by Griff Hosker
I embraced her, “At least I know the reason!”
When we departed, the next day, I left purses of coins for my uncle and my sisters. My mother would have none of it, but they would have some recompense for siding with me.
I felt as though a weight had been lifted from my shoulders as we headed up the Roman road to Northampton, then Lincoln and York. The journey north also helped me to formulate my plans. I was a warrior and a captain. I would hire my own company and pay them from my purse. We would hire out to the highest bidder. My only rule would be that I would never fight against the English. I knew how to fight, and I knew what kind of men I wanted. I would visit with Captain Philip and pick his brains. Winter in the north of England would be peaceful and give me the chance to become Captain John!
I had never been along the Great Northern Road for I had sailed to Scotland when we had been there with King Edward. Travelling the road at the end of September showed it at its best and its worst. We saw the richness of the land as the crops were harvested but then we had storms of biblical proportions. I had bought good horses for my men and a well-oiled cloak for Michael; we endured the storms. With so many men in France, there were fewer travellers upon the roads and the inns were reasonably priced. Word had yet to reach this part of England about our great victory, but men had heard of the Earl of Lancaster’s victories and were keen to hear more of them. When we spoke of Crécy I think that they thought we were exaggerating. It did not worry me for we knew the veracity of our words. The further north we travelled the more the talk was of the Scots. There were rumours that King David sought to take advantage of the absence of so many English soldiers and planned to invade the north of England. An army was in the process of being mobilised at Richmond in North Yorkshire under the supervision of William de la Zouche, the Archbishop of York, who was Lord Warden of the Marches.
As we headed for the ferry at the Tees, Robin said wryly, “So much for being able to enjoy a winter of peace in the north. It seems that we have come to a conflagration and might just be singed a little ourselves!”
I feared he was right for as we crossed the ferry on the Tees, I saw mailed and armed men marching from the castle of Stockton and heading north. Hartburn was not far away and the picture there was the same. As we headed up the road, we saw men bidding farewell to their loved ones. I wondered if we had come too late. When we neared the village of Hartburn, we met a pig farmer, Cedric, who pointed us towards the farm of Captain Philip. “By your garb and your war gear I can see that you are archers, if you are here for the muster then it is further west at Barnard Castle for the Scots, it is said, are massing north of the Tweed. Captain Philip leads the archers of Hartburn.”
“What of the Lord of the Manor?”
“There is none at the moment. The Bishop is busy, it is said, in London and in France. When time allows, he will appoint another, but Captain Philip is a soldier and he organises the archers. His farm is yonder and close to the two becks.”
I frowned at the word for I had never heard it, “Becks?”
He laughed, “I can hear from your voice that you are a southerner. A beck is a stream. Follow the greenway and you will find the path which leads up the slope to his hall.”
We crossed a small stone bridge to follow the roughly laid path between hawthorn and rowan to the small hall of Captain Philip. I saw that he had cattle and sheep in the field. I could not see the captain as a ploughman. Dogs barked as we neared the hall and by the time we crested the rise, the Captain and his men were there with weapons at the ready. I saw that the hall was an old wooden one and in some disrepair. I wondered at that but briefly for as soon as he recognised me Captain Philip’s face lit up!
“Mathilde! We have guests!”
His wife came to the door and I saw that she was nursing a baby. She too smiled, “John Hawkwood, it is good to see you!” She hurried indoors and I dismounted.
The Captain said, “I fear that if you are staying the night then you will have to use the stable for my hall needs to be enlarged.”
“Do not worry, Captain, we have endured worse. Michael, Robin see to the horses and our gear.”
The Captain suddenly recognised Robin, “Robin Goodfellow! It is good to see you too!”
“I wondered if you had forgotten me, Captain.” He waved a hand at the land and the hall, “The rewards for being a fighting man, eh?”
The Captain nodded, “Something like that! Although others might call it a pit into which a fighting man throws his hard-earned coins.” He turned to me. “It is good to see you, John, but what brings you here? I would have expected you to be in France still with Lord Henry and Sir Ralph.”
