Young Henry: The Rise of Henry VIII

by Robert Hutchinson

  At last, on 21 July, Henry left Calais in the midst of 28,000 men, 3,500 of whom surrounded the king as close protection. On either side of the army were two wings of archers and soldiers armed with bills79 and at the front and rear of the straggling column were protective screens of field artillery.80

  That night, the army huddled in damp tents, encamped near the small town of Fréthun, well fortified by nature with an impassable marsh on their left, and their artillery on the right. Taylor recorded: ‘Such heavy rains fell in the afternoon and night, that the tents could scarcely protect them.’ In conscious mimicry of Henry V’s actions in the small hours before Agincourt, the ‘King did not put off his clothes, but rode round at three in the morning comforting the watch – saying, “Well, comrades, now that we have suffered in the beginning, fortune promises us better things, God willing.”’81 Once again, it was ‘a little touch of Harry in the night’.82

  Back home, Katherine of Aragon was worrying about her husband. She wrote to Wolsey, who was accompanying the expedition, begging him to report frequently on Henry’s health: ‘As he draws near the enemy, I will never be at rest till I often have letters from you.’ She was confident that the king would return ‘with as great a victory as every prince had’.83

  Henry, of course, was thoroughly enjoying every minute of the campaign. On the afternoon of 25 July, he entered enemy territory near Ardres and at dawn the following morning, the camp was wakened by an alarm, falsely warning of the approach of enemy forces. The king’s German mercenaries then ‘mischievously burnt’ some fortified houses and ‘did not respect the churches’. Henry led a detachment of his guard in clearing the town of his rioting and pillaging troops and hanged three of the Germans that night.

  More serious was the loss of the cannon named ‘St John the Evangelist’ – one of the brand-new ‘Twelve Apostles’ artillery – which toppled over into a pond. One hundred pioneers were sent to dig the three-ton cannon out and set to work, stupidly without posting sentries. They were surprised by a French raiding party who killed or wounded most of them, using guns or crossbows, and seized a bombard (or siege mortar) called ‘the red gun’.84 The old English weakness of military ill-discipline and poor training had raised its ugly head again. Later the cannon was dragged out of the water by a team of Flemish mares and safely returned to the English artillery lines.

  A few days later, the army reached Tournehem with its castle. The army’s passage was barred by the fast-flowing River Hem and when his officers hesitated to ford it, Henry impulsively led the way, wading into the waters and scrambling up the far bank.85

  At last on 1 August the king reached Thérouanne. His columns of troops were welcomed by a violent rainstorm that turned the fields around the town into a sea of mire, forcing the soldiers to wade ‘up to their knees in mud’. Henry now took charge of the siege operations.

  Ten days later the Scottish herald, Sir William Cumming of Inverallochy, Lyon King of Arms, arrived in the English camp and delivered an ultimatum from his master, James IV. The Scottish king demanded that Henry

  desist from further invasion and utter destruction of our brother and cousin [Louis XII] to whom … we are bounden and obliged for mutual defence, the one of the other, like as you and your confederates be obliged for mutual invasions and actual war; certifying you we will take part in defence of our brother …

  And we will do what thing we trust may cause you to desist from pursuit of him.86

  The king instantly discarded the normal courtesies of chivalry and diplomacy. Angrily, he rounded upon the startled herald, shouting:

  I am the very holder of Scotland – he holds it of me by homage! And he to summon me, [who is] here for my right and inheritance!

  Tell him there shall never [be a] Scot [to] cause me to turn my face.

  Where he says the French king to be his ally, it would be much better agreed and become him, being married to the King of England’s sister, to count the King of England his ally.

  Tell him if he be so hardy [as] to invade my realm or cause to enter one foot of my ground I shall make him as weary of his part as ever was man that began any such business.87

  Then, in more measured tones, Henry declared he could not ‘easily believe that his brother of Scotland would break his solemn oath [to Ferdinand, not to invade] but if such was his intention, he doubted not that he would repent it’.88

  He wrote a letter to James the next day, pointing out that the Scots alliance with Louis XII was ‘especially dishonourable’ but that he was confident, with his friends, of being able to ‘resist the malice of all the schismatics and their adherents by the General Council excommunicate’. Henry added ominously that James should note well the fate of the King of Navarre, who after helping Louis was ‘now a king without a realm’.89

  On 15 August a riot broke out between the English troops and the German mercenaries in the camp – embarrassingly just as the Emperor Maximilian arrived for a meeting with the king. The disturbance escalated rapidly into furious fighting and the Germans seized some of the heavy siege guns and trained them threateningly on the English. In response, some archers, ‘greatly fumed with the matter’, loosed off a few arrows and the Germans regrouped into their traditional defensive wall of pikes. Senior officers managed to restore order quickly: Maximilian was impressed by their reaction and ‘was glad to see the discreet handling’ of the danger by these captains.90

  That night came fulfilment of some of Henry’s boyhood dreams for battlefield renown.

