by Griff Hosker
It was the King who spoke for them. “Do not disparage these men, gentlemen. I have seen them and whilst not noble born they will give a good account of themselves and the Earl has a good plan which has my full approval.”
William was resplendent in the King’s robes. He rode a fine horse while the King was dressed in a plain surcoat and rode a palfrey. He was playing the part of Sir Robert’s squire. Garth carried the King’s banner and he too wore the King’s device. It was a ruse. If it succeeded it might give us an unlikely victory. The scouts had told us that the Welsh had many hundreds of archers and spearmen. Our one advantage was that their only armoured men were their knights. Even my archers had padded gambeson and leather vests studded with metal. They wore a simple round helmet and carried a sword. My archers could fight with bow or sword. Most importantly they would ride to battle. The Welsh scouts would think that they were light horsemen and would not fear them.
We rode up the road which ran by the Taff River. We could not manage a stealthy approach. There were too many of us. The Welsh knew that we were coming. We had intelligence about their defences. They were using the wooden castle at Caerphilly to anchor their line. The ground rose from the valley side and the slope would sap the energy from our horses. The Welsh who had taken over the farms of de Clare’s people fled. The ones they had driven from their homes were either dead or waited in Cardiff. The fyrd of Glamorgan marched with us and they were eager for vengeance on the Welsh. Until the Normans had come with King Henry’s great grandfather there had been few farms. It had been the first Marcher lords who had cleared the land and made it productive. That was one of the main reasons that the Welsh wanted the land so desperately. De Clare and his people had done the hard work and they wished to benefit.
We only had eleven miles to travel and we reached the Welsh lines at noon. We formed our battle lines as we neared the Welsh. They had quickly embedded stakes. The stakes were to protect their spearmen and archers. Obligingly they had arrayed their knights in three lines before the stakes. We had three battles. I was with the fake King, William, in the one at the centre. De Clare led the men of Glamorgan on the left and Musard, the Sheriff of Gloucestershire, the rest of the knights on the right. The fyrd were arrayed in three ranks behind my mounted archers, the King and his bodyguard. The King and the archers would look like a reserve of horsemen. Sir William of Hartburn’s squire, Robert, carried my standard and my son’s squire, Henry, the horn. Their signals would be vital to our success. The Bishop of Gloucester had ridden with us and he blessed us and our standards as we gathered for the attack. My son William was prominently at the fore. He had to be seen. It was his build and his surcoat which would deceive the enemy. Only his eyes could be seen. My son was excited at the honour. To him it was a game. As he turned to face our men he raised his arm and they cheered. It was exactly what a young king would do.
As the Bishop retired I nudged my horse next to him. “Remember Will, you are not to get in danger. If you were to fall then the whole plan would disintegrate. You must play a fearful boy king. Do that and we might win.”
“Do not worry, father. I am just excited at the prospect of leading a charge! I will be a knight the next time this opportunity comes my way. Let me enjoy this.”
Alfred nodded, “Do not worry, lord, with you and I at his side he is safe, Besides the Welsh will not try to kill him. They would take him prisoner.”
Alfred was right but I was a father and that was what we did, worry! I did not want to lose my son so young.
William played his part well. He rode from the line and turned, “Today your King rides to battle for the first time. Follow me and we will have a swift victory.” All knew that my son had volunteered for this part and the cheer which resounded was heartfelt. It further helped the deception. He returned to the line and Walter handed him his spear. He spurred his borrowed war horse. It had a mail hood as most of our horses did. We were fighting Welsh archers! William was a good rider and the horse was an old, experienced one. We began the steady climb up the slope.
The Welsh began jeering and catcalling as we moved in our three blocks of knights. It was Alfred and I who set the pace. We walked. Then we began to trot. Our spears were held vertically. The Welsh horsemen stood firm. They would want our ranks thinned before they committed to the attack. I was disturbed that I knew their archers would be ordered not to hit the King. That meant that Alfred and I would be less likely to be struck. Edward, Peter, Fótr and the other knights would be in greater danger and that concerned me.
