by Griff Hosker
“Aye lord, when I was a boy in Bellingham, we had the same; a cold east wind meant snow. It will not lie but it will make the ground even slicker and more slippery. That will aid us.”
“It will indeed. We had better bring the pig fat and seal oil from the keep and put it in the cauldrons close to the forge. We can have the forge heat it slowly. As soon as we spy the ram trundling towards us, we will need to begin to heat them. I think that they have a day more and they will be ready.”
The camps did not encircle us. There was one close to David of Amble’s farm. A second was on the Rothbury road. The largest one used our church. The other buildings had been destroyed. A fourth was on the Otterburn road and a small one lay to the west of my castle. It was as I completed my daily walk around my fighting platform that I realised I needed a sally port on each side of the walls. If we had had one it would have been child’s play to slip out and rid ourselves of the small camp.
It was the next day that we heard, not long after dawn, the sound of wood rolling over wood. They had built the ram in the woods and to get it to the road they needed wooden rollers. I ordered the fat and oil mixture to be heated. That was Tam’s task. It was a simple process. The cauldrons were next to the forge and they just needed moving directly over the heat. The smith and Dick, son of Harry, would tend it. John would watch the ram and he would be the one I would send to have the cauldrons fetched to the tackle. I now kept just two archers at the top of my keep. Two more watched the walls of the upper bailey. The rest of my men were on the walls of the lower bailey. That was where they would attack. A ram meant they were going to take the gate. The pavise were moved closer and I saw the half-finished stone thrower when the screens were removed. Had they planned properly they would have brought it ready to be assembled. Sir Richard and I had thwarted their plans. The pavise were set up close to the flooded ditch, the moat. Even though they were careful my archers managed to hit two of the men who had brought up the protective pavise. We saw crudely made ladders as they were carried and dropped behind the wooden pavise. They had learned their lesson and the ladder carriers were protected by shields. The ram lumbered slowly towards us. It was moving at the pace of an old man. Even when it reached the cobbles of the road it struggled for the stones were slippery still.
Alan of Bellingham knew sieges from the Holy Land. “It will take most of the day for it to reach us, lord.”
“They mean to attack at dusk or night.”
“Aye.”
“How is it made, lord?” Matthew was naturally curious.
“It looks like they have used a single large log and cut six crude wheels. See how it moves unevenly. That will weaken it. They have not used hide for the roof. They have used wood. It will make the ram heavier. I would guess that it takes thirty men to move it. They have no shelter. It will take another thirty to protect them with shields.”
“That helps us eh, lord?”
“Aye for it will divide their attacking force by at least a half.” I turned, “Roger Two Swords, have the men fed. I will watch with the men of the village. This will be a long night for us.” After the first night, I had not bothered with my helmet and shield. I would not need them this night either. I leaned on the stone of the gatehouse. I had not seen either Sir Malcolm nor the Earl of Fife in the enemy camp. That did not mean they were not here just that they were remaining in shelter. I had not seen Sir Eustace but I had seen another eight of his men. Now he could not deny his involvement. He had cast the die and would have to live with the consequences. I lifted my head and looked south. Where was my father? He was Earl Marshal of the North. Why had he not come to my aid? He had left me and promised that he would return. What had stopped him? There would be a good reason. I tried to work out how long it was since he had left. So much had happened that I found it hard to put the events in order. Sir Richard had taken over the manor and it was only then that my father had gone. He had said he was going to make visits before reaching Stockton, I was doing my father a disservice. He had probably only been home for a week or so. He would need to organize if he was going to come north. He would have to summon his other knights. Perhaps I should have sent a rider when I heard Sir Richard’s bell. Hindsight was always perfect. Each day was a lesson to me in how to be the lord of the manor.
Matthew was with me, “Go and see how long before the fat is hot enough.”
“Aye lord.”
Rafe and his sons came to join me. “I am sorry about your home, Rafe.”
