by Griff Hosker
“The King, Sir William, has given me a hard task. This is a long border and the Welsh could strike at us anywhere.”
I nodded, “And until Prince Henry rejoins us it would not be prudent to be too aggressive for he is the Prince of Wales and I know that he will want to be part of this campaign, despite his wounds.”
“Then we have a little time and I would use it to good effect. If we are to campaign then we need a good base from which to operate. We have made Shrewsbury stronger and as Worcester strikes me as also being key to that defence, I will fortify this castle and garrison it well.” I nodded for that made sense. “I would have you ride to Kenilworth to speak with the Prince. You know him as well as any and you are a warrior who understands wounds. I would know if he is ready to campaign. I am anxious to press Glendower into the north. If the Lord Lieutenant of Ireland is able to aid us then it cannot be this campaign season and until we have pressure from two sides then we will be limited to punitive raids.”
“And yet that can hurt the Welsh, Sir Thomas, for if they are fighting us then they cannot produce food.”
Sir Thomas laughed, “You are a true warrior, Sir William. I will await your return.”
It took a day or so to prepare for the ride as we did not know if we would be returning to Shrewsbury and so we took all of our war gear with us. My men were pleased to be on the road again as idleness, even though enforced, did not sit well with them. We had won the battle but rebellion was still in the air and we rode with archers as scouts and prepared for war. I let Harry ride with Abelard. My son was the same age as Prince Henry and like the Prince had grown up with war. He had seen men die and he would know what to say to the squire who had served a knight so briefly.
We had over sixty miles to travel but our horses were in good condition as they had not been used in the battle. With just one overnight stop we reached the castle well before dark for these were the long days of summer. While my men were accommodated, I was admitted to the Prince in his chambers. His face was heavily bandaged and I saw that his features, beneath the bandages, appeared to be badly swollen. Despite the pain he was obviously in he seemed in good spirits and greeted me warmly.
“If I do not say much, old friend and teacher, it is because to speak overmuch causes me pain and not from any rudeness. Tell me all!”
As his servants brought us wine, I told him everything which had happened both in the battle and in the aftermath. I saw from his animated eyes that he had been starved of such news. I came to the meeting I had had with his father and then he truly became excited and began banging the arms of the padded chair upon which he sat. I smiled for this was Henry of Monmouth the way I had always remembered him. He had lived with my wife and me briefly and he had shown us then that he was nothing like his father or his father’s predecessor, King Richard. He was as close to a common man as one could be.
“Then I am ready to ride!”
I shook my head, “Prince Henry, your father charged me with your care and, until your doctor, John Bradmore, tells me that you are ready and fit to travel then we will stay here.”
He nodded and waved to his servant, “Peter, fetch the doctor!”
John Bradmore looked more like a blacksmith than a doctor but I had heard that it was a device he had invented which had saved the life of Prince Henry.
“Doctor, tell Sir William that I am fit!”
I shook my head, “Doctor, I would know the Prince’s true condition as I have been charged by his father with his care.”
“And that is my primary concern, too, Sir William. The arrowhead has been removed and, so far as we can tell, there is no putrefaction. The wound needs to be bathed each day with a mixture of white bread, barley, flour, honey and turpentine oil. This needs to continue for a further three days. Then the wound on his face will need an application of my special ointment to reduce the scarring.”
“And you must administer these treatments?”
He looked at Prince Henry and smiled, “His servant, Peter, has watched me each day and with a little training and instructions then he could administer them but I would advise him to stay here and to rest.”
Prince Henry said, triumphantly, “See!”
It was my turn to smile, “And that will fit in with our plans perfectly. I will send a rider back to Worcester where Sir Thomas is strengthening the defences and we will arrange to meet him in Shrewsbury in five days’ time. That will allow the treatment to be finished and we can still make the journey and meet with your army.”
The answer pleased both the doctor and the patient. I was learning to be a diplomat.
King Henry sent a constant stream of riders to both Kenilworth and thence to Shrewsbury and Worcester so that we had an accurate report of his progress against the northern rebels. Henry Percy had fled with his army to Newcastle, where the good burghers refused him entry and he was ensconced in Warkworth Castle which was a powerful castle. The King was racing north to York and the messages filled both the Prince and me with hope.
“If the north is secure then we only have the Welsh as a thorn in our side.”
“And that thorn is the size of a battering ram, my lord! Glendower has Aberystwyth, Beaumaris and Harlech under siege and the land is in rebellion. I know not how many men we will take with us but it cannot be the flower of England as many are already with your father and we suffered grievous hurts in the battle.”
I saw him taking that in. I had been with him for two days and already the swelling had gone down somewhat so that talking was easier. Of course, he was still heavily bandaged but England owed a debt to John Bradmore which it could never fully repay. The Prince showed that the battle had had an effect on him and he was more thoughtful. “When I go to France to reclaim the lands which are ours by right then I may not be able to take a large army. Perhaps I should learn to fight with a smaller army but fight in a cleverer manner.” He did not smile with his mouth, for it caused him pain, but I saw him smile with his eyes. “The Free Companies are the model I should use. I can see that my grandsire showed great foresight when he appointed you to train King Richard and my father. How many archers do you bring with you?”