When we were one hundred and fifty paces from the Welsh knights I shouted, “Gallop!” We would not spur our horses we would just increase our speed. The spurs would be saved for the last forty paces. Soon the arrow storm would come. As the archers were behind their knights then the arrows would come vertically. We lifted our shields as one. The higher we held them then the more protection we would have. All of my knights and even my men at arms had metal strips across our shoulders. Even an arrow like a knight killer would not penetrate the plate. The danger was to our horses.
The arrows began not long after we began our gallop. I saw a ripple along the Welsh line which told me that their knights were going to counter charge. The shower of arrows descended. They rattled off shields like hailstones. I heard the whinny of horses struck in the rump or shoulder by an arrow. The arrows would not be barbed and knights and men at arms would pluck the arrows from the wounds. I did not look around to see the damage. I had to judge the time for the retreat. I lowered my spear when I was just twenty paces from the leading Welsh knight. I recognised him from Powys. He was a large red bearded knight. His device was a white gryphon on a black background. He had a mask over his eyes but his prominent beard told me who he was. He had a lance. I lowered my shield. The Welsh archers would not risk their own knights. The arrows slowed then stopped. William pulled back on his reins to allow Alfred, Edward, Peter and I to edge forward. We would take the impact of the enemy spears and lances. I pulled back my arm. I had learned, long ago, that it was easier to hit a knight in the leg. The red bearded knight obliged me by coming at my spear side. His lance was longer and he would strike me first. I managed to place my shield horizontally over the cantle of my saddle as he punched at my middle. It was a safer strike than going for the head. He drew his shield to protect his own middle. The lance struck my shield and cantle. The wooden cantle took some of the force from the blow. Even so when the lance shattered the blow hurt. I pulled back and punched. The visor on his helmet impaired his vision. He did not see my spear and it tore into his thigh and stuck in the wood of the saddle. His horse veered to the left and tore the spear from my hand.
I drew my sword. I had no squire with a spare spear. A lance came at my left side. William was still behind me and the knight who thrust his weapon at me saw the chance for glory. He punched and I did the only thing I could. I punched back. There was a crack like thunder as his lance shattered on my shield and I felt my arm shiver. The knight had a helmet with a nasal and he looked in shock for he was certain I would have fallen. Had he used a spear then he might have done more damage but my punch had deflected the broken lance along the side of me. I stood and brought my sword above his shield. As I did so I saw Alfred and Sir Edward carving their way through the Welsh. This was what they both did best. My sword hacked under the metal plate protecting his shoulder. I did not penetrate his mail but the blow was hard enough to unbalance and to hurt him. I was helped by the fact that he was reaching for his sword. He began to tumble from the saddle. His weight began to drag his horse down too.
I turned to look at the Welsh knights. A second battle was heading for us. Now was the time. “Henry sound the horn. Robert, signal retreat!”
All of our men were expecting the command and almost as one they turned. The exceptions were myself, Sir Alfred, Sir Edward, Sir William, Sir Fótr, Sir Geoffrey and Sir Peter. My men at arms would form a protective screen around William. The Welsh would expect that. The seven of us woul
d hold up the Welsh and give our men a head start. Inevitably the two wings would fall back more slowly and that was part of my plan. When we were in position we would turn on our pursuers and bare our teeth! The seven of us formed a wedge. The second Welsh battle had lances. We chopped and hacked at them before they reached us. They punched and stabbed with splintered stumps. Our mail held. A broken lance is like a useless piece of wood. It is not even fit to use as a club. One knight punched at my shield and although my numb arm was of little use the blow did no harm. I swung my sword hard. I aimed to strike him diagonally, above his shield. I must have hurt something for he wheeled away and blocked the next three knights trying to get at me.
