by Griff Hosker
King Richard pushed his point, “This is a good place for a battle. We have eaten well and we are ready to fight. What say you? Will you fight or will you bend the knee and quit the field?”
I think he might have bent the knee had not King Maelsechlainn Ó Cellaigh suddenly spat out, “We fight you! You are no man or else you would have already sired a child! You are a lover of men, and as such, we despise you!”
I wondered if the unpredictable King Richard would erupt from within and rise to the bait but he did not. He nodded, “Then we fight! You have priests with you, confess now, for if I have my way, none of you will survive the day!”
As we walked back, he said, quietly, “Will, Dick, what did you make of the bodyguards of the kings?”
“They look to be hard men but any of our sergeants could take them. They wear no mail.”
It was as though he had not heard Dick. He turned to the Duke, “Uncle, your plan is a good one. We will have the archers in the hill fort. Earl Gerald, you and five of your knights will fight with the men at arms. They need a leader. Your standard will draw them to you. Dick of Craven, you will dress in my spare surcoat and wear a visored helm. You will stand with my standard at the rear of the sergeants at arms.”
I looked at Dick who shrugged and said, “It will be an honour, Your Majesty.”
We reached our lines and the Duke began to give his orders. The Irish were still forming up their lines and our men at arms and knights were already drawn up before the hill fort. “Ralph, fetch Jack. We mount on the eastern side of the hill fort. Send Tom to stand by Alan of the Woods. This is no place for him.”
We passed through the men at arms. I saw Roger and my men, “Do you fight with us, lord?”
I shook my head, “The Earl of Kildare will command. The knights will be led by the King and we will attack when the Irish are committed.” I lowered my voice, “Dick of Craven will be the bait to draw them on. He will be dressed as the King.”
Roger’s head slumped forward. He and Dick had served together. He knew what it meant. The Irish would try to get at the King. They would send their best warriors and they would find but a sergeant at arms. His surcoat might be the King’s but the plate he wore would not be. He would be sacrificed.
The King needed to use every knight and squire for his attack. We would be vastly outnumbered. However, we would have an advantage of men in our mounted charge. A charge by heavy horse was irresistible. The squires would form the rear rank of the four. Without Dick of Craven, the King insisted that his uncle and myself flanked him. We took our horses to the hill fort’s southwestern slope so that we could view the battle and best judge the moment to attack.
I saw Dick of Craven now attired as the King. He and the rest of the King’s guards made their way through the serried ranks of sergeants to stand at the rear of the three lines beneath the royal standard. I saw that Roger and my men jostled their way to stand close to him. The Earl of Kildare stood with his five knights and amongst his own men at arms in the second rank. There were more men at arms gathered on the western side of the hill than I had seen in a battle since the war in Castile. Even so, they were outnumbered many times by the mass of Irishmen who now began to advance. The Irish sent half their men in the first wave. There were over five thousand men but it was hard to judge for their lines were not even. They had banners but I did not know how many men they represented. I estimated the number.
The Duke had fought in more battles than I had and he made a keen observation. “They are using this first attack to probe for weaknesses. They hope to make inroads into our lines and then send the second attack thence. They will keep their mounted men for the end. I do not think they know we keep our knights here.”
Once again, their knights and kings did not advance. They sat on their horses looking like English knights. The difference was the hundred or so bodyguards whose half-naked bodies gleamed in the sun which just peeped out from behind grey clouds. The elevation of the hill fort would allow our archers to loose their arrows over the heads of our men. Thanks to the King’s slaughter of the innocents they would not have as many arrows to thin the numbers as they would have wished but I saw, from the speed with which the Irish approached, that the archers would have a shorter time to kill them. I was not close enough to hear the individual commands given by Alan but I saw the two hundred arrows sail high into the sky and, while they were plunging down to tear into flesh, a second two hundred rose and began to fall. I saw the effect immediately. The Irish shields were but simply made and they did not stop the arrows. Worse, the first flights caught the Irish with their shields held before them. Alan had spread his archers in a long line to maximise the area he could target. As the arrows continued to fall, they struck more and more men. The weight of arrows was towards the centre of the line. It looked like a farmer had taken his scythe to a field of wheat and swept it across. The odd warrior in the line had been lucky enough to survive but, after a few flights, where there had been a thousand men there were now just thirty or forty staggering forwards. Not all the rest were dead but they were, effectively, out of the battle. The two wings of the Irish struck our sergeants at arms. Their best men, those who had been the bravest and the most experienced, now lay dead or wounded. When the warriors on the flanks struck, they were met by walls of steel which held them.
The Irish leaders had not prepared as well as they might but now, they reacted. I heard horns sound and the second attack began. This time the men in the front ranks had shields and they came more slowly. They were trying to protect themselves from the arrows. I was aware that Alan had stopped sending arrows. The King was too, “Why have the archers ceased their attack?”
“I am afraid, King Richard, that they may run out of arrows if they continue to expend them at the present rate. I am guessing they save the rest for this next attack.”