“Not as many as you might expect, Prince. I lost archers and others were wounded. I had almost thirty but now I just bring nine to war. When the others are recovered, they will swell my numbers.”
“Then I need to hire more archers from my purse. I am Prince of Wales and the Welsh are good archers. I will hire those who are loyal to me and I will offer an inducement for those archers which fought against us, the men of Cheshire. We cannot be petty if we are to win back Wales and France.”
He was showing maturity beyond his years and before we left Kenilworth, he had already hired ten archers. Until he had a captain for them, they joined my archers and served under Owen the Welshman. The Prince of Wales had with him ten young knights who chose to follow his banner. That was a great compliment for he was just sixteen years old but as he had demonstrated at Shrewsbury, he was a fearless and courageous leader who had fought most of the battle with an arrow lodged in his skull. The ten knights would act as men at arms when we fought. Wales, and especially North Wales, was not the country for mounted horsemen. Once you left the Clwyd valley you were amongst the foothills and rocks of Snowdonia.
I do not think that we left too soon but what we could not know was that there were still groups of rebels who had fled the battlefield but not yet returned home. The Earl of Northumberland was still at large while Sir Edward Mortimer and Glendower were free and threatening the borders. Despite King Henry’s leniency, they had not availed themselves of the opportunity to make peace with the King. Instead, they became wolves who waited for the chance to take from the King and his son.
I had sent a rider to tell the Earl of Arundel that we would meet him at Shrewsbury and another to warn the constable that the Prince would require accommodation. I did not swear the two riders to secrecy and that may have been a mistake for men knew that we were ridi
ng the road to Shrewsbury and not everyone was loyal. We stayed at the small manor of Wolveren Hampton. We stayed for the simple reason that one of the young knights who followed Prince Henry, Sir Giles Jenyns came from the small market town and his father was a prosperous woollen merchant. We were feted and well treated but that, ironically, ill-prepared us for the next day for some of the young knights had enjoyed the hospitality of the Jenyns family just a little too much!
Apart from sheep, Staffordshire had many forests and, inevitably, we passed through some of them. The young knights who accompanied the Prince were just that, young knights, and to them it was a ride in the country. Luckily my men at arms and my archers were alert. Even Abelard and Harry were more vigilant than Prince Henry’s knights and it was their vigilance, allied to my horse, Hart, which gave us warning of the attack.
We were close to some trees when she pricked her ears and stamped the ground. At the same time, Walter of Sheffield suddenly nocked an arrow and the other archers followed suit. I drew my sword as did my men at arms and my two squires. We just reacted to Hart and Walter. I always trusted the instincts of my men and my horses. The Prince and his knights were too engaged in some discussion or other. I could have shouted but I was too concerned with spotting the threat and when I saw the movement in the trees, I knew whence it came. It was then I shouted, “Guard the Prince!” The command was for his knights. My men knew what to do without being ordered. They would slay whoever came to do us harm. Even as my last word echoed back from the trees an arrow flew from Walter’s bow. The other archers let fly. Then the forty or so men who had been in the woods burst forth. I recognised, on some, the livery they wore, and knew them for what they were. They were Northumbrians.
When Hotspur had been killed the archers he had led from Cheshire went home. Without a paymaster, they had no income. The men at arms, however, that he brought from Northumberland and the young men who thought to come south and make mischief, had not returned home. It was they who launched the attack. They burst from the trees which were just thirty paces from the road. Some wore mail and all had a helmet and a weapon of some description. I saw pole weapons as well as axes and swords. Even before they had reached us six had been struck by arrows and I led my men at arms and squires at them using our horses, as well as our swords as a weapon. Hart was not a warhorse but she was clever and as I neared the first wild man, who had a long poleaxe which he swung at me, I pulled back on the reins and stood in the stirrups so that Hart reared and flailed her hooves. It made the warrior from the wild north swing his poleaxe in panic missing both me and my horse and I brought down my sword to hack off the end. He turned and ran. I urged Hart, not to follow him but to head for the next ambusher. We had to keep them as far away from the Prince as we could. He had still to recover from his wound.
Abelard and Harry were close to me and it was Harry who drew first blood. As a swordsman armed with a shield as well as a sword raced at my side, Harry leaned from his saddle and brought it across the back of the warrior. His back was protected by a mail hauberk but that did not stop my son’s sword which tore through the mail links of the hauberk and not only tore flesh but broke bones. I swung my sword in a scything sweep and hit a spearman in the throat. My sword sliced first through his spear and came upwards to find his unprotected neck. As we reached the edge of the wood, I saw that the attackers were fleeing. More for the Prince’s knights than my men I shouted, “Hold! Find me a prisoner!”
Seeing there was no apparent danger, now that the attackers had fled, I rode back to the Prince and was pleased to see a wall of chastened knights around him. My helmet was an open-faced sallet and my eyes bored into them as I approached. None could bear my gaze for they knew they had been remiss. Prince Henry knew it too, “Blame me, Sir William, for I have served with you and know that vigilance is all. I forgot and for that, I apologise.”