He shrugged, “We can rebuild. Poor Cedric cannot rebuild his life. Besides, lord, we have learned from you. We can live with my son Henry until we have built a new hall and we will build it like yours. Strong stone does not burn! If we add barns and byres around the side then we will be almost like a castle. We will be able to defend it.”
His youngest son, John, pointed, “They are getting closer, lord.”
Although they had made progress, they were still four hundred paces from the moat. Once they reached the moat, they would have to endure caltrops, stones and arrows! It was as I turned to face south that the first snowflake fell against my left cheek. While we had been talking the clouds had rolled in. The snow was beginning.
Matthew returned, “The fat is beginning to bubble. Tam says he will take it from the heat before it flames.”
I nodded and, glancing to the south, saw that they were now just two hundred paces from the walls. The snow and clouds combined with the time of year meant that it would soon be dusk. “Fetch our men. Rafe, when my men arrive then have the villagers fed and get some rest. I will call them when we need them.” What I was counting on was the fact that the enemy would be tired. They had half of their men pushing and pulling the ram. Others were still toiling with the stone thrower. I had not seen it yet but I knew that there had to be a bridge they were going to use. Until that arrived, they could not begin their attack.
My men began to filter down and take their places on my fighting platform. We had more men at arms than archers. I had the archers spread out. With two in the tower and two watching the upper bailey we were stretched thinly. We could have used Walther of Coxold.
“Garth, we use your archers judiciously. When they put their bridge across, they will have to expose themselves. Make the bridge an expensive one.”
“Aye lord. I will move the archers to the gatehouse. I can judge their flight better. We could use the archers in the tower and upper bailey lord.”
I nodded, “Matthew, send three of the archers from the keep here. You and the other archer will be our sentries and guards for the keep.”
He looked disappointed but he nodded, “Aye lord.”
The attackers stopped before they reached the moat. They had suffered from our archers before and knew that the moat was in range. What they did not know was how few archers we actually had. It was why I was allowing the men of the village to eat and rest as long as possible. They would be used when the enemy crossed the moat. It would increase our archers. I knew that they would cross. The question was, how many could we kill before they managed it? Men with shields and the men with the pavise formed a line before the moat. They were bringing the bridge up behind the shields. The Scots and the English had archers and crossbows. The crossbows could not release from behind their pavise. As soon as the pavise were moved the crossbowmen began to level their crossbows. In the time it took to level and aim ten arrows had flown from the walls and hit all eight of the men with crossbows. Not all were killed but a crossbow needed strength to load it. A wounded man could not do it. Their archers could release from behind the pavise but they were not as good as my men. Some fell short and the ones we saw were caught on the shields of my sergeants.
We had won the first round. Men with shields formed up and I saw the bridge being manhandled into position. The caltrops took their toll. When men holding the shields stepped on them and moved my archers took advantage. My archers were patient. They watched for a mistake and then they struck. The ones who had joined
us from the tower raced up the ladder and quickly nocked their bows. They waited. The shields could only protect the enemy while the bridge was on the bank. As soon as it edged over the moat there was no protection for the men pushing it. The two men pushing at the side fell into the flooded ditch with arrows in their heads. The rest kept pushing and the bridge edged across but it cost them eight men to reach halfway. Once there the bridge floated and they were able to push it across to the other side.
“John, Tam, it is time for fire!”
“Aye lord.”
“Men of Elsdon, stand to!” Men left their food and raced towards the ladders.
I donned my helmet. The arrows sent at us had been poorly flighted up to now but once they crossed the moat, they would be closer. It would be foolish to risk being struck by one. I left the visor up. The arrows were being sent into the air and were falling vertically. By the time the bridge reached our side of the moat twelve of those attacking us had been struck with arrows. Some were just wounded but none would be able to help in the attack. The enemy took their places at the ram. As I had expected they needed almost as many men with shields as they did to push it. I heard Tam and the strong men from the village as they hauled on the rope to raise the steaming cauldrons of heated fat and oil. I glanced over and saw that it was still bubbling. In a perfect world, we would have a fire on the fighting platform to continue heating it. We did not. The fighting platform was made of wood.