The Duke nodded, “Besides, they could not send them for fear of hitting our own men. The two battle lines are now joined.” He pointed. The Irish and the sergeants led by the Earl of Kildare were now engaged in battle. Spears probed, swords flashed. Metal hit wood and mail. Although our men had armour and shields there were so many Irish that, inevitably, some of our sergeants fell. When an Irishman fell, five raced to take his place. When a sergeant fell there would be a single man to step forward. Already, in places, our three lines were now two. It took longer for the second attack to reach us and all the time the perimeter of sergeants’ spears grew fewer. When Alan’s archers sent their next flight, it had an effect. It halved the attackers but the slower approach and the shields bore the brunt of the attack.
The King said, “It is time.”
We turned our horses and rode down the slope to join the knights. We took our place at the head of the column. John and Ralph were behind me. The standard would be next to that of the Duke. The King’s standard was with Dick of Craven. The enemy would think that the King was one of the Duke’s knights. They had similar surcoats. Both displayed the lions and the fleur de lys. John handed me my spear and the rest were handed spears and lances by their squires. With our arming caps, coifs and helmets the sound of battle was muffled but we could still hear it. We had no sight of it. The Duke lowered his spear to signal the advance and we began to trot. The ridges lay to the north of us and we rode parallel to them. We would be hidden from the Irish. Once we had cleared the western edge of the ridge we would turn and begin our charge. We would have just eight hundred paces between us and their kings. It was a bold strategy. The Duke was counting on the fact that, while the Irish army would be greater than ours, we would outnumber the kings and their guards and we would be attacking them from their flank.
When we emerged, we were just a hundred paces from the main Irish attack. The warriors were milling around the southwestern end of our defences. Our men were holding and the Irish were so engaged that they did not see us. We began to canter and our war horses ate up the ground. As soon as they began to thunder it had an effect. The warriors felt the ground shaking. Some o
f those at the rear of the Irish line feared we were going to attack them and they turned and began to flee. As they did so, they were struck in the back by the arrows of our archers. Horns sounded for their leaders had seen the threat. They knew that we were attacking their kings. If they were calling back their men then it was too late for we were already closer to the kings than their rear line and we were mounted. If they had charged us with their knights then there might have been a chance that they would have stalled our attack but they did not. Their bodyguards formed a wall before us. I saw that they had shields but they were not large ones and they were not uniform. Some were round, some rectangular and some oval. They would not be able to lock them. There were just two hundred men and we had a line one hundred men wide. We rode with our spears and lances held in the air. When we were just one hundred paces from the line the Duke shouted, “Charge! For God, King Richard and England!”
As I lowered my spear, I spurred Jack. I preferred the slightly shorter spear to a lance. The end was easier to control and here the extra length of the lance was unnecessary for we were not facing lances. We faced bodyguards with shields, swords and axes. I knew now why the King had asked me about the bodyguards. He realised we would face them first and I had trained him well enough for him to know that you sought an enemy’s weakness. The kings and their knights had withdrawn forty paces behind their bodyguards. I knew not if that was so that they could run or charge us when we broke through their lines.
I pulled back my spear as I approached the line. I saw the man I would kill. He had a large oval shield and held a long-handled war axe. He was screaming at me. I gambled that the shield was like the ones the other Irish used and just made of a simple board without lamination and metal. As he raised it to protect himself, I rammed my spear at it. It splintered and broke the wood driving long slivers into his face and chest. The spear continued and entered his chest. The head scraped off bone and then, as it struck something vital, the head broke and he fell dead. I was already dropping my broken shaft and drawing my sword as I pulled back on Jack’s reins to make him slow and rear. His hooves clattered down on the shield of the man in the second rank. I heard a shout as the shield and the man’s arms were shattered by the impact. As the shield fell, I brought over my sword to hack into his neck and he fell. There was no one between me, King Richard, the bulk of our horsemen and the line of Irish knights and kings.
Not all of our knights had broken through. I saw that one of the Earl of Kent’s knights had been dragged from his horse. I wheeled Jack and rode at the two Irish men who were raising their weapons to slay him. My sword slew one but the second hacked his axe across the chest. John, holding my spare spear, rammed it into the Irishman’s head. The knight had died but he had been avenged.
The King shouted, “Charge their kings. Let us end this!”
Even as I turned to obey the orders, I saw that the mass of Irishmen had disengaged from the attack on our sergeants and were streaming towards us. That was the moment when King Cathal mac Ruaidri Ó Conchobair should have charged us but he had seen his bodyguards slaughtered and, instead of charging, he fled. Their horses were fresh and ours had charged. They were blown. The Duke took charge. He knew that with a start of fifty paces we would not catch them, “Turn and face the others! This battle is not yet won!”
Ralph was still with me. I saw that he had drawn his sword. He held the reins and the standard in his left hand. He was a good horseman but he had yet to be tested in a battle. I shouted, “Stay close by me!”
