The banners of Agincourt: what flags did Henry V's army carry?

On 25 October 1415 – St Crispin's Day – an exhausted and heavily outnumbered English army faced the French near the village of Agincourt. Henry V's victory became one of the most celebrated episodes of the Hundred Years' War, remembered particularly for the devastating effectiveness of the English and Welsh longbowmen.

But above the archers, men-at-arms, horses and mud of Agincourt flew another important part of the medieval battlefield: banners, standards and pennons.

Unlike the flags seen at Hastings nearly 350 years earlier, the flags carried in Henry V's time belonged to a world in which heraldry was firmly established. Colours, badges and coats of arms could identify not simply a country, but a king, nobleman, family or body of fighting men. On a battlefield crowded with thousands of people, they also performed the very practical job of showing soldiers where their leaders and comrades could be found.

Henry V's Royal Arms

The most important banners in the English army were naturally those associated with the king. Henry V's royal arms combined the three gold lions of England with the fleurs-de-lis of France.

The presence of the French lilies on an English king's banner was no decorative accident. English kings had claimed the French throne since Edward III formally asserted his claim during the previous century and adopted arms combining those of England and France. By Henry V's reign, the French part of the royal arms displayed three fleurs-de-lis rather than the earlier field scattered with numerous lilies.

A royal banner displaying those quartered arms therefore made a very deliberate political statement. Henry wasn't simply leading an English army into France; in his eyes, he was asserting his right to rule it.

Banner, standard or pennon?

We tend to use the word “flag” for all of them today, but in the medieval world there were distinctions between different types of flag.

A banner was generally associated with a coat of arms and was often square or rectangular. A standard could be much longer, frequently tapering or ending in tails, and might incorporate badges, colours and other devices. A pennon was generally smaller and particularly associated with knights.

The terminology and usage changed over time, so applying rigid modern definitions to every surviving medieval image can be misleading. What we can say is that by 1415 flags had become part of an increasingly sophisticated visual language. An informed observer could look across a gathering of nobles and their retainers and recognise individuals and allegiances from the colours, badges and arms displayed above them.

St George and the English army

The red cross of St George was already strongly associated with England by the later Middle Ages. English soldiers could wear the cross as an identifying badge, while St George had become established as England's patron saint. Henry V himself was particularly devoted to the cult of St George.

The simple red cross on white that we recognise immediately today therefore already carried powerful associations for the English army of 1415. Its simplicity also made it extremely effective as a military symbol. On a chaotic battlefield, a bold red cross was considerably easier to recognise than an intricate heraldic design.

It is an interesting reminder that good flag design isn't necessarily about complexity. Sometimes the simplest device is the most effective because it can be recognised immediately and from a considerable distance.

Why banners mattered

A medieval army had no radio network, GPS or modern command system. Once thousands of men were assembled on a battlefield, maintaining organisation and communicating instructions became extraordinarily difficult.

A banner provided a visible point around which men could gather. It could show where a lord was positioned, identify a body of troops and provide a rallying point if formations became disrupted. A soldier's relationship with his lord's banner could therefore be intensely personal: it represented the man he served and the group with whom he fought.

This also meant that carrying an important banner was both an honour and a dangerous responsibility. A standard-bearer needed to remain visible – that was the whole point – but visibility worked both ways. Enemy soldiers could recognise an important banner and understand that the commander associated with it was probably nearby.

The loss or capture of a banner consequently carried enormous symbolic weight. It suggested that the men surrounding it had been defeated, scattered or killed, while a captured banner could become a prized trophy of victory.

What were the flags of Agincourt made from?

No complete collection of the flags carried at Agincourt survives, so any reconstruction requires a degree of interpretation. We can, however, draw on surviving medieval textiles, documentary evidence and contemporary artwork to understand how prestigious flags of the period were produced.

For an important nobleman or king, a banner could be a highly valuable object. Silk was particularly suitable for prestigious flags because it was relatively light, moved well in the wind and could carry strong colours. Other textiles could be used for less prestigious flags, while designs might be painted, embroidered or constructed using pieces of contrasting fabric. Gold and silver effects could also be incorporated into particularly rich work.

A royal banner was therefore simultaneously practical military equipment and a display of wealth and status. It is worth trying to imagine these objects as they were intended to be seen – not motionless behind glass in a museum or reproduced on a page, but moving above hundreds of armoured men on a cold and muddy field in northern France.

That was the environment they were made for.

From Hastings to Agincourt

Comparing the flags of Hastings in 1066 with those of Agincourt in 1415 reveals just how much had changed in 350 years. At Hastings we see standards and pennons in the Bayeux Tapestry, but we have to be extremely cautious about interpreting them through later heraldic conventions. By Agincourt, heraldry had developed into a sophisticated and recognisable system of identity.

A banner could tell an informed observer who was present before he ever saw the man's face. The three lions, the fleurs-de-lis, the Cross of St George and the individual arms and badges of the nobility all belonged to a visual language understood by the people who saw them.

Yet the fundamental purpose of flags had changed remarkably little. They still answered some of the most basic questions on a battlefield: Who are we? Who do we follow? Where is our leader? Where should we stand?

More than six centuries later, many of those symbols remain instantly recognisable. The three lions still represent England. The fleurs-de-lis remain one of the great symbols of historic France. The Cross of St George still flies across England.

To the soldiers standing in the mud at Agincourt on St Crispin's Day in 1415, however, these weren't quaint historic emblems.

They were living symbols of identity, loyalty, allegiance and power.