by Griff Hosker
One horse began to move back down the road. “Lewis, get that horse! The rest of you gather the other horses. We need to move these bodies from the road else when dawn comes, they will be seen.”
I regretted having had to kill fellow archers but knew that it was necessary. When they did not return, de Montfort might assume that they had found a farm and the road north was clear.
When we had taken the horses to the farm we returned to the hill. “We bury them.”
Jack of Lincoln shook his head. “What for, Captain? They would have killed us without a second thought and left our bodies to rot where they lay.”
“We bury them because, when we die, I would hope that another would lay us in the ground and cover us with soil, and besides, this will be the ground where we fight on the morrow, and I would not have malevolent spirits in the air!”
“The captain is right. William and Mark, fetch tools and we will bury them by the road. Robin, fashion two of the bows into a cross. We will mark their grave.”
It was a couple of hours later when we finished. It was a dark night and hard to see, but we stood around the graves and bowed our heads. It was a case of there, but for the grace of God, go I. After they were buried, we walked up the dark road back to the farmhouse. The first action of the battle of Evesham had taken place. We ate and divided up the arrows and bowstrings we had taken. Leaving John in command, I rode back to Lord Edward. He was still camped at Alcester.
He was not abed, but was speaking with Baron Mortimer and Henry Almain.
The baron held up a piece of parchment. “My wife has sent me a letter, Captain. She commends our efforts thus far and asks for the head of the Earl of Leicester as a trophy! Think of the warrior she would have made if she had been a man! She asks after you, Captain, for you have made an impression on her.”
I saw that Lord Edward was slightly annoyed with the baron. “Enough of that, what have you to tell me, Captain?”
“The army of your foe is moving into the village of Evesham. We dispersed their scouts. It seems to me that they are heading on this road to ride to meet with the Earl of Leicester’s son.”
He nodded and stood. “That confirms the news your archer brought. Young de Montfort is now heading east towards Alcester. Mortimer, wake the camp! We ride now. I would be in place at dawn! Send the captain’s archer to him.” When he had gone Lord Edward said, “I ignored your advice the last time we fought de Montfort. Give me your assessment of the battlefield.”
“There is a hill, my lord, and it masks the line of advance from the north. You could hide your whole army there and those in Evesham would see nought. The road and the ground slope up from the river. It would suit horses, my lord, and the hill would allow archers to loose over the heads of the horsemen.”
He smiled. “And this time I have no king to tell me to ignore archers. We did so the last time, at a heavy cost.”
His cousin nodded. “Aye, a year of captivity and the mocking from our inferiors! I will not endure such an event again!”
Lord Edward nodded. “And the bridge?”
“It is narrow, lord. If many men try to cross it then it will become jammed.”
Outside, I could hear the noise as men were woken. It would take some time to arm and saddle, but Lord Edward would reach the field before dawn.
Baron Mortimer returned with Tom. Lord Edward said, “And have you chosen your men, Baron?”
“Aye, Lord Edward, they are all keen to have the honour of slaying the great rebel.”
“By your leave, my lord, Tom and I will return to my camp and observe the enemy movements. We are camped at a farm less than a mile from the hill. The farmer and his family moved out when I requested it.”
He smiled. “You and I have grown up in the last year, Gerald. I now know what I must do when I am king and you know how to fight a war. Together we can do great things! The battle this day is just the beginning!”
He turned to a chest and took out some red crosses. “This day, we all wear a red cross. It is the cross of the crusader and will mark us from the white crosses of the rebels. Have them sewn onto your tunics.”
Tom and I left a camp that was a maelstrom of activity. Every man of Lord Edward’s army was mounted. The men on foot were with Gilbert de Clare, and I worried that they might not reach the battlefield in time.
Captain William and Ralph saw me and waved us over to them. “Once more we will fight together, Captain. I am of the belief that we lost Lewes because we did not do so then. Today we will ensure that we win!”
“I will see you on the field at Evesham.”
I was weary when I dismounted at the farm. Peter rose from his bed to see to Eleanor and Bess. John was by the fire and he had some ham frying. He saw my look and shrugged. “The ham would have gone off and we will leave some pennies for the farmer. The bread we use would be stale by the time he returns.”
The smell of cooking ham drove all guilt from my mind and we ate the fried meat and bread. When I had washed it down with ale I said, “Today, there will be a battle. Rouse the men, and we will stand on the hill and watch the dawn. I would know if de Montfort has come.”
“Aye, Captain. It has been a long year, but now we can make the world right again!”
The food refreshed me. I handed out the red crosses to my men as they came into the kitchen to eat. “Lord Edward wishes us to have these red crosses on our tunics. The enemy wears white.”
Jack nodded. “And if they wear them over their hearts it will be a good target!”
We had needles and thread. It would not need to be pretty work, just so that it could be seen on the battlefield. That done, we took our bows and spare bows as well as all of our arrows. We were like pack animals as we climbed the hill. While Peter organised the arrows and bows, we stood on the crest. I now had my full company back together and felt satisfied. It was still dark and I could see the lights in the village. Men were there, moving around. The neighing of horses and the jingling of mail told me that it was an army. Dawn was not yet here and John of Nottingham said, “I know that we have no priest but I would make my peace with God before we fight this day. Ronan and Dick, son of Robin, fell at Lewes. I am not sure if they confessed.”
