Crécy
Page 25
“Luke, hold here. We will go to the aid of the others. Take yourself a sword.”
Covered in the blood of the man he had slain he nodded, “Aye, the bastards will pay for slaying Hob, that I swear!” When men fought alongside each other then they were closer than brothers!
I reached Robin and Alan of the Woods as the two of them used their arrows to hit two Swabians standing atop the rampart. I helped Joseph who had been knocked to the ground to his feet and retrieved my axe. I heard the horn behind me and knew that help was on the way, but I could still see, further down the fighting platform, three swordsmen who had broken through. This time they had broken through a part held by our men at arms.
Alan of the Woods risked a look over the top, “They are falling back, Captain, and there are just those three left.”
“Then stay here and Michael and I will deal with them.”
“Be careful, Captain, these men have slain men at arms.”
I laughed, “As have Michael and I. We can deal with them.” I suppose it was arrogance, but I felt in no danger. Perhaps if I had been mounted on a horse fighting such men then I might have been, but this was almost like street fighting. The fighting platform was narrow and fine strokes meant nothing. It was a will to win and the ability to kill which counted.
I saw that the one who led the three wore a yellow surcoat. He was one of the household of the leader of the mercenaries. The way the other two followed him confirmed that. They did for him as Michael did for me and it was the yellow surcoat which was hewing its way through our men at arms. Michael and I picked our way through the bodies which littered the fighting platform and it was a slip by Michael, who lost his footing, which alerted the two men guarding yellow surcoat. At the same moment, they turned and faced me. They both came at me and that helped me for the rampart to their right stopped them making a good swing with their swords. Until now the rampart had been their friend preventing the defenders from making clean strokes and now it helped me. Holding my hand and a half sword behind me I raised my short axe. The movement distracted the nearest swordsman, it was a heartbeat only, but it was enough for I used my legs to stride closer and swing my sword at him. He blocked it with his shield, and I hacked down with my axe. He stopped my blow with his sword but the axe head bit into the back of his hand. Michael lunged beneath my axe with his sword and it sliced through mail links to enter the mercenary’s side. The other brought his sword around to take Michael’s head. Robin’s arrow slammed into the screaming and triumphant mouth of the mercenary. I finished off the man Michael had wounded and saw the last mercenary. He was ten feet from me and was about to skewer a man at arms. I hurled my axe and caught him squarely on the back of the helmet. He fell forward and, racing to him I sheathed my sword and drew my dagger to slit his throat. I pulled his unconscious body around and raised my dagger. I halted in mid-strike.
Michael said, “What is it, Captain? Finish him off.”
I shook my head, “I cannot, I know him, he is my friend, Giovanni d’Azzo degli Ubaldini.” Fate had conspired to bring us together. Behind me I heard a cheer as the last of the attackers was slain. “Quickly, Michael, take his surcoat from him and I will place the other two bodies on his.”
It was as I was laying the two swordsmen on him that Giovanni’s eyes began to open. He saw Michael first and then his companions. His eyes widened and his hand went to his belt. I said, urgently, “Hold Giovanni, it is John Hawkwood and I am trying to save your life. Feign death until dark.” He had ever been clever, and he nodded. We dropped the body of the last swordsman across it as Robin came along.
“It is over, Captain, what goes on here?”
Robin was one of my men and I would not lie, I pointed to the discarded yellow surcoat, “It is an old friend and I would save his life.”
Robin nodded, “Aye, for the King will have all mercenaries strung up.”
“Michael you stay here. Strip the bodies of their treasure. The Prince will expect to speak with me.”
Michael nodded and Robin said, “We will all watch. We lost men but these mercenaries carry full purses with them! They must have been paid in advance.” He held up a jingling purse.
I left them and headed back along the top of the rampart for the fighting platform was littered with bodies. I counted six dead archers. The fact is that we had slain far more of the enemy, but the loss still hurt. I met the Prince and the King close to the place that the mercenaries had broken through.
