by Griff Hosker
We retired, not to Dunkerque but to Brussels where King Edward ordered a tournament to celebrate what had been, in effect, a bloodless victory. The levy went back to England and that would save the King enough money to provide prizes for his knights. It was an excuse for most archers and the poorer men at arms to become drunk while the knights tried to show their prowess at the tourney. I confess that the few bouts I watched were a little more dangerous than I had expected, and I saw a couple of lords who were seriously hurt. As Captain Philip said, when we discussed it over a jug of Brussels Black Ale, “At least this way the fact that they were not good enough will not lose us a battle and the ones who won will be stronger!”
Lord Henry left us to join Sir Walter Manny with the fleet and King Edward took his son and most of the army back to England. Many of the archers, myself included, stayed in the Low Countries along with five hundred men at arms. We were under the command of Sir Richard Elfingham who had shown his worth in the Scottish campaign and in the fighting around Cambrai. I liked him and I was happy. I knew it not then, but my future was now in Europe. I spent most of my time as a soldier in France, Gascony and the Low countries and I think that shaped my life. I learned from the French, Flemish, Bretons, Gascons and Poitevin. I either fought with them or against them and I learned all the time.
I used some of my back pay to rent accommodation in Brussels. It had a stable so that Megs was looked after and I was able to enjoy better food than at the camp with the other archers. Archers were well paid, but many had vices: women, gambling and the love of too much ale. I liked women but I would not pay for a whore and I was young enough to be able to bed comely young women. I did not gamble, and I always stopped drinking before I began to fall over. My first experience of drunkenness had been enough for me! I had a thirst, instead, for knowledge and I liked nothing better than to speak with other warriors. All were older than I was and came from many different nationalities. During that time, I began to learn languages. Most men could speak French and that was always a starting point, but I tried to learn from all those I met. Sometimes Captain Philip would be with me for we enjoyed each other’s company, but, after we had been there for a few days, he discovered a woman he liked, and he spent an increasing amount of time with her. I did not mind, and most men were happy to talk with me. I found it easy to be pleasant. Occasionally I was told to clear off, but I did not take it personally.
It was in a small inn just off the main square that I met an Italian youth. He was the same age as me. but he was the squire of a mercenary who was fighting with the Count of Hainault. The Italian city-states, Venice excluded, were generally small and had many wars amongst each other. The knight whom Giovanni d’Azzo degli Ubaldini served had managed to upset factions on both sides of the Paduan, Florentine conflict. He had taken service in Flanders until it was safe for him to return. Lord Bartolomeo, like Captain Philip, had found a Flemish woman and he spent most nights with her. Giovanni kept watch from the inn and if his master stayed the night then Giovanni slept in the stable with the horses. We got on immediately when we met.
In the month that we spent in each other’s company, I learned to speak some Italian and he learned English well. We both benefitted from the skill and while I learned about Italy, I was able to tell him of the politics of France, Scotland and England. We had much in common. Even though I was an archer and he would be a man at arms or, if he was a lucky a knight, we both appreciated that being paid to fight was far better than any noble or chivalrous quest. As luck would have it, we both ended up fighting on the same side. Not long after Sir Walter destroyed the French fleet at the Battle of Sluys the Flemish went to war with the French and Sir Richard took the one thousand men of the English contingent to fight alongside them. Giovanni and I did not march together but, when we camped, we made sure that we found time to talk to each other.
The Flemish army headed for the French border. The French had been hurt by Sir Walter and I think that the Counts of Flanders and Hainault saw their chance to garner some of their own glory. What I saw was the same problem which had beset the French and their allies. The only way to win a battle was to have one man in command and all of the men knowing not only their place in battle but the mind of their leader. Sir Richard was a good leader, but it was the Count of Flanders who led the army and he was not a good general. We had marched towards Saint Quentin where the French and their allies awaited us. The English contingent was placed on the right flank and Sir Richard had us use stakes to protect ourselves. He had mounted men at arms to our right and we had dismounted men at arms behind us. More mounted men at arms and the knights were to our left. The Men of Hainault had the left flank and it was the Count of Flanders who had his men take the middle ground. We were the only archers and the men of Flanders relied on their crossbows.
The crossbows and archers were ordered to advance. This did not sit well with us for we preferred our enemies to come to us, but we obeyed. Captain Philip still had a slight limp, but he marched forward well enough. The problem as I saw it was that we would be isolated and not able to get fresh supplies of arrows. I had just thirty! The French and their allies seemed to mirror our moves. I looked around and knew that English archers would die and there was no need! We halted when the Flemish did, and I nocked an arrow. The men of Flanders and Hainault began to send their bolts piecemeal and I heard Captain Philip curse.
“Draw!”
We pulled back and I saw two archers hit by Genoese bolts!
“Release!”
Our arrows rose in the sky and we all nocked a second and were ready when the order came, “Release at will!”