We turned and cantered towards the Irishmen who were hurtling towards us. They had to be weary. They had run to fight. They had fought and now they had run back to fight us. Carrying a sword and a shield wearied a warrior. I dug my spurs in and rode towards a knot of warriors who had small shields and swords. They had to be from the same clan. Sir Henry was with me and his squire, Peter. In a confused mêlée such as this, you concentrated on one target at a time. You relied on your squires to watch your back. That is what Sir Henry and I did. As we closed, I waited until the last possible moment to spur Jack. His sudden burst of speed took the leading Irishman by surprise and his tired arm was still raising his sword and shield when my blade took the top of his head from his body. I back slashed down at the next warrior and my sword cut into his neck and shoulder. John still rode with his horse guarding my left side and he brought his sword across the arm of the next Irishman who saw my left side exposed and thought he had me. Henry and Peter slew two more. Suddenly the one whom John had struck leapt from behind me. His right arm was half severed but he held a dagger in his left. He used the body of a dead comrade to leap up onto Jack’s hindquarters. I felt his arm come around my chest to pull me from my mount. I would have died had not Ralph slashed his sword across the man’s spine. His back arced and he fell from Jack’s back.
“Thank you, Ralph.” I turned to view the battlefield. The Earl of Kildare was leading the sergeants and archers to attack the rear of the Irish line. With horsemen to the fore and a mass of horsemen behind them, the Irish knew that they were defeated. Their kings had fled and they joined them. They ran and we began a hunt which took the rest of the day. We chased them at the pace of a weary man. They stumbled and fell. When they rose, a sword would end their pain. We stopped because we did not wish to kill our horses. We had killed many Irishmen but more had escaped. They would return to their villages and tell the tale of the day the King of England’s wrath was visited upon them.
There was little joy in our victory for we were exhausted and we had been as butchers and not warriors. The sensible knights dismounted and walked their horses back through the body littered field. What little there was evaporated when we found Dick of Craven’s body. He and six of the King’s guards had been hacked to pieces. Dick’s head had been taken from his body. Roger and my men at arms were laying out their bodies when we returned. As the King followed us, I saw genuine remorse. He knelt by the bodies of his dead men and he bowed his head in silent prayer. His ruse had worked but at what a cost. Dick was irreplaceable. As the Captain of the Guard, he had been the last barrier between the King and an assassin. Now that barrier was gone.
The enemy dead were stripped and their bodies piled inside the hill fort. We pulled down the palisade and made a pyre from it. As the sun set, we burned their bodies. While we watched it burn the King said, “And tomorrow we will fill in the ditches with the ashes. This hill fort will be no more.” The people who had lived there had been sent hence. No doubt they were still heading towards distant parts of Connaught to be as far away from the dreadful English as it was possible to get. After we had buried our dead, we ate. None had an appetite but we knew we needed to put food in our bellies. I sat with John and we flanked Ralph. Tom had watched the battle and he was silent.
“You saved your lord’s life today, Ralph. What would you have as a reward?”
He gave a wan smile, “Nothing, my lord, for I did the least of all. Your arm must be weary for you must have slain more than twenty men this day.”
“I did not keep count but I know that I was wielding an iron bar and not a sword by the end. John, you will need to put a good edge on it.”
Tom said, “Let me do this, father, for I just watched men die this day.”
I nodded.
Ralph asked, “Will we fight again?”
“The kings escaped and we will follow. I know not if there is a stronghold in Galway but the Irish King made a mistake when he insulted King Richard. There will be a price to pay and it will be a most terrible one.”
They asked me no more but I knew that the King had changed. He had turned from mourning the memory of his wife to destroying his own good reputation. He was beginning the journey from king to tyrant. I saw it that day at the battle of Beannchar na Sionna.
Part Three
The Tyranny of King Richard
Chapter 15
We left the next morning with the hill fort destroyed and the smoke from the fires still hanging in the air.
We had lost many men. It was not just Dick of Craven and his loyal men who had died. There had been others, knights included. Only our archers had been spared losses. We headed west. As we rode, we found the bodies of those we had slain and then the bodies of those that had succumbed to their wounds. It was almost dark before the road was clear. Some had fled a long way to die alone. The corpses acted as a marker to the lair of the kings. We found them the next day. Perhaps they thought we would have given up the pursuit or maybe they overestimated the numbers who would have rallied. As soon as we were seen, the gates of the stronghold opened and the Bishop of Galway came out to ask for talks of peace. I was a warrior and I was not involved.
We were ordered to pillage the town and the countryside. Galway was a rich town. By the time we had finished, it was impoverished. We emptied warehouses and the homes of the rich merchants. We took food from granaries and the abattoir. We took pickled fish from the fish quays. We left nothing. We were a vengeful army. We had all lost friends and King Richard’s army took it out on the men and women of Galway. Even while the King of England was discussing the peace terms, the Irish were being punished. The peace talks went on for two days. It gave us the chance to heal our wounded and to help our horses to recover. The terms were harsh. The Irish Kings who had fought us all had to swear not to attack the English earldoms. In addition, hostages were taken. They were women, daughters and sons. They would be housed in the castle at Dublin. Of course, there were other Irish Kings who had not fought. There was no such surety for them. The Uí Néill from the north of the island had kept dangerously quiet.
The Earl of Kildare expressed his doubts about the northern clan but the King, who was in an ebullient and confident mood, dismissed them. “We have shown the Irish who rules this land. I want columns of our men to return east and, on their way back to Dublin, destroy any castles which might offer opposition again.”