King Edward nodded at me, “We watched you despatch those men at arms, Hawkwood, and we owe you and your men a great deal. We should have kept a better watch. Rid the fighting platform of the enemy dead and we will have you relieved before dark. You and your men deserve a night of rest for you bore the brunt of the fighting.”
I nodded, “Aye, Your Majesty, and we will bury our own dead with honour.”
I went back down the line and cupped my hands, “Hawkwood!”
My archers made their way to me. I saw that they were all laden with booty taken from the dead. We would mourn our own losses but this had been a victory for us. Every archer knew that this was their fate, one day.
“Throw the bodies across the ditch, when you have taken what you need. Then fetch the bodies of our own here and when our relief comes, we will take them hence to bury them. Robin, Michael and I will deal with these three mercenaries.”
My archers left us, and we lifted the two bodies from Giovanni d’Azzo degli Ubaldini. He smiled, “You were always clever my friend. What now?”
“I owe you much and I will give you your life. Take off all that marks you as a man at arms. Keep your sword and your purse. Michael and Robin, fetch Hob’s body and take off his cloak. Giovanni can wear it.” While they were away, I said, “There are ships leaving our mole each day. You can take a ship, unless, of course, you wish to go back to Italy!”
He shook his head, “That is the last place I will go for they have a plague, the Great Death they call it, and it is sweeping the land. It will come here.” He held his purse up. “With this I can start again. Perhaps I will go to England. The sea might keep it safe from the pestilence. It is a shame about the helmet and the mail but so long as I live, have my sword and purse then all is not lost!”
I smiled and helped him to his feet. Giving him a bow. I said, “You can keep your mail and your helmet. You will pretend to be an archer, take a bow and carry it. Hang your helmet and your mail from your shoulder. You will look as though you have looted the dead.”
Robin and Michael appeared with Hob. I took the cloak and fastened it about the Italian’s shoulders. When I pulled up the hood then he looked like an archer. I stuck Hob’s hat on his head to complete the illusion.
Just then Captain William arrived with our relief. “Well done, Hawkwood, I am sorry that you lost men. Enjoy a night of rest. We will take over.”
“Aye, Robin, you fetch Garth, we will take Hob.” I slung Hob’s body over Giovanni’s shoulder; he was laden for the mail was over his other shoulder and his helmet hung from his sword. I had the purses from the two dead swordsmen, and I carried their mail. Michael carried their swords and helmets. We headed back to our camp looking like every other archer who had survived and was taking his booty back.
While my men tended to wounds, and after putting a bandage around the Italian’s head, covering one eye, I left with Giovanni for the mole where supplies were embarked.
As we walked, I asked, “And what happened to your lord?”
He shook his head, “Your Lord Henry and his men killed him in Gascony. He was not a very good warrior, but I managed to take his mail and horse from the field of battle. I knew where he kept his treasure and I headed for Paris where I created the man at arms you see.” He leaned in, “No one checks on a man’s origins if he has money, mail, a horse and a sword.”
It was outrageous, of course, but I now saw a way for me to become a man at arms. I knew that day was some way off but I now saw it. Meeting Giovanni had helped me, on
ce again.
Even as we arrived a small cog had just finished landing some flour. We approached the captain, “I have a man here needs to get to England. Can you take him?”
The Captain was suspicious, “Is this authorised, vintenar?”
I pointed to the bandage, “He has lost an eye. Have you ever heard of a one-eyed archer?”
The sea Captain softened, “Come aboard, we leave soon.”
I clasped Giovanni’s arm, “Go with God my friend.”
“Our lives are now bound, John, and not just by our names. We will fight together again, that I know. I owe you a life.”
“You owe me nothing for we are friends!”
He stepped aboard and this time I knew that I would see him again, I just did not know where or when.
Epilogue
The siege ended a few days later. King Philip had gambled and lost. The mercenary attack had been the last throw of the dice. He and King Edward agreed for the Pope to arbitrate and it proved to be in England’s favour. We kept all that we had taken and the jewel that was Calais was the greatest prize. We stayed in France until the end of October. I told my men of Giovanni for I wanted no rumours nor bad feeling amongst my men. They understood the bond and swore silence. We had little enough to do after the truce and King Edward was keen to pay us all off. In truth, we were keen to leave France for the pestilence which had struck Italy had spread through Genoa to southern France. Refugees were fleeing away from the disease, but the only safe place would be across the channel in England. God and nature would protect us from the disease which would be named, the Black Death. We were wrong but we did not know it then.