The faster men, such as me would empty our war bags sooner and the French and their allies would die quicker! The French were using their Genoese allies and I had heard that they were good men. They were not facing us but the Flemish in the centre. Our arrow storm was so withering that the crossbows who were opposite us had no answer and the first couple of archers who were struck were our only losses. The French we faced were decimated and they turned and fled. Their flight availed them little as we continued to kill and wound them as they ran.
Captain Philip was mindful that a sudden movement of our men to the rear might be interpreted as some sort of retreat, “Fall back slowly but face the enemy at all times.” I think he was aware that the crossbows to our left were weakening for even before we had taken a step backwards the Flemish crossbows in the centre simply disintegrated and fled. All of us still had a couple of arrows in our arrow bags and we each nocked them. The men of Hainault saw their fellows run and then began a hurried retreat. It was only the English longbowmen who maintained a steady pace.
The French King ordered his men to charge. The whole of the enemy front erupted, and I smiled. I was a novice at this but talking with others and having witnessed some war I knew that mounted men succeeded only when they kept a steady pace and a solid line. Quite simply the French did not. Those on our flank had to negotiate their fleeing crossbowmen and that put them behind the others. Although even they had to navigate around Genoese and French crossbowmen. The result was a series of knights who had managed to clear their fellows and with lances ready charged towards us. The last four arrows in my bag were all bodkins, I had not needed them against the crossbowmen. I had not been ordered to, but I stopped and nocked my bow. I saw some of the more experienced archers doing the same. It was always better if you could manage it, to face your enemy and avoid the wooden lance in the back!
I pulled back and tried to gauge when the knight on the courser would reach me. I had time to take in that he had an open bascinet and a long kite shield. I watched the end of his lance wave up and down as his horse galloped. When I had watched the tournament the speed at which the knights had approached each other was slower than this and they seemed to have time to steady and aim their lances. Perhaps the ones I had seen had been the best. I was confident enough to know that I could stop the horseman before he reached me, and I hoped that when I had
been told that a horse will not willingly ride a man down it had been the truth. I waited until the rider was just fifty paces from me. I watched him pull back his arm in preparation for a lunge with his lance and I released my bodkin and drew another. The arrow slammed into his chest and buried itself up to the fletch. He fell to the right and his horse struggled to keep its feet. The animal was dragged to the ground and the next horseman, who tried to clear the fallen horse and rider, was also struck in the middle by another English archer. By now we had all stopped and were spread out over a large area, but we all had arrows left. My second arrow struck a man at arms in the right shoulder. I saw his lance fall to the ground and I drew another bodkin. I had two left. I had no idea how the rest of the battle was going but we were winning. Had they been in one solid line it may have been a different story, but we had time to choose our targets and know that if we hit the nearest one we would have time to nock and aim at another. When I had sent my last arrow, I simply slung my bow, turned and took to my heels drawing my sword when I had the opportunity. I was not the first to use all of his arrows and as I passed two, they slung their bows and followed me.
It was when I heard hooves thundering a little closer to me that I drew my sword and handy little axe. I saw Captain Philip sling his bow, draw his sword and he shouted, “Hawkwood! Turn!”
I trusted the archer I had now known the longest and, even as I turned, I was swinging my sword and drawing my hand axe. The man at arms with the lance thought that he had me for he was pulling back his arm ready to strike. I was on his right and without a shield had no means of defending myself. I whipped up my sword as the wavering lance aimed first at my leg and then my head. I caught it when it was aimed at my shoulder and the lance went up in the air. I stepped closer and hacked at the rump of his horse as it passed with my hand axe. The effect was remarkable. The head bit deeply in and the horse almost screamed and then arched its back. The man at arms had his feet in his stirrups but he could not keep his saddle and he was thrown to the ground. As the wounded horse raced off, I ran to him and brought down my hand axe across the bridge of his nose. He died before I could pull it out.
From the corner of my eye I saw another horseman, it was a knight, coming at me. This time I waited until he was committed to an attack and then danced to the left side of the rider and swung my sword at his leg. He wore mail cuisse covering his legs but I drew blood and he veered away from me. I saw no horseman closer than sixty paces and so I turned and took the sword from the man at arms and reached into his mail to take his purse. I ran back to the men at arms who opened their ranks to allow us through.
Captain Philip shouted, “Archers, mount!”
It was as I slung my leg over Megs that I saw why. The English contingent was the only component of the army which was unbroken. The French and their allies were driving the Flemish from the field.
Sir Richard shouted, in English, “Fall back in good order!”
Over the next three days, we worked our way back to Dunkerque. We were pursued all the way, but Sir Richard knew his business and we frequently stopped, dismounted nocked and released our arrows driving hence our pursuers each time they came too close. We lost not a man. The battle had been lost, but not by us!
I also observed, after the battle when we were recovering in Dunkerque, the rewards for courage and bravery in action. John Chandos had been a man at arms fighting for Sir Richard. He fought well, but no better than I had done, and the result was that he was knighted. If I wished to be a knight then I needed to be a man at arms but I still enjoyed, at that time, the life of an archer.