“I have much to tell you, but we came here thinking that we could spend some time with you for I have plans and I need your experience to sharpen them.”
“Aye well, that may well have to wait for the Scots are abroad and up to mischief. They have realised that King Edward and the Earl of Lancaster are in France and Gascony and seek to come south. The Scottish King David has mustered a large army and they will come south soon. I am to lead the men of Hartburn.” He put his arm out to lead me into his hall and he suddenly stopped, “Perhaps, John Hawkwood, God has sent you here.” He lowered his voice. “It is rumoured that the Scots have an army of over twelve thousand men, and I cannot see the muster raising more than six thousand to oppose them. We might lose. It is not your fight and you would have no pay, but I ask you and your companions to come with us so that I may leave three of my men here to guard my family. I now have a young son. When any army raids there are those who are brigands and bandits. They seek to cause mischief. If I could leave three men here…”
I nodded, “I will have to ask Michael and Robin, but I would say aye. The pay does not worry me for I know my skill and even though it is piss poor Scots we fight, I will find enough coins and metal on the field to make it worth my while. When do we leave?”
He smiled and I saw the old crafty Captain of Archers I had first met in London, “The muster is to the west of here, but I will delay our departure until the Scots come closer. Your men and I will be the only ones mounted and having men tramp west to return east seems a little pointless. Hartlepool is a place that King David will wish to take for it was from there that Longshanks, the Hammer of the Scots, sailed to crush them and the land north of Stockton and south of Durham is rich farmland. He can feed his army and cross the river. Stockton castle is no fortress. The Scots will avoid castles if they can. They will come through the Palatinate and that is but half a day from here. We will wait.” Robin and Michael approached, “And now let us go within and enjoy some ale. There is a good alewife in Hartburn, and I am anxious to hear your tale.”
The hall was a cosy one but I could see that it needed work. Mathilde had a woman to help cook and a nurse for the baby, John. We crowded around the table but that only made it more convivial and comforting. I had always liked Mathilde. She had not been a young woman when she had married, and the baby was unexpected. The joy they both had in the child was touching. The food and the ale were good. We told the tale of the war, but we did not go into the detail of Michael’s life too deeply out of consideration for the lady. However, she was a clever woman and I saw her piecing together the elements we left out.
I changed the subject when I saw tears forming in her eyes and asked about Hartburn. “The farm had been almost derelict when first we came. Almost all of the coins I had earned went in the first six months as we made it habitable. Prices were high this year and our animals yielded many young. If they had not then I fear we might have starved.”
“Captain, if you need coins, I have two chests on my sumpter. I would have nothing but for you. If you need it then you are more than welcome to it!”
He shook his head, “That is more than kind, John, but I will not take your charity. A man stands on his own two feet.”
“In truth, Captain, it is a burden for me. Consider it a loan. When we go with you to the muster, I shall h
ave to leave the two chests here in any case.”
“Then we shall watch over it for you.” He raised his beaker, “A toast.” We stood. “To brothers in arms who never forget and to the backbone of England, its archers!”
We enjoyed a delightful evening. Mathilde retired when John demanded food and the four of us sat and talked. We were able to go into greater detail about the battle and even Captain Philip was astounded at the small number of men we had lost.
Word reached us two days later that the Scots had invaded Cumbria and destroyed the castle at Liddell Peel, massacring the garrison there. The castle at Carlisle had paid gold for them not to head south and so the army had come east along the military road south of the Roman Wall. We prepared to leave but another rider arrived the following day to tell us that we were to head to Durham for the Scots had ravaged Hexham Abbey and were heading south! Our peaceful winter in Hartburn looked like it would be a warlike autumn instead!