We crossed to England as rich men. We had our booty and the King had paid us in full. Calais had been a rich town. The French population was evicted and the ships which took us home brought English settlers keen to make money.
We reached England in November in the year of Our Lord, 1347. Our lives were about to change dramatically but as archers, the elite of England, with full purses, we did not care about our future. Robin, Michael and I headed for Southampton. I now had more treasure but instead of giving it to Basil of Tarsus, I intended to buy somewhere. I had a plan and the first part of that was to become a gentleman. I needed land and I needed training. I would become a man at arms and lead my own retinue. Robin and Michael were happy to be the first of my men! Gascony and Crécy had changed me and given me a dream. My future was in my own hands and I would mould myself into a warrior!
The End
Glossary
Fictional characters are in italics
Battle- a military formation rather than an event
Bastard Sword-One requiring two hands to use. The shield hung from the left arm
Brigandine- a leather or padded tunic worn by soldiers; often studded with metal
Chepe- Market (as in Cheapside)
Chevauchée – a raid on an enemy, usually by horsemen
Cordwainer- Shoemaker
Gardyvyan- Archer’s haversack containing all his war-gear
God-Damns -derogatory French name for Englishmen
Harbingers- the men who found accommodation and campsites for archers
Oriflamme – The French standard which was normally kept in Saint-Denis
Rooking- overcharging
Spanning hook- the hook a crossbowman had on his belt to help draw his weapon
Historical note
John Hawkwood was a real person but much of his life is still a mystery. At the end of his career, he was one of the most powerful men in Northern Italy where he commanded the White or English Company. He famously won the battle of Castagnaro in 1387. However, his early life is less well documented, and I have used artistic licence to add details. He was born in Essex and his father was called Gilbert. I have made up the reason for his leaving but leave he did, and he became an apprentice tailor. It is rumoured that he fought at Crécy as a longbowman and I have used that to weave a tale. It is also alleged that he was knighted by the Black Prince at Poitiers. This first book in the series and, indeed, the second will be largely my fictionalised version of his life.
Those of you who are regular readers will know that I try to use the actual facts whenever I can and that is true here. I had never really read about the Gascon Chevauchée of Lord Henry. He deserves a whole series to himself for he was truly an amazing leader. The battles of Bergerac and Auberoche happened the way that I wrote them, and the Norman campaign of 1346 is also very accurate. The blind king of Bohemia being led into battle beggars belief but I can assure you I did not make it up! The casualty figures and the ransoms paid were also truly astonishing. The highest estimate of English and Welsh deaths at Crécy is 300 while most believe it was around 40. The French, in contrast, lost a whole generation of lords and knights. The next generation would fall at Poitiers. I could not resist having Hawkwood at Neville’s Cross and Crécy. They both happened in the same year. Once again, the incompetence of the French was only matched by that of the Scots who managed to outnumber a scratch army of Northern lords and lose not only their knights but their King!
Who knows what would have happened if the Black Death had not reached England in 1348? The plague had struck England regularly but the Black Death, which had its origins in the east was something far more deadly. As I write COVID-19 appears to have much in common with the plague!
Griff Hosker
April 2020
The books I used for reference were:
French Armies of the Hundred Years War- David Nicholle
Castagnaro 1387- Devries and Capponi
Italian Medieval Armies 1300-1500- Gabriele Esposito
Armies of the Medieval Italian Wars-1125-1325
Condottiere 1300-1500 Infamous Medieval Mercenaries – David Murphy
The Armies of Crecy and Poitiers- Rothero
The Scottish and Welsh Wars 1250-1400- Rothero
English Longbowman 1330-1515- Bartlett and Embleton
The Longbow- Mike Loades
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