Chapter 6
As is the nature of such things some men chose to go home. However, in our case, one of these was King Edward. We fought his enemies abroad but, at home, he had to deal with those who sought to undermine him. As men went home then the ones who remained became more important. I was learning that my status as a retained archer was a good one for it meant I was paid and fed. Of course, I could leave the King’s service but what fool would? If I was not a soldier, then it might be an option, but I had chosen a martial path. Surprisingly, some men bored of the life we led and left for England. The result was that I stayed in Dunkerque with Captain Philip and now became a vintenar. When I had first become an archer that had seemed a lofty ambition, and now I commanded twenty men. There were just one hundred of us and that made me privy to far more privileged information. As soon as Captain Philip was informed of intelligence which might be useful, he told his vintenars and so I learned more.
Over the next couple of years, we were involved in fights and battles, but none were decisive. We would ride with Sir Richard’s men at arms to support the Count of Flanders. He rarely defeated the French but the reason he was never destroyed was because of Sir Richard and Captain Philip. The French and Genoese crossbowmen came to learn not only to respect English archers but to fear them. It was not just our skill with the bow that made them unwilling to fight us, it was our tenacity when we put down our bows. Those forays were a monthly occurrence and each time we rode I learned more about myself and leading men. The booty was not as good as it could have been but that was because we rarely held the field. Had we been in an army led by Lord Henry then we would have been for he commanded Englishmen and we were just part of the Flemish army. I began to tire of serving under Flemish lords. I was not only one of Captain Philip’s vintenars, but I also helped to train men with a sword. My work with Ralph of Malton and some natural skill which came from I know not where, helped to make me a good swordsman. I enjoyed the times I spent training men to use a sword and a dagger.
It was not long before our service in the Low Countries came to an end that Captain Philip sought me out. It was not a rare occurrence for he seemed to like me, but this time was different. “John,” the use of my first name was unusual and he had my attention, “you know that there is a lady in Brussels and, well, that I am fond of her?” We all knew that he often took himself off to Brussels, ostensibly to meet with our Flemish masters or to be with Sir Richard when he discussed strategy but more often than not it was during a quiet time and we all knew that he was meeting his lady. As we sometimes went with him, as an escort or to collect supplies, I learned her identity. She was not a young woman, she had seen twenty-four summers, and her name was Mathilde. Over those months that he visited with her, I learned that her father had been a Flemish lord and her mother a Norman lady. He had been killed serving the Emperor and when her mother had died the Lady Mathilde had been left with a house in Brussels and the income from a small village which now lay in France. The Captain had been helping to support her financially.
I hid the smile, “Aye, Captain!”
“I left her too soon and I would return to Brussels to speak with her, about…, it matters not but I would have you come with me. I fear no man but the roads in Flanders have many bandits and brigands. I am aware that I have a responsibility here. I have spoken with Sir Richard and he is content to let me have a sennight to ride to Brussels and settle my affairs. Would you come and be as a squire for me?”
I was flattered and responded without even thinking, “Aye, Captain!” When he had travelled before he had not worried about brigands and I wondered why he had sought permission to take a week off. Then I realised that the other occasions had been times when he had a legitimate reason to be in Brussels so that this would be personal.
The distance was not great but, as the Captain had said, the uncertain nature of the war and the deserters who had left every army meant that the road was not protected as well as it might have been. The journey would take us three days and we would have one day in Brussels before we had to return home. We did not take our bows for that would mark us as archers and we knew that if there was danger on the road then our bows would be of little use. Instead, we took our swords. I now had a spare and my first sword was in a scabbard on Meg’s saddle. The sword in my new scabbard was the one I had taken from the French man at arms. Neither did we wear our helmet
s nor our archer’s hats, instead we were hooded. We stayed at inns and the Captain paid. I slept in the stable and I did not mind. When we ate, I carefully studied, everyone that I saw or we met. I could not help my nature which, thanks to my brother and my father, was suspicious. I viewed everyone as a potential enemy until proved otherwise. I saw smiling men who smiled only with their eyes and I saw men look at us from under hooded eyes. They were the dangerous men and I marked them. My fears appeared to be groundless for we reached Brussels without incident and even arrived slightly earlier than we had expected, the journey having only taken two days thanks to sparse traffic on the road and clement weather. This time I had a room and the Captain disappeared to meet with his lady, leaving me to explore the town.
Thus it was that I reunited with Giovanni. It was not totally unexpected for I sought out the bar I had frequented when we had been in Brussels. He was sat in the usual place and greeted me warmly. I discovered that fate had intervened for his master had also returned to meet with his lady.
We spoke in Italian for I was keen to become skilled in other languages; I could already speak a little Flemish. He always addressed me as Giovanni for that was my name in Italian, “It is good that we are met for I have something to tell you. You see, Giovanni, that I fear we may be on opposite sides in this conflict and I wish you to know that if we have to fight then I will give you a swift death.”