by Griff Hosker
I saw my archers try to draw while spreading their legs; I did the same. I was offering advice, yet I had never done this either. Inwardly, I agreed with Jack of Lincoln: this was impossible. But I was the captain of Lord Edward’s archers. I had to appear as though I knew what I was doing.
I found that the motion was not as bad as I had expected. So long as I did not move my feet, the sway, the rise and the fall, were all a little more predictable than I had expected. I found that it was possible to keep the bow relatively stable even though my body moved. I compensated with my arms. We were all strong, and our arms were our most powerful weapon.
I selected a good war arrow. The heads would be lost; there would be no chance of recovering either arrows or heads. We needed more, and I would need to find a source when we landed at Chepstow.
The captain put the tiller over and we began to move towards Newport and the River Usk. I saw now what he meant about his galley and our consorts. With the wind and the oars, we led the other ships which all had sails. The tide and the wind helped. Travelling back upstream would take a longer time.
“There are twenty ships, Captain, and they are putting out to sea to meet us.” The lookout’s voice drifted down to us.
“Any standards?”
There was a pause as the lookout peered at the approaching fleet. “Aye, Captain, one which keeps to the rear has a red standard with a beast upon it.”
I grinned. “That is Simon de Montfort. He has put to sea.”
“Then we make for her. That will be the most valuable prize. Men, arm yourselves. The wind and the tide will take us to our foes,” said the captain.
The oars were stacked, and then the men armed themselves with a variety of weapons. I saw that short weapons were favoured, and most of the men had not only a short sword but a hatchet, an axe or a curved gutting dagger. Most wore a leather jerkin and had a leather cap upon their heads. Some wore helmets, but they were few and far between. As I watched the converging ships, I saw the brilliance of the plan conceived by de Clare. The approach of the army down the coast road would be disguised by the fleet of ships, for their attention would be on the nautical threat. When de Montfort was far enough into the channel, he would see Lord Edward and his army. What would he do? He could return to shore or try to battle his way through our ships, and the three galleys which led our fleet were like knights on warhorses. We were the most powerful vessels in this battle. If we survived the initial contact, then we would win. Of course, the opposite was equally true. If we lost then my company and I would die, and we would enjoy a watery grave.
Captain William One Eye was clever. Had we gone into action with oars run out, then we risked having men injured when the oars sheared. His crew cowered beneath the gunwale, and if we collided, they would not be the ones struck by savage splinters. The captain said, “When you are ready, archers; the enemy ships also have archers.”
I nodded. The nearest ship was approaching our larboard side and I turned to it. “Archers, I will try a ranging arrow.” If anyone was going to look foolish then it ought to be me. I was aware that I had the wind behind while the enemy archers would be loosing with the wind against. We were travelling faster than they were. I had told my men to loose at one hundred paces, and we were 200 paces from the leading ship. I would waste an arrow.
I pulled back as far as I could and aimed the arrow in the air. I was aware that all eyes, save the captain’s, were on me. I aimed at the centre of the ship and released.
I watched it soar. Normally, I would have nocked a second and not watched my flight. This time, I followed it as it rose. It seemed to hang in the air – that was the effect of the wind – and then it plummeted. I saw an archer on the ship drawing back on his bow. I had not aimed at him, but the wind, the speed of their ship and a little luck ensured that he was the first to die in the battle of the channel. The arrow pierced his skull. He and his bow stood on the gunwale briefly and then tumbled into the water. Our crew cheered and the battle began. The enemy archers took cover.
John of Nottingham laughed as he said, “Can we loose now, Captain?”
I nodded as I selected another arrow. “Aye. The wind, it seems, favours us.”
We began to drop arrows into the well of the ship. We could not see the effect, but the converging course meant all of our arrows hit something. The other two galleys were having the same effect, and the first three ships of de Montfort’s fleet were all under attack. The captain of our ship pushed home his advantage and he closed with the leading ship; it was bigger than ours with a forecastle and an aft castle but, in the centre, our gunwales would be the same height. My men cleared the forecastle of archers, for arrows were no longer returned, and men with shields appeared. We switched to the aft castle as the lookout shouted, “Captain, the last four ships are putting back to Newport! The red standard falls back!”
I heard Captain William One Eye curse, “Then the richest treasure is gone. Let us take this one first, eh, lads?”
We could now see the effect of our arrows as our ship rose and fell. We had hit many men. I saw our hulls approaching each other rapidly and I shouted to my men, “Brace!”
I grabbed a rope – the sailors called them sheets. It was fortunate that I did, for there was a crash and the sound of wood splintering; tiny shards flew into the air. Lewis Left Alone tumbled to the deck.
The captain shouted, “To the steerboard side, Captain Gerald, there is another vessel there.”
We could no longer send our arrows into the Montfortian ship as his crew were swarming aboard ours, and we heard the sound of slaughter. It was the hack of savage weapons and the scream of men who were dying. There was a second vessel, which had escaped the attention of the galleys. She was attempting to turn, to head back to Newport. The rest of our fleet laboured towards her.
