by Griff Hosker
“Now that the north is safe, and I thank God for the safe return of my men, then we can concentrate upon the wedding in September. We have much to plan.”
I held up my hand for I knew that if I did not mention the Welsh war sooner, rather than later, then my wife would be even angrier and more upset with me. “I may not be at the wedding, my love, for the Prince wants me to be at his side when he attacks Aberystwyth.”
Her face darkened like a sky before a thunderstorm and I braced myself to weather it. “Are there no other knights who can aid the Prince? Is it you alone who fights for Henry Bolingbroke and his son?”
“Thomas and Harry need not serve. It is only myself who may attend the wedding.” I realised when the thunder clapped and my wife spoke that I had said the wrong thing.
“How thoughtful! You will allow the groom to attend his own wedding! Such generosity! Will Strongstaff you are…”
I never learned what I was for she burst into tears and ran from the room. I had learned, over the years, to let her calm down in her own time. I finished the jug of wine and stared into the fire. I reflected that we might be in a position, by September, to end the siege of Aberystwyth and that meant I might be able to return for the wedding. I would not promise that yet but it was something to have in case I needed it. I also began to work out which men I would take with me. Some of my men had, like Thomas, my son, begun families. If I could, then I would leave those at home. I finished the wine and went to bed. My wife was asleep and for that I was grateful. I had to leave Weedon by the end of the week but I needed two days with my grandchildren and my tenants. I did not mention the campaign to either Sir Richard or my sons. When I returned home there was silence from my wife and I knew that she was still angry that I might not be at the marriage.
I put the argument from my mind as I prepared for the campaign. I summoned my sons and Sir Richard and told them what the Prince wished. As I had expected all three of them said they would come.
“No, for you, Harry, have a wedding to plan and Thomas and Richard will be needed in case I do not return in time.”
I saw that Harry was less than happy for he saw himself as the cause of this dilemma. “I wish I had never broached the subject of a marriage.”
“Harry, you are a knight and need a lady at your side. Remember Sir Wilfred and his sacrifice. That was so that you could live, marry and father children. I need more grandchildren so that my blood continues into the future. Besides a siege is not a glorious thing. We will be sitting without the walls of Aberystwyth trying to starve them and reduce their walls while enduring hunger and cold ourselves. When the time comes to assault then it will be a hard battle and many men will die before they even set foot in the castle. No, this is for the best and when it is done then, hopefully, we shall have years of peace ahead of us.”
They were not convinced but I was not only their father but their liege lord and they obeyed. I gave them a list of tasks which they needed to undertake while I was away for I knew that communication between Wales and Northampton would be almost impossible. Once we had the sea at our backs then we would, effectively, be cut off by the vastness of the Welsh mountains.
When they had left, I summoned my captains and we planned what we would need in terms of men, horses and weapons. I would not take Hawk for this was not a campaign for a warhorse. Once alone I prepared myself by choosing the clothes and the weapons I would take. It was as I was doing so that my wife entered the bedchamber.
I heard her before I knew that she was in the bed chamber, “This is the task of a wife!”
“And I thought that you no longer wished to be my wife for you have shunned me for some days.”
“I was angry but I am over the anger now. I cannot fight a King and it would be folly to do so. I just have to accept that you may not be at the wedding.” She began to pack for me and spoke quietly as she did so. “Just keep safe, eh? You have fought for two kings and for their purposes for thirty years or more and there is no end to it. It seems to me that they will only be happy when you are dead.”
I knew that to be a lie for they needed me, father and son both, but I said nothing and smiled as she sniffed and then folded the clothes I would need.
When she had done, she kissed me hard on the lips. “And even as they lay me in my grave, I shall still wish to be your wife for you are the only man I ever want!”
I left as soon as the first fields had been sown and the spring lambs born. We were lucky to have both land and animals. They would sustain us if we had hard times ahead. Having visited the north I was keenly aware that we had a much easier life in the south and I could see why Red Ralph had raised hardy horses rather than cereal. In the north, it was barley bread and oatbread which were produced. Wheat was common in the south and explained why few knights were keen to be given a northern manor.
I had just twenty men with me and we headed for Shrewsbury. There we would meet Sir John Talbot and Sir John Oldcastle. Their retinues would join mine and we would await the arrival of the Earl of Arundel and the bulk of the men who would fight for the Prince to regain his land. As we waited the two border lords told me how much easier it had been since the isle of Anglesey had been conquered.
“The Welsh are trapped now. If it was not for their lands in the Gower then they would all have starved. Anglesey is their breadbasket and now that it is in our hands the Welsh are clinging on to their two captured castles as though their lives depended on it.” Sir John Talbot kept an ear to the ground and knew more than any other man in the marches.