Chapter 15
After the numbers of men we had marched with in France, the twenty men Captain Philip led felt a little paltry. Half had bows and the other half had old swords, billhooks and spears. One or two had helmets and Michael felt like a veteran in his brigandine, helmet, riding a horse and with a good sword in his belt. We joined other local men as we headed north through Norton, Wulfestun and other tiny hamlets to head north to Durham. By the time we reached Bowburn just south of Durham, there were more than a hundred of us. Captain Philip’s service as King Edward’s archer meant that the other local leaders acknowledged him as their captain. We had heard, from refugees fleeing south, that the Scots were at Beaurepaire Priory just north of Durham. They were demanding money from the monks. At the same time knights came from the south and west to tell us that five hundred mounted Scottish men at arms under the command of William Douglas had been defeated at Merrington by Lord Ralph Neville. We were ordered to join the army in Durham itself. The war had begun and this time it was not French, Gascon and Flemish farms which were being burned, it was English ones and that made it personal!
When we arrived, we were directed to the west of the town walls where we would serve under the command of Lord Neville. The Scots, we were told, had headed for a piece of high ground known as the Saxon cross; it was north of the town. Captain Philip went to the council of war and we found somewhere safe for our horses. As we entered the camp, I estimated that we had some six thousand men. As the last report had said, the Scots had more than twice that number which meant that Lord Neville would be outnumbered by two to one. I did not know him but I hoped he was as good as Lord Henry or Sir Ralph! Some of the men who had come with us from Hartburn and Stockton were a little apprehensive about fighting these Scots who had destroyed abbeys and slaughtered farmers already.
Cedric the pig farmer laughed at some of the concerns voiced by the untried men, “The Scots make a lot of noise, but they are poor warriors. They fight in great banks of long spears called schiltrons.” He nodded to me, “These archers will be able to slaughter them and if they try to get at these lads then,” he patted his long axe, “we will show them that any one Englishman is worth two Scots!”
Walter of Whitton also came from Hartburn. He was not young, but he had not fought before, “Is it right master, what Cedric says?
I smiled, “I am not a master, Walter, I am a vintenar and the captain of twenty, but he is correct. We fought the French and they had many times our number. They were mailed lords and rode great warhorses, yet we defeated them. They died and we lost a handful of men and just two knights. If you will take my advice when this is over then put aside that spear and learn the longbow. It will take you some years to learn but Robin and I can loose a dozen arrows in the time it takes to have a piss! We may lack the numbers of the Scots, but Cedric is right, we are worth more on a battlefield!”
They were heartened and the mood improved. I saw now why Captain Philip had been so keen to have us with him. We were professionals and we would stiffen the untrained. When he came back, he told us that we were assigned to the men led by Lord Neville and would form part of his battle. The three battles had the same formation. We were to the left of Lord Neville’s dismounted men at arms. We had two hundred archers with us but, on the other side were over a thousand Lancashire bowmen. They were considered the best left in England. Lord Percy and his battle were to our left and the Archbishop of York to our right. We slept in our formations. When dawn broke it was a misty morning. We ate where we stood and watched for the mist to clear. When it finally did, we saw the might of the Scottish army. We had heard it arriving in the night. King David had chosen his ground badly for although they had the high ground, before them was broken ground. Their strongest weapon, the long spear, needed flat ground for it to be used to best effect. They would have to wait for us to attack or risk becoming disordered. I saw that the front rank of each schiltron had axemen to defend the spears. Their light horses and men at arms guarded their flanks.
Captain Philip nodded and appeared satisfied, “We can only hope that they try to attack us for if they do then we will slaughter them.”
Michael asked, “Can we not attack them, Captain?”
“Attacking uphill over rough ground is never a good idea and so we will wait. The Scots are an impatient foe and they believe that they can defeat us. They will either attack or we will anger them and make them come! Either way, we can make ourselves comfortable.”
This felt like Crécy all over for we sat and waited as the morning mist evaporated; we drank from ale skins and ate some of the food we had been given by the burghers of Durham. It was noon before there was any movement and then it was a summons from Lord Neville for his captains. When Captain Philip came back, he said, “John, I want you and Robin to come with us. I am to lead some of the Lancastrian archers to attack the Scottish right. We will see if we can stir them. We will collect your arrows first.” The Captain’s wound meant that he would not draw a bow but use his skills as an archer to direct the rest of us. We filled our war bags with fifty arrows, and each carried another sheaf of fifty. An archer could get through many arrows!