I nocked an arrow and loosed it. As the rest of my company joined me, we sent arrow after arrow towards the ship, which seemed to take an eternity to turn. As the ship was manoeuvring, its tiller came closest to us. We cleared the quarterdeck and she lost way. One of our ships struck her and the crew quickly surrendered.
The ship our own crew had attacked also surrendered. Our captain had clearly done this before. He left a small crew on board and then set off after the fleeing fleet. It would be a race to catch them before they made the safety of the Usk and Newport.
My men and I now had our eyes in, and we managed to capture one more ship by the accuracy of our arrows, which incapacitated the men steering the enemy ships. I saw now that ships had a vulnerable and fatal weakness. If the steersman was killed then, no matter how many men there were on board, the ship was lost.
We stopped just 400 paces from the shore. To go closer would be to risk attack by archers and crossbows, which sheltered behind walls and shields. We were close enough to the shore to see Lord Edward, the Earl of Gloucester and the rest of our army approaching the bridge over the Usk.
Captain William One Eye nodded and smiled at us. “I thank you and your archers, Captain Gerald. We are all rich men this day, for we have captured two ships and all that they contain. I am an honest man, and this day, you were part of my crew. I take half and the crew shares the other half. I promise you, Gerald War Bow, that you will receive a just share, and should you ever tire of fighting for Lord Edward, there will be a berth for you on my vessel – for I have never seen bows used so well. You put the Welsh to shame!”
“I thank you, Captain.”
The lookout’s voice drifted down again. “Captain, they are signalling from the shore. They wish to speak with you.”
“Oars!”
We headed in to the beach where I saw the Earl of Gloucester and his squire. They had waded their mounts into the shallows to speak with us. “Well done, Captain! What news of de Montfort? Is he taken?”
The captain shook his head. “His ship put back into the river.”
“Is it possible to land our archers?”
The captain turned to me. “It will
be waist-deep water, can you manage that? For I dare not go closer and risk grounding. The tide is on the turn.”
“We can manage that, eh lads?”
Jack of Lincoln was already placing his bow in his bow case. “No offence, Captain One Eye, but I would like solid land under my feet the next time I loose an arrow.”
I unstrung my bow and put it in my case as the captain used his oars to edge us as close to the shore as we could manage. I wrapped my cloak around my neck to keep it dry. I also took off my boots. It was a wise decision – Robin of Barnsley did not. I landed in the sea and the shock of cold water almost paralyzed me, but the water came over the top of Robin’s boots and that, allied to the shock, knocked him from his feet. John of Nottingham and I were close enough to grab and steady him. Tom grabbed his bow case, which was floating away. We struggled ashore and then watched the archers from the other two galleys have the same difficulties we did. More of them were doused. I dried my feet on my cloak and, while the others sorted out their wet gear, I walked across the sand to the road, where Lord Edward awaited us.
He smiled. “We have no time to waste, for I wish to get to the bridge as soon as we can. It may be that we can end this rebellion here and now. Follow us when you can. I know you are on foot, but we will try to get some horses for you.”
“Aye, my lord. It will take some time to dry off. We will follow when we can.”
The army moved off, and the three galleys headed back to Chepstow with the six captured ships, now crewed by our men. The other companies of archers each had their own captain and at least one was older than I was, but I served Lord Edward and so they deferred to me.
“We have a three-mile walk to the Usk. Let us step out smartly. If any horses are spied let me know, for I would rather ride than walk. Tom, take the fore!”
We were in enemy territory and so we strung our bows. The baggage train had already passed us, and we had a road that was empty except for the piles of dung left by the animals. That hampered our progress. The road had been built, I guessed, by Henry the First, to connect the castles of Chepstow and Newport. Consequently, it headed directly north and west.
We soon left the low-lying ground, which went from beach to swamp to bog. There were patches of high ground to our right, and hedges and small copses. None of us were used to marching and our progress was slow. The rest of the army was mounted. Sometimes, fate intervenes, and that suggests an order from some higher being. The Earl of Gloucester’s men were struggling and so I, reluctantly, ordered a halt. Tom was out of sight, having just crested a rise, and so I hurried after him. I saw him as I reached the high ground; he was sheltering behind a dry-stone wall.
He heard me and did not turn. “Get down, Captain! Horsemen!”
I dropped next to him and he turned. “Sorry, Captain, but there are thirty horsemen ahead and I think they are the enemy, for they trail the baggage train.”
I raised my head above the wall and saw, on the slope to the right, the thirty horsemen. They had tried to hide behind trees, but the sharp eyes of my archers spied them. The high point we were on allowed us to see the baggage train, and it was less than half a mile away. The last few miles had seen us catch up with it. I shaded my eyes and looked at the shields. I recognised the livery; quartered red and white with a black diagonal – they belonged to Hugh le Despencer, who had been King Henry’s chief justiciar. He had gone over to the rebel side, and I had killed some of his men after Lewes. I saw that they were descending to the road, but they had to negotiate a steep hill. We had time.
“Wait here and I will fetch the men.”
I scurried back and said, “To arms! There are horsemen ahead. String your bows and be ready to loose as soon as I give the command.”