Sir Edward shouted, “Enough heroics, lord! The King is safe!”
What we had done would be expected of loyal bodyguards. I wheeled Bella’s head around and spurred my horse. I slipped my shield around my back. Alfred was just ahead of me and the other three before him. I saw the joy of battle on Alfred’s face. He was using a helmet with a nasal. “Had we stayed, we could have had ransom!”
“There will be coin enough, son. Let us win first.” I felt arrows as they struck our shields. I hoped that none would strike Bella. Ahead of me I could see that William had reached our lines and reined in behind Ridley and the other men at arms. Behind him was the King. He was protected by James of Corfe and Sir Robert. What I could not see, although I knew that they were there, were the one hundred and twenty archers. One hundred were from my valley. They would be the equal of any on the field but as David of Wales commanded them then the other twenty would perform better than they ever had before! On the two flanks were dismounted men at arms and the fyrd. They had embedded spears. I risked glancing behind me. Prince Maelgwn ap Rhys might have preferred otherwise but his whole army, from knights to peasants were pouring down the hill to fall upon us. They thought that we had broken. I slowed Bella down as we approached our men. My glance behind had shown me that the nearest Welsh horses were more than fifty paces from me. I wheeled her around to place myself before William. I backed her into a space between Ridley and Henry Youngblood.
Will Red Leg was at the rear of our line and he shouted, “Now David of Wales!”
The Welsh were not expecting arrows. Their shields were held before them. As we knew from our scouts the only mailed men were the knights and David of Wales sent his arrows into the men who were not mailed, the bulk of their army, and not the knights. We would have to endure the knights. I turned the first lance which came at me but I could do nothing about the second which glanced off my helmet and made my ears ring. I saw stars but I did not need to see to know where the Welsh were. I swashed my sword in an arc at head height. There was a resounding ring as it hit one Welsh helmet. The squires of our knights had throwing spears and they hurled them at the Welsh knights. They would not penetrate mail but they stuck in shields and in saddles. They punctured the Welsh horses’ skin. They were a painful distraction which we did not have to endure.
My head cleared. The attack had slowed to a walk. Some horses had been wounded and others had baulked. This would be a confused mêlée. That suited my men. Edward did not fight as most knights did. He had been told, by Aunt Ruth that he reminded her of the mighty Sir Wulfric of Thornaby. He was relentless in his attack. An enemy did not know whence the blows would come. He would rain so many blows in a short space of time that an enemy could not cope with the storm. Peter was Ridley’s son and he was as big as his father. A blow from either man would result in a broken arm. Fótr and Alfred both had quick hands and quick reflexes. Fótr was Swedish and he had something of a Viking berserker about him. He fought furiously. The result was that our wall of five knights held and blunted the Welsh attack. The Sheriff and de Clare began to flow around the sides of the Welsh knights and all the time our archers thinned the ranks of the spears and their archers. Plunging arrows found heads without helmets and shoulders without mail. Had they been able to get to grips with their enemy then the Welsh might have held but there was a wall of horses before them. As the horses were forced back by the force of our attack so the fyrd began to slip away. If they had been fighting to defend their homes then it would have been different but they were fighting for land and the ones who would benefit were their lords.
I spurred Bella who began to move forward. She was bigger than the knight who faced me and that meant that I had the advantage of height. I used it and began to swing my sword at his head. He blocked with his sword and sparks flew as the blades rang together. I switched my blow and he had to fend it off more awkwardly than he would have liked. My sword smashed into his thigh. I swung my shield sideways and the edge tore across the knight’s ventail. The leather binding broke and the ventail dropped. I lunged with my sword. The point entered the knight’s open mouth and tore out of his cheek. To say he was distracted was an understatement. I did not pull my sword back I swept it sideways and it smashed into his teeth and tore open his other cheek. He could not speak but he flipped his sword in the air and held the hilt to me. He was surrendering. I took his sword and pulled his reins. There was a gap next to me and I handed the reins to Walter. I urged Bella on to occupy the space vacated by the knight.