The walls had filled with the archers from my village. It doubled the number of bows and they began to release at the men pushing the ram. Behind the ram were men carrying ladders. They had slightly miscalculated. The men carrying the shields were perilously close to the edge of the bridge and when one or two fell into the water our archers suddenly had clear targets. The men pushing were brave. I saw men with arrows in their legs and they were still pushing.
Tam climbed the ladder. He had a large bar as did Rafe’s son Rafe. They stood by one of the cauldrons and moved it towards the fulcrum and the gutters. John held two torches. I peered over the side. The ram was close to the gate. There were two obstacles before they could break into the lower bailey. We had the drawbridge and then the gate. They would have to break through two thick pieces of wood. All of our archers now had targets. The men with shields had been thinned out. The ones with ladders scurried across the bridge and some of those fell. Then I heard the crunch as the ram hit the gate.
“Now Tam!”
The two levers lifted one end of the cauldron and the steaming liquid flowed down the metal gullies, away from our walls and on to the ram. The fat and oil landed half way along the war machine. It splashed and spattered. Boiling fat dripped through the gaps in the roof. John hurled one torch as Rafe and Tam ran to the other cauldron. There was a whoosh of flame as the torch ignited the fat mixture. Men screamed as boiling droplets of fat came through the wooden roof to burn them. Then the roof caught fire. Flames rose so high that I thought we might be singed. Then the second cauldron began to pour its deadly mixture to the burning ram and bridge and, even before John had hurled his torch, the oil and fat had caught fire. Not only the ram burned, so did the bridge and the ladders the men had been carrying. It was too much and the survivors fled back to their side of the moat. They did not go unmolested. My archers slew many of them as did my slingers. Men were still trapped inside the ram and their screams told us of a horrible death. The attack was over. They might attack again and they might build a new ram. They might even concentrate on their stone thrower but we had bought ourselves some days and that counted as a victory!
“Throw water on the gate!” Men began to wet the smouldering gate and drawbridge.
I watched as the fire consumed the ram. We saw men set alight by the fire throwing themselves into the flooded ditch. The bridge was soon destroyed by the intense fire and then, as the structure of the wood was destroyed, the whole blackened mass sank below the water into the flooded ditch. The water hissed as it consumed the war machine. I looked along my fighting platform. Men cheered as though it was over. I saw none dead and knew that we had been lucky. We had hurt them but the enemy still surrounded the castle and they outnumbered us. This was not the moment for a dour face. I took off my helmet and, raising my sword, shouted, “Elsdon and King Henry!”
It was the right shout for all cheered. As men celebrated, Alan of Bellingham joined me, “Well done, lord, you judged the moment well.”
“You are right, Alan, but let us wait until dawn to see what follows eh?”
My men forced me to sleep and I managed a couple of hours. When I woke, the snow, which had fallen throughout the attack, had stopped. As I had thought the snow had not lain. It was already melting and puddling. It would muddy the ground again and make an attack by the enemy less likely. Men had managed sleep and food had been cooked. We still had plenty of food. I had yet to begin rationing. This victory deserved a well-fed populace. I walked my walls. The enemies were in their camps and well out of range of our arrows. They were cooking food. There were fewer men around each camp. When I reached my gate, I heard the sound of axes in the woods beyond Henry’s farm. They were still building the stone thrower.
Roger Two Swords approached me, “Lord, my men and I have counted the enemies who surround us. They barely outnumber us. We have hurt them.”
“What do you suggest?”
“We end this, lord. We lower the bridge and use our horses to drive them hence. Garth and his archers, not to mention the men of the village, can use their arrows to thin them out. We men at arms have done nothing. The men would like to do this.”