  The French planned to resupply the besieged city with sides of bacon carried by horsemen, protected by a force of cavalry. It seems likely that the English were forewarned by spies and they had time to stage a deadly trap. Ever thirsting for action, Henry decided ‘at midnight to attack them in person [and] mounted [up], spear in hand, the emperor doing the same’.91

  Dawn broke and the French had not appeared. Maximilian, courteously wearing the red cross of St George over his armour, suggested to Henry that some light guns be positioned on the crest of a small hill, near the village of Guinegatte, south of Thérouanne, protected by archers lining the hedges below. The king agreed and at four in the afternoon, after a long, boring and anxious wait, the trap was sprung.

  The leading elements of the French cavalry were confronted suddenly by a strong force of English horsemen and pulled up in surprise, only to fall under fire from the guns and volleys of arrows from the archers. Fearing encirclement, they turned tail and almost immediately crashed into their comrades coming up behind. Chaos ensued and the panic-stricken French fled the field pell-mell, ‘throwing away their spears, swords and maces’ in their haste (Plate 14). They were pursued and hunted down by the English who captured nine standards and two hundred and fifty prisoners, led by Louis d’Orléans, Duc de Longueville, René de Clermont, Vice-Admiral of France, and Louis, Marquis of Rothelin. The speed of the French flight led to the contemptuous name – the Battle of the Spurs – given by the English to this brief clash.

  That night Henry graciously dined with his noble captives, bidding them ‘good greeting’ and cladding Rothelin in an expensive gown of cloth of gold. A jarring note to all this magnanimous chivalry was sounded by the Frenchman, who refused to sit down to eat with his enemy, but the king was having none of that and told him brusquely: ‘You are my prisoner and must do so.’92

  Although the French force was routed, the fight was a far cry from a second Crécy or Agincourt, although Henry (who had taken no part in their pursuit) naturally hailed it as such. The queen also loyally waxed lyrical at her husband’s feat of arms:

  The victory has been so great that I think none such has been seen before.

  All England has cause to thank God [for] it and I especially, seeing that the king begins so well – which is to me, a great hope that the end shall be like.

  I think with the company of the emperor and his good counsel, his grace shall not adventure himself so much as I was afraid of before.93

  In truth,
the Battle of the Spurs was little more than a skirmish but the final failure to resupply the embattled town led to its surrender at nine o’clock on the morning of 23 August. Over the next two weeks, Thérouanne’s fortifications were systematically destroyed and its buildings burnt, save for the cathedral and the adjoining homes of the clergy.

  Henry was jubilant at the town’s capture. Cardinal Bainbridge in Rome – that walking embodiment of the adjective ‘obsequious’ – claimed his master’s glory was truly ‘immortal’.94 The king convinced himself that the road to Paris now lay wide open to him and announced that he intended ‘to have himself crowned King of France’ there.95

  Twenty-four hours earlier James IV, at the head of an army of 35,000 men, had crossed the River Tweed at Coldstream to invade and pillage northern England.

  Henry decided to send his noble prisoner Longueville to Katherine ‘as a present’ to live in her household until he was ransomed, or a peace treaty signed with France. The homely queen, ‘horribly busy’ embroidering battle flags, was none too happy about this idea, as she was planning to lead reinforcements northwards towards the Scottish border. She told Wolsey ‘there is no one to attend upon him except Lord Mountjoy who is going over to Calais’. Better that he be sent to the Tower, ‘especially [with] the Scots so busy as they now be and I looking for my departing every hour’. She ended: ‘Pray God to send us good luck against the Scots [such] as the King has had’ in France.96

  Maximilian meanwhile convinced his gullible English ally to besiege Tournai, a city on the borders of his dominions in the Low Countries, rather than attacking more logical strategic objectives such as Boulogne or Montreuil, which would have enhanced the defences of the English Pale around Calais.97

  Henry arrived at Lille in early September – ‘a place having much the appearance of an island in the middle of a marsh’ according to the chaplain Taylor. The English king was paying a courtesy call on Margaret of Savoy and his arrival was greeted by its inhabitants in enthusiastically large numbers.

  Girls offered crowns, sceptres and garlands. Outlaws and malefactors with white rods in their hands sought pardon.

  Between the gate of the town and the palace, the way was lined with burning torches, although it was a bright day and there was scarce room for the riders to pass.

  Maximilian sent Henry ‘a great bull’ as a present, although Taylor thought it was a strange gift, aside from its ‘unwieldy size’.98 The Milanese ambassador was completely overwhelmed by the splendour of it all:

  The most serene King of England entered this place, with about two hundred men-at-arms and his guards … with great pomp.

  His majesty wore a white tunic over his armour and thirteen boys [?pages] went before him.

  The horses had trappings of solid silver and their cloths were of rich gold [on one side] and the other … of black velvet, with numerous gold stripes and the fleur-de-lys of France.

  [Margaret of Savoy] went to meet him on the palace staircase and made him a deep reverence, while he bowed to the ground to her.