“You are right.” I laid down my bow and, facing the east, for there was a thin line marking the dawn there, knelt with the rest of my men. We prayed and we confessed. I made the sign of the cross and then asked God to forgive my sins past and the sins I would commit on the battlefield.
Each man said his own prayers and then stood when he was done. John of Nottingham was the last to rise. He smiled. “I am the oldest archer now, Captain. I have much to confess!”
We picked up our bows and stood on the top of the hill. I knew that we would be seen. That did not matter, for de Montfort would expect scouts. He would dismiss us as irrelevant, for he was a knight and regarded other knights as the superior weapon. We needed the height to be able to see into the village. From the noise, it became obvious that there was an army below us both in the village and before it. As the first rays of sun lit the village, I could see the army as it prepared. They had fewer horsemen than Lord Edward, and I could see that they had many who were neither men at arms nor archers. It was unlikely that they were the Londoners from Lewes; I guessed they were Welshmen. There seemed little order to their movement, but then they did not know how close they were to Lord Edward. They thought he was still in Worcester.
The hill was less than a mile from where their forward units were forming up. I saw de Montfort’s distinctive banner: red with a white gryphon upon it. We were indeed seen. Other knights rode to him and I saw them pointing at us. Behind me I heard Peter shout, “Captain, it is Lord Edward. He and the army have arrived.”
There had been a slight fear that de Montfort might send men to shift us from our lookout, but the arrival of Lord Edward meant that would not happen. David the Welshman pointed to the west. “Captain, in the distance I see the banners of the Earl of Gloucester; t
he rest of the army has arrived!”
We now had both elements of our army together. Young de Montfort was still on the road to Alcester. Lord Edward had a chance. He, Baron Mortimer and Henry Almain dismounted close to Peter and walked up the hill to join us.
When he reached us, he scanned the rebels as they arrayed. “You were right, Gerald War Bow, this is a good site for a battle. Cousin, have our men come around the hill from the east, we will form our battle lines before the hill. Captain, you will command the archers.”
“Yes lord.”
“Baron, you and your battle will be to the east of us. Send a rider to de Clare. I want his men to fill the line between the hill and the river.”
The two men disappeared. Lord Edward leaned in to me. “I will tell you my plan, for you deserve to know. De Montfort now needs me dead – and dead in battle. He still holds my father captive and I believe that, with me dead, he will have my father abdicate in his favour. I put myself in the centre to draw him to me. Then, de Clare will attack the enemy left while the baron will go for the head of the gryphon. You and your archers must kill as many knights as you can. Use bodkins.”
“You do not wish ransom, my lord?”
“No, for I will cut out the bad hearts of my nobility. I can always make new knights who will be loyal to me!” He clapped me on my back. “God speed, Gerald War Bow, and I shall see you after the battle.”
When he had gone, I said, “You heard him, bodkin arrows!”
While Peter fetched more bodkin arrows, I saw the enemy forming up. Already Lord Edward’s men at arms and knights were filtering around the hill as archers joined us and John placed them in position. The last to arrive was Gilbert de Clare’s battle.
I saw that de Montfort was not using a broad line of attack as at Lewes but a narrow point. His knights, gathered around his banner, would lead the attack. There were more than 200 of them. Behind them was the main part of his army, and it was a long, narrow column, led by mailed men. They were on foot. He was going to use his men like a human battering ram.
The enemy formed up on our right. John of Nottingham walked amongst the archers under my command to ensure that they all had bodkin arrows ready. He looked each archer in the eye as he walked along the line.
“Now remember, Gerald War Bow is our captain and this day he is yours. You listen to his orders. I have mighty hams, and I will use them to fetch a clout to any who disobey or are tardy in the execution of his commands.”
I had planned on giving a speech but now there was no need, for John’s words had the desired effect.
“String your bows! Select your arrows!”
I chose eight bodkins and jammed them in the soil. I had known archers to defecate and then dip the arrowheads in the dung, for that would make a poisoned wound which would be fatal. It was unnecessary. Today, we had the advantage of height and our bodkins would fall like rain. Their helmets might save some, but a bodkin in the shoulder or arm would disable a horseman. Some of their horses had mail, but even they would die when the bodkins fell. We would only stop once our knights engaged. Then we would change to war arrows and send them at the men on foot, who wore no mail.
The two armies were lined up. I saw priests moving amongst de Montfort’s men: Lord Edward had been shriven and our men were prepared. A horn sounded from the Montfortian side and the huge metal snake came towards us. I saw that, along the flanks of the charging horsemen, there were dismounted men at arms and knights. The Earl of Leicester did not have as many horses at his disposal as he might have liked. His knights would be equally matched with those of Lord Edward – Baron Mortimer and the Earl of Gloucester had twice as many knights as de Montfort.
“Draw!”