There was now more room to fight. Knights had fallen and horses died. The archers had thinned out the ranks behind and the Welsh were being forced back. Around me I heard the Welsh knights as increasing numbers surrendered. What had seemed like an easy victory had become a disaster. When the horn sound for the retreat the Welsh were ready to run and run they did. They turned their horses and rode back to the castle.
“After them! Do not let them reoccupy their castle. Sound the charge!”
Our horn sounded and our men were released. We rushed up the hill. Bella was tired but the Welsh were exhausted. I kept a steady pace and she ate up the ground. Alfred and Fótr rode at my side and the three of us drew inexorably closer to a knot of Welsh knights. Their exhausted horses began to tire and they turned in panic. My surcoat was known and two knights surrendered immediately. William and the other squires were close behind for their horses had had nothing to do yet. Two knights turned to face Fótr, Alfred and myself. Even as I blocked the blow from a sword Alfred’s blade had hacked into the side of the Welshman. His mail must have been weakened already for Alfred’s blade ripped through the mail and the gambeson. He fell from his horse. He would live but only if a priest found him.
We were close enough to see the open gates of the castle and Prince Maelgwn ap Rhys must not have relished a siege for he and his knights continued north. When we reached the castle, I reined in and rode through the gates. I shouted, “Yield the castle to King Henry or suffer the consequences!”
The standard of Deheubarth was lowered. We had won.
Chapter 13
The Battle of Emlyn
Gilbert de Clare followed me into the castle. “Thank you, Earl. It was a clever plan.”
“And if I might suggest that, now that we have retaken it, you make the castle a little stronger. You need stone.”
“Stone costs money, Earl.”
“Men’s lives cost more.” I saw the King approaching. “You pay no taxes to the King and yet he came here without any fuss to rescue you.”
He nodded. I saw him realising that I had brought my own men and had it not been for my archers then the result might have been different.
“You are right. I will do so.”
We were still surveying the land around the castle when the King dismounted. He looked excited. “Are all battles so closely fought?”
I smiled, “Your Majesty once the Welsh fell into our trap we were never in any danger of defeat.”
“But they came within a few paces of our camp.”
“The camp and your person were guarded by resolute men. James of Corfe is a good warrior. Sir Robert knows his business you need to trust the men around you and have faith.”
Lord Gilbert smiled, “The Earl is being disingenuous. He and his oathsworn bought the time for the feigned r
etreat and they ensured that the enemy would follow.”
The King nodded, “And now what?”
“Lord Gilbert and I were discussing how we could make this into a stronger castle.”
King Henry was young but he liked his castles. He had lived his whole life in castles and he seemed to have an affinity with them. He looked around the land. “You must build in stone. See how the mound of the castle and the small plateau dips. There is a stream yonder. I would build a castle in stone and divert the water to form a lake around three sides of it. You build one bridge over your moat. That way there is no higher land for war machines and the boggy ground you create will make it hard for you to be assaulted.”
I saw the incredulous look on Gilbert’s face. I smiled, “The King may be young but he is clever. I think it would work. It would be the strongest castle in this part of Glamorgan.”
When Caerphilly was finally finished men praised the First Lord of Glamorgan. We knew that it was King Henry’s idea.
By night fall the men too badly injured to be healed were despatched and the wounded brought into the castle. It was still close enough to winter for there to be wolves. We had many prisoners for ransom and great quantities of booty. Gilbert de Clare had more than enough money for stone!
This was not my land and so my men and I camped by the castle. The King stayed in the hall. He asked for William to accompany him. I saw no reason to deny him. De Clare sent out scouts to follow the fleeing Welsh. Jocelyn de Braose had distinguished himself in the battle. He had fought close to Alfred. Padraig the Wanderer commented on his courage. “Feisty little cockerel that one is.”