There were hobelars and Scottish archers on the flank we were to attack. The Scots did not use the longbow and their arrows were also not as good. Our one thousand archers took up a line one hundred and fifty paces from the Scots. Captain Philip was on his horse and he ordered, “Draw!”
I had not drawn a bow since Calais, and I felt it. I would have to practise more often or I would lose some of the power I had once possessed.
“Release!”
We each sent ten arrows in quick succession. It proved too much for the hobelars and archers whose numbers were thinned dramatically as our arrows rained upon them. Leaving almost half of their number they fled. I selected a bodkin for I could see that we faced the Earl of Moray and his men. Some of them were dismounted men at arms and knights wearing mail and plate. We sent twenty arrows into the battle and we had our reward when the Earl of Menteith led mounted men at arms towards us in an attempt to rid their flanks of the annoyance that was English archers. That day showed me the potential of archers. We should have been ridden down for we had neither stakes nor pits to protect us, but we did not flinch, and I emptied my second war bag as the Scots charged towards us. They had courage but courage alone is of little use. Our bodkins, sent at almost touching distance, meant that nearly every arrow brought down a man or struck a horse. The Earl was lucky and he made it to within ten paces of us before an arrow slew his horse and Captain Philip rode forward to capture him.
That proved too much for the Scots and as the survivors limped back to their rear King David ordered an attack by the whole army. Lord Neville had succeeded in goading the Scots into action. Captain Philip showed his skill as well as his poise, “The archers will fall back in good order. Release three arrows and walk back twenty paces and repeat!”
We were helped in our fighting retreat by the fact that the schiltrons were having to negotiate rough ground and were moving s
lower than we were. We were using a flat trajectory and Robin and I covered each other which made us even safer. I loosed and Robin stepped behind me. As I walked back, I nocked an arrow while Robin sent his arrow. In this way, we were able to hit the Scots who were closest to us. It helped that when the spearmen fell, they caused those behind to stumble and the whole, cumbersome schiltron slowed even more. Robin and I had almost emptied a second war bag each by the time we reached our men at arms and took our place behind them. Robin and I made our way to fight with the men of Hartburn. For this battle, they would be our brother’s in arms. We had one war bag of arrows left and I gave that to Robin.
“I will stand in the line with Michael and the others.” Captain Philip, having delivered his prisoner joined me. Neither of us had a shield nor mail but I was not afraid for the schiltrons which advanced towards us did not even have a brigandine!
I took my hand axe to use as a shield and held my hand and a half sword in my right hand. The bascinet I wore and the arming cap beneath, along with my leather brigandine were my only protection. Michael was next to me and he had his shield as well as a coif. He was too young yet to do much other than to protect my right side, but this would be a good experience for him- if he survived.
The Scots who had preceded the spears had all been slain by our archers so that all we had to do was to avoid the hedgehog of spears. The archers behind us had had their supply of arrows replenished and they thinned out the enemy as they approached. Some Scots managed to keep coming even though they had two or even three arrows sticking in them. They would succumb to their wounds eventually, but they looked like men determined to stay with their brothers! I admired that. The first spears were spread far enough apart for us to either avoid them or to chop at them with our swords. They were an unwieldy wooden weapon. Michael blocked two with his shield and I knocked a third up in the air before stepping into the gap we had created to ram my sword into the screaming face of a red-bearded Scotsman. I tore the sword out sideways and spattered the men next to him with blood, bone and brains. I quickly stepped back as a spear came from further back. I hacked at the wooden shaft with my axe and bit a huge chunk from it. Even as I rejoined Michael I saw an arrow, I knew it to be Robin’s from the fletch, strike a Scot in the chest. The range was so short that it buried itself up to the feathers! The other archers were sending arrows into the sky and when they descended, they struck Scotsmen.