The range was extreme, but Lord Edward’s counter charge meant that we would only have a short time to use our bodkins. After the initial contact, we would have to release at those who were further back. Simon de Montfort seemed eager for battle and urged his mighty steed up the hill.
“Release!”
I had a hundred archers at my command and the arrows slammed into the rebels. The elite of the enemy were at the fore, and all had mailed horses and wore plate. A handful were hit and none fell, for our bodkins could not penetrate plate.
“Release!”
The second flight had more success as they hit knights and men at arms wearing mail. Ten, at least, were plucked from their saddles. The next five flights caused increasing casualties and then I shouted, “War arrows!”
The charge by the rebels had driven them deep into our lines. Gilbert de Clare led his men into the enemy’s left flank. Our war arrows had an instant effect, falling amongst those who wore no mail. Most did not have a helmet and few had a shield. Every arrow found flesh. After five flights and with the pressure of the Earl of Gloucester’s knights, the men on foot broke and fled. The rebel knights and men at arms fought on, but the backbone of the men on foot were gone. Their archers had barely a chance to draw their bows.
It was then I saw Baron Mortimer and his handpicked men. They charged into the right flank of the men around Simon de Montfort. The rebel lances had shattered in the first contact, so now the rebel knights defended themselves with their swords. I saw Roger Mortimer’s lance hit Simon de Montfort below the helmet, driving into his skull.
The rebel leader fell to the ground.
This was the point where, normally, knights would surrender, but not at Evesham. The knights around de Montfort were butchered. I saw Hugh le Despencer knocked from his saddle by Roger Mortimer. When he fell to the ground Baron Mortimer dismounted to hack into his body.
Sir John rode up the hill. “Lord Edward commands the archers to join the general pursuit. No prisoners!” Sir John wore no helmet and had a simple mail coif on his head. I saw the sad expression on his face.
I nodded. “You heard the command!”
Dropping our bows and arrow bags, we hurtled down the hill. By the time I reached the last stand of Simon de Montfort, Roger Mortimer was hacking his head from his body. His wife would have her trophy.
My men stayed close to me. We had swords and daggers ready. When you hunt, the most dangerous of beasts is the wounded one. The bridge would be like a stopper in a bottle, and when they knew they were to be slaughtered, then they would fight even harder. We ran through knots of rebels, surrounded by knights and men at arms. The enemy were being butchered.
Some of the other archers were faster than we were, and they were not staying together. Suddenly, I saw them begin to fall as they ran into a wall of steel. The men at arms who were fighting them knew their business and the archers were cut to pieces. I recognised the livery of the men who stood together, it was de Ferrers’ men at arms.
I saw Henry Sharp Sword as he ran through the captain of John de Warenne’s archers. His shield blocked the archer’s sword, and he drove his own sword under the rib cage to emerge at the neck. I recognised some of the men as having been in the woods when we had captured them, but I only had eyes for Henry Sharp Sword. He had a mail hauberk and a coif upon his head.
As soon as he spied me, he lurched towards me. “Now I shall have the price placed upon your head and I will take your head back to my lord!”
I think I might have died swiftly, had he not been so keen to get at me. I ignored his words and concentrated upon his sword and shield. He had forgotten that he was moving uphill, and the slope was slick with blood. His right foot slipped as he swung at me. I did not even need to block his strike with my dagger for it bit into the turf. I swung at his head. He was quick and his shield flicked up, but not quite quickly enough: I hit the side of his head. It was a glancing blow but I could see that I had dazed him. In addition, I had angered him.
I was aware of my men fighting his company. We outnumbered his men, though they were better armed. But I had my own battle to fight. Henry Sharp Sword moved towards me again, but this time he balanced his feet. I leaned away from his blow. So far, my dagger had been unused. I was slightly above him and h
e shuffled his feet around so that we both had one leg higher up the hill than the other; it weakened the benefit that height afforded me. I still had a slight advantage, for it was my right leg which was uphill and I would be swinging down at him. He swung at my leg, which was unprotected. I jumped in the air and, as I landed, my feet trapped his sword beneath them. It was my turn for fast hands, and my dagger darted out. I missed the eye I was aiming at, but drove the dagger through his cheek. As I ripped it out I sliced the bottom of his nose off.
He was now so angry that he forgot all he knew. He wanted to kill me at all costs. With blood pouring down his face he ran at me, swashing his sword. I danced backwards out of the way. It was a dangerous move as there were men fighting all around me. The last thing I needed was to trip on a body – then he would have me.
“Come back, you cowardly archer!”
I had been taught many years earlier that words could do me no harm. I was now looking for a blow that would end this quickly. He was bloody, but none of his wounds would slow him up, and he was still a most dangerous opponent. I preyed on his fear of my dagger and I lunged at his eye; it was a feint. He swept his sword up, but I was already swinging my sword at his head again. He did not bring up his shield in time, and this time my sword sliced through some of the mail links on his coif. I saw him stagger at the blow. I feinted again with the dagger, and this time he did not bother to block the blow. Instead, he swept his sword at my left arm. Fate intervened for my feet let me down and, as I stepped away, I slipped on the blood that covered the greensward. They let me down but also saved me, as the sword swept over my body.