
A world to win, and honor still to keep;
With Henry will my faith at last abide
As we ride out together, side by side,
To serve the lily.
Et nous montons ensemble, côte á côte,
Servir le lys.