There were forty of us and we outnumbered the horsemen, but if they were well led and they turned on us rather than the baggage train, then this could end in disaster. I was aware of the weight of leadership upon my shoulders. As soon as we reached the rise, I saw that they were crossing to the road and the leading riders were just thirty paces from it. They were strung out in a long line and were less than 150 paces from us. They were riding good palfreys and could cover that distance quickly.
I nocked a needle bodkin. Tom rose from concealment as I joined him and he also nocked a bodkin. I could not afford to wait for all of our men to reach me, and as soon as there were fifteen of us, I shouted, “Loose!”
My shout and the sound of the bowstrings, allied to the whoosh of arrows, alerted the horsemen. It was too late for four of them, who were plucked from their saddles. The others reacted quickly and pulled up their shields. I saw that three more had been hit by war arrows, and the riders were contemptuously brushing them off.
“Use bodkins! Are you fools?”
I was not shouting at my men for I knew that they would have nocked bodkins. We should have emptied more saddles. As the other archers scrabbled around for bodkins, my men and I sent another flight of bodkins at the enemy, but the horsemen were now charging us. As more archers arrived, they too nocked arrows – but I knew that some of them had also used the wrong arrow. It cost them. My men and I were together and our arrows threw men from their saddles, but the horsemen to my right were using their shields for protection, and fifteen of them struck those archers who had made the mistake of using the wrong arrow. Archers have neither helmet nor mail, and ten archers fell to swords. We cleared the men to our fore and turned to loose at the horsemen. They had, however, carved a path of destruction and escaped.
“Grab the horses! John, have men search the dead.”
I ran to the dead and dying archers – the wounds were terrible to behold. Captain Harry, the leader of the Earl of Gloucester’s men, had half of his jaw hanging off. The sword had also bitten into his shoulder. He tried to talk but could not. His eyes pleaded with me to end his life. I was about to do so when God showed his mercy and he died. Captain Ralph led the rest of the men. They came from many lords. Evan, Baron Wigmore’s archer, was with them.
Captain Ralph shook his head. “A horrible way to die. He could not even ask God for forgiveness!”
Evan closed the dead captain’s eyes. “He and his men had not enough bodkins. That is why they died. They must have wasted them in the sea battle.”
I stood. “We saved the baggage train. We will bury our men here, it is the least we can do.”
We used the hatchets and swords of the dead to bury them. Their arrows we would take, but their bows were buried with them. I mumbled some words over them, but I was no priest and hoped that God would understand.
There were ten horses and Captain Ralph and I rode two, while the rest went to eight of my men. We draped the mail over the saddles and strapped the swords onto our belts. The archers who walked now moved more quickly, for they had seen the folly of moving too slowly. However, we still did not catch up with the army until we reached the bridge over the Usk.
I saw then that we were too late. Simon de Montfort had destroyed the bridge. There would be no decisive battle of Newport. The wily old campaigner had managed to evade battle.
Chapter 15
I had led the detachment of archers, and it was my responsibility to report the sad news to Gilbert de Clare. He was with Lord Edward and the other nobles. They had commandeered a house on the east side of the Usk. I was admitted by one of Captain William’s men.
They looked at me expectantly. “I have to report, my lord, that we surprised a company of horsemen who were about to attack the baggage train. We engaged them but we lost twelve archers, including Captain Harry.”
Lord Edward’s eyes narrowed. “Who were they?” To him, it mattered more whence came the horsemen rather than the loss of archers.
“They were men at arms, and they bore the livery of Hugh le Despencer.”
Baron Mortimer smacked one fist into the palm of his other hand. “That damned traitor! He was rewarded by your father, my lord, and this is the way he pays him back!”
I turned to the E
arl of Gloucester. “I am sorry about your captain and archers, my lord.”
He nodded, almost absent-mindedly. “What? Thank you, but the loss of a few archers is better than the loss of the baggage train.”
I wondered if my death would have the same effect. Captain Harry had died, and his lordship seemed unconcerned.
Lord Edward said, “We retrace our steps to Gloucester. Once there we will make our plans. Sir Gilbert, you know this land better than I, what can de Montfort do now?”
“He has lost the opportunity to travel by sea. I would say that he will travel through the Black Mountains. He still holds strongholds on the west of the Severn and he will regroup. Hereford still holds out for the rebels.”
Lord Edward looked at me. “Captain Gerald, now is the time for you and your men to find out where the rest of the rebels are to be found. Gloucester, how long for de Montfort to reach his strongholds?”
“Nine or ten days.”
“Then you have that time, Gerald, to find the enemy. You will need horses.”
“We captured some.”
“Good, then take others. I will be in Worcester. Bring me word as soon as you can.”
I hesitated. Once I would have said, ‘Yes, my lord’ and scurried off like a good little boy. I had changed. “My lord, if the rebels are in the Midlands or London, even the south coast, then it might take me ten days just to reach there.”
Lord Edward rubbed his chin. “You are right. Then let us say if you have not returned in ten days then we will assume the rebel army is not close.”
I nodded. “Or that we are dead or captured, which amounts to the same thing!”
He laughed. “You are my rabbit’s foot, Gerald, you cannot die! I forbid it!”