No other member of the royal family would ever have apologised and I nodded as I sheathed my bloody sword. “Had my horse and archers not been alert then they might have closed with you and you, Prince Henry, are not yet well enough to defend yourself.”
“Who were they?”
“From their livery, weapons and the words I heard them use, they are from Northumberland. The folk there are loyal to their chiefs and they are more akin to the Scots than to the English. I think they saw the horses and wanted those. They made a mistake and many men have paid the price.”
I turned as Stephen of Morpeth and Dick Dickson half carried a wounded man towards me, “My lord, we have a prisoner!” I dismounted. “He is from the Wear, my lord, and they are all treacherous bastards there. Watch him!” Stephen of Morpeth was a Northumbrian but loyal to me.
“What is your name?”
In answer, the prisoner spat at me and snapped, “Go to, go to, you whoreson!”
I saw Stephen raise his arm but I said, “Hold! The man is dying although he knows it not yet and if we know not his name then we will throw him with the other beggars in a ditch. He does not wish to be buried in a churchyard.”
The man had a stomach wound and while he was a big man he would succumb eventually. He seemed to realise the dilemma he was in and his attitude changed. “You would bury me in a churchyard, lord?”
“If you told me what I need to know then aye but I cannot guarantee that you would get to heaven for I am no priest.”
“We are men who served Lord Percy, Harry Hotspur. We swore vengeance on the King and all of his supporters.” He pointed at the Prince’s livery, “When we saw that yon lord was related to the King, we thought to have our revenge.”
I shook my head, “That is Prince Henry, the son of the King and you and all the others are fools. How many of you are there?”
“There were a hundred but some headed home.” He winced as pain coursed through his body and had not my two men been holding him he would have fallen. As he opened his eyes, he suddenly seemed to see me, “It is you, you were the one killed our master!” In a flash, he had reached into his buskin for a bodkin dagger. Even as it came for my throat Stephen of Morpeth’s knife had driven into his ear and his brain. The bodkin fell from dead hands.
As he wiped the knife on the dead man’s tunic he stood and said, “As I told you, lord, they are all treacherous bastards and I knew he would try something!”
We buried the bodies in shallow graves and we headed, this time with vigilance from all, towards Shrewsbury. It was not until we neared the castle that we began to relax. I rode next to the Prince for the last few miles. We were not silent for Prince Henry was a clever and thoughtful young man. “There will be other such bands roaming the land.”
“Aye, Prince Henry, and when your father quells the northern rebels there will be more. I know from my time at Middleham that the north has an independent spirit. For some reason, they like not your father. It may be the death of Richard as they seemed to like him. Your father needs a strong Sherriff of York and a strong Archbishop of York.”
“And I am not sure Archbishop Scrope is such a loyal man.” As we spied the gatehouse of Shrewsbury, he sat straighter in the saddle. “Then it is all the more urgent that I rid the border of the threat of Glendower.” He looked at me, “With your help, we shall do this.”
I nodded my agreement but my heart would not be in the venture. I had grandchildren and, selfishly, I wished to see them but a promise made to a long-dead Black Prince meant that I would continue to put the crown of England above the wishes and desires of William Strongstaff. I could not help it, loyalty and service were in my blood.
Chapter 2
It was September when Sir Thomas Fitzalan and the rest of the army arrived to head north. We were not a huge army, indeed, by the standards of Shrewsbury, we were not even as strong as one of the wings which had fought so valiantly that day. With just two hundred knights and two hundred men at arms, it could be said that we were little more than a chevauchée but the men of Shropshire who followed us were in determined mood for they had suffered Welsh rai
ds and wished to end the threat. It helped that they were all good archers. We would pick up another group of men, archers this time, from Chester but the fact that the men of Cheshire had risen against the King meant that it would be a shadow of the men who followed Hotspur. They would, however, give us more archers and they would be under my direction.
I was the oldest of all of the knights and nobles who headed towards the Clwyd and I was also the most experienced. The young Sir Thomas deferred to me for the others with my experience, like Sir Ralph Neville and Sir John Talbot were either with the King or had fallen at the bloodbath which had been Shrewsbury. They listened to my advice as we sat in the Great Hall at Chester and decided our strategy for the campaign. I knew the castle well for when King Richard had returned from Ireland this northern stronghold had played a crucial role in his downfall and, ultimately, his demise. I put him from my mind as I spoke for I was a professional soldier and I had been asked for my advice and I gave it.
“We have, at most, two months to campaign. After that, the snows will come and the passes will be blocked. Our army will starve and men will desert. You have brought, my lord, the Shropshire levies and that is good for they are sound warriors but they are also farmers and when the snows come and the wolves howl in the mountains then they will yearn for home. I say we strike down the Clwyd and make for Conwy. That castle is still in our hands but all around is under threat. We cannot reach Harlech and they must perforce try to hold out.”