I smiled, “As would I but we have almost won. Let us not throw all away just to make ourselves gain a little glory. We have lost not a man. Let us keep it that way but you are right in one respect. We should exercise the horses. Have the men fetch the horses to the lower bailey. We will ride them. Perhaps we can fool our enemies into thinking we do plan an attack.”
It took time for the horses to be saddled. It was late morning by the time Roger led the horses from my stables in the upper bailey. The sound of neighing horses and the drumming of hooves on the bridge from my upper bailey had an instant effect upon those besieging us. They stopped work and I heard horns. I smiled for the ridiculous plan appeared to have worked. I stared out to the south. It was strange. They formed up and made a shield wall yet they faced south and not north. Whom did they face? It was my men who were exercising their horses and it was their hooves they heard. Why were they facing south? My archers and my villagers manned the walls. From the keep, I heard the bell toll! Had more enemies been sighted? It had that effect on the Scots and English too. Matthew was still in the keep and he ran through the gate and the lower bailey. Men and horses scattered. He stopped below the gate, “Lord, there are men approaching down the Rothbury road and from the south, from the direction of Bellingham!”
Had he said just the Rothbury road then I would have feared enemy reinforcements. However, the road from Bellingham was not in the enemy’s hands. There were men coming to relieve us, “Roger Two Swords, mount!” I turned to Alan of Bellingham and Garth Red Arrow, “Defend the castle. We may be able to break the siege.”
I climbed on to Eagle’s back. Matthew handed me a spear and then mounted his own horse. He did so somewhat awkwardly. His leg was still to heal completely.
Alan of Bellingham shouted, “Brother Paul, David of Amble, Tam, let us lower the bridge and open the gate.”
The bridge landed with a splash. The snow had puddled on the other side of the already flooded ditch. Tam lifted the bar on his own and, as he carried it away Alan and David pulled open the gates. One man had been burned to death close by the gate. I could still smell his burning flesh. I looked ahead and saw that our enemies were forming up to fight the two columns which were coming to our relief. I spurred Eagle and he trotted across the bridge and then splashed through the melting snow. The bodies had fallen on the caltrops and we picked our way through them. It would not do to ride too
quickly until we were on the road. There were just over fifteen of us and many more enemies were before us but we were mounted and, as I led my men to the church, I knew that the ones we attacked would have to endure blades from before and behind.
“Form line!” Matthew and Roger flanked me as we cantered through the devastated houses of the village.
I heard Scottish voices cry out as they heard our hooves. The warriors heading from Bellingham were afoot! They knew the horses were behind them. Spears and shields turned to face us. We passed the heads of Cedric and his son. It hardened our hearts. The shields and spears of our foes were not locked. The men who wielded them wore no mail. They had fought at our walls and had lost. Any confidence they had had was burned away with the ram. I saw no knights leading them yet they faced us. They had courage. I heard a couple of older men keening a lament. They were singing a death song. As the men of Bellingham charged into the ones further away from us, we hit the spears and shields of the ones facing us. Spears shattered on our shields and mail. We struck from a height. My punch was so hard that the man I hit had little chance to defend himself with his shield. My spear drove into his right shoulder and as it crunched against a bone, I twisted the head and pulled it out. He fell to the side. I jabbed at the neck of the spearman who was fighting Matthew. The head of my spear struck something vital and blood spurted. Then they began to flee. One or two men, resigned to death, stood their ground and tried to fight against us but it was in vain. They caused little hurt and they died anyway. Their deaths bought a little time for the ones who had fled up the road to Otterburn. Horsemen with spears make short work of unarmoured men on foot.
“Wheel!” The men of Bellingham had come to our aid and we were duty bound to go to their aid. Even as we turned the resistance of those fighting the men of Bellingham ended. We carved a bloody line through those who also joined the flight north. When I saw Cedric’s son, Cedric, I reined in.