  That night, the king boisterously danced with Margaret ‘from the time the banquet finished until nearly day, in his shirt and without shoes’. Henry also gave her ‘a beautiful diamond in a setting of great value’. Henry was ‘wonderfully merry’ and postponed a conversation with the Milanese ambassador Paulo de Laude to another time ‘as he was in a hurry to go and dine and dance afterwards. In this he does wonders and leaps like a stag.’99

  The flirtations continued. After dinner Charles Brandon knelt before Margaret and ‘drew from [her] finger [a] ring and put it upon his’. He pledged himself her ‘right humble servant’ if she would ‘do unto him all honour and pleasure’. Henry, it was reported, might have promoted the relationship between his old friend and Margaret. Afterwards the rumours of their possible marriage embarrassed the king who threatened death to those who spread this gossip, although in truth, it was probably Henry himself.100

  A week later, Tournai was invested by the English and Imperial forces and siege works – gun emplacements and trenches – dug around its walls. It seemed a softer nut to crack than Thérouanne; the Milanese envoy reported that the besiegers ‘walk close to the walls daily and the king himself does so occasionally for three hours and a half at a time’.101

  Henry received news there from his wife of the crushing defeat of James IV and his army on 9 September at Flodden Field in Northumberland by the seventy-year-old Earl of Surrey and his 23,000-strong army.

  My lord Howard has sent me a letter by which you shall see at length the great victory that our Lord has sent your subjects in your absence.

  This battle is to your grace and all your realm the greatest honour that could be and more than [if] you should win all the crown of France.

  Thanks be to God for it and I am sure your grace [will not] forget to do this, which shall be cause to send you many such great victories, as I trust he shall do.

  I send your grace a bill found in a Frenchman’s purse of such things as the French king sent to the King of Scots to make war against you.

  Surprisingly warlike and bloodthirsty, Katherine dispatched James IV’s torn and bloody tabard, bearing his arms, recovered from his mutilated body, to Henry as a proud trophy of war.

  Your grace shall see how I can keep my promise [to protect England], sending you for your banners a king’s coat.

  I thought to send himself to you but our Englishmen’s hearts would not suffer it.

  My Henry, my lord of Surrey … would know your pleasure in the burying of the King of Scots’ body.102

  The queen then departed for the Shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham to offer up thanks for the victory, in which the Scots lost 12,000 killed, around half their number that fought that day. Almost every Scottish noble family had lost a father, son or brother.

  Henry triumphantly passed on the news of Flodden to Maximilian Sforza, Duke of Milan. After the Battles of the Spurs and Flodden, his Tudor swagger was impossible to suppress, including playing down the importance of the Scots’ initial gains:

  The King of Scots himself with a great army invaded our realm of England and first took a little old town belonging to the Bishop of Durham, already nearly in ruins and practically unfortified and … almost deserted.

  He then advanced four miles (6.4 km) into our realm. There the noble lord, the Earl of Surrey, to whom we had committed the charge of repelling the Scots … met them in a battle which was long and fiercely contested.

  With the Almighty … aiding the better cause, our forces emerged victorious and killed a great number of the enemy … and put the rest to flight, captured all their cannon and plundered the whole camp.

  The king added a postscript: ‘Since these were written, we have received news that the King of Scots himself was killed … so he has paid a heavier penalty for his treachery than we would have wished.’103

  Henry celebrated the news with a feu de joie, a carefully timed rippling salvo of 1,000 cannon, declaring: ‘I will sing him a death knell with the sound of my guns.’

  Surrey, the victor of Flodden, was rewarded by being ‘honourably restored unto his right name of Duke of Norfolk’ – his title lost after Bosworth when the Howards had fought for Richard III. His eldest son was created Earl of Surrey in his place.

  Tournai surrendered after eight days’ siege. The king wrote to Leo X, pointing out that the news of Flodden and the city’s capitulation demonstrated clearly that ‘God is fighting on behalf of the Holy Alliance’. He had intended to pursue the French army ‘but they fled so rapidly that I despaired of overtaking them’.

  Henry announced that he was returning to England ‘now that winter is close at hand and the Scotch affairs are urgent’. He also planned to meet his Parliament, which had been summoned for 1 November.

  The king promised Leo that he would return ‘as soon as possible with a larger army and prosecute the war with all possible vigour’.

  The court poet Bernard André penned some short Latin
verses in praise of his ‘invincible’ master, invoking the ‘deities of land and sea, whose duty is to guard England’s crown’. For Henry, ‘neither plunder nor bloodshed is the aim of his arms; instead is sought the return of dominions rightly due his sway’.104

  But Henry did not return to France in full fighting fig for more than three decades to try again to claim that inheritance.

  8

  HOME AND ABROAD

  ‘I am contented with what I have. I wish only to govern my own subjects. Nevertheless, I will not allow anyone to have it in his power to govern me – nor will I ever suffer it.’

  Henry VIII to Sebastian Giustinian, Venetian ambassador, June 1516.1