“And Mortimer and Glendower? What news of them?”
“The rumour is that they are in Harlech Castle for that is deemed to be impregnable but, in truth, we know not for none has heard of them for so long that there are rumours that they are dead.”
Sir John Oldcastle topped up his wine, “If they were dead then the rebellion would have collapsed. The Welsh only fight because they see hope in Glendower. Mortimer…?” He shrugged, “The Welsh do not want him and we would hang him if we captured him. Mortimer is a dead man walking.”
When Sir Thomas Fitzalan joined us, we held a council of war. “The Prince is in Bristol with his gunners and his engineers and they will be sailing for Aberystwyth by the end of the month. That means we leave as soon as we can. I am under no illusions, gentlemen, we may well have to fight our way across Wales but we have to be there to enable the Prince to land his men.”
I knew what he meant. The Prince would have not only his master gunners but his other gunners as well as miners, carpenters, labourers, cordwainers and surgeons. He might even have fletchers for the bow was still our most powerful weapon. An army on the move did not need so many men who did not fight but a siege was different for we could be there for months.
He turned to me, “Sir William, I will be most reliant upon you for advice. No one knows war as you do and I am fully aware that you have forgotten more about war than I have yet learned. Have I missed anything out?”
I nodded, “I have not yet heard of the Welsh who will be fighting with us. The last time we fought we won two victories because of Dafydd Gam. Have you asked him and his brother to come?”
I saw realisation on his face and he shook his head, “I should have thought of that. I will send to them.”
“And it may be that these two lords have loyal Welshmen who might aid us. The language and the land are as different from England as it is possible to be. We have archers who can scout but we need Welshmen who know the land. David of Welshpool and Owen the Welshman can scout but I would prefer someone with local knowledge.”
The delay in securing the men we needed cost us another four days and when we left Shrewsbury, we were forced to move at a faster, more hurried pace than we might have liked. Sir Thomas Fitzalan was in command of the army but I placed myself and my men, along with Dafydd Gam and his brother at the fore. We would be the vanguard. My mounted archers and the Welshmen led by Dafydd gave us the best chance of avoiding an ambush.
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David of Welshpool was our guide for the first thirty miles as he came from Welshpool and it was he who advised us on the route we should take. “Avoid Machynlleth, my lord, for the folk there are fanatical. The road further south will be a little harder but it will be safer.”
There was little point in having a good scout if you did not heed his advice and he led us to his home town of Welshpool. His family were long gone but all of us were appalled at what we saw. The townsfolk were like skeletons. The war had caused major problems for them. With all English trade denied them and their men fighting a war they could not win the people were starving to death. As much as we wished to ease their suffering they were still rebels and were an incentive for us to win so that we could relieve their plight. The Earl of Arundel showed a thoughtful side and he sent men back to bring a wagon of food for them, from Shrewsbury. It showed intelligence too for by feeding them he ensured that they would be less likely to fight us. What we should have done was to fetch more food but our late departure meant we had no time to spare and we pushed on.
Our route was dictated by the River Severn and when we neared the mountains then our troubles began. The last place of any size through which we had passed had been Welshpool; indeed, some villages and hamlets had been abandoned or were inhabited by the dead but we had been aware that we were being watched. It was our own Welshmen who showed us the signs. They spotted the tell-tale footprints and smelled the fires that the rebels had used.
We were descending to the River Wye when the attack came. Had we not had Welsh scouts then they might have caught us unawares but Dafydd knew the land and had warned us that he thought we might be ambushed and our archers rode with bows which were strung and the rest of us with shields held ready to use. The Welshmen who attacked us were good and were well hidden on the slopes to our right. Their arrows showered down and they aimed, not at the knights but our mounted archers. I saw two of my men tumble from their saddles. We had prepared for such an attack and, drawing my sword, I turned to head up the slope and through the undergrowth. While we would be shortening the distance that their arrows would have to fly, a charging horse can unnerve an archer, especially a young one and many of the archers who remained in the rebel army were younger men for we had slain the veterans at Pwll Melyn and Grosmont. An arrow thudded into my shield from so close to me that it penetrated the wood. They were using bodkins! The archer was to my left and it was Stephen of Morpeth who made the archer pay the price for his boldness by hacking through his shoulder. Arrows were now flying from behind me as my archers released their arrows. I saw an archer rise from behind a rock and aim at Captain Edgar who led the men to my right. I veered Hart towards him and sliced down across his shoulder even as he drew back the bow. My blade grated off the bone and tore through sinew and muscle. Wheeling back up the slope I urged Hart on. Their attack thwarted, the Welshmen fled but it was in vain. It cost us a couple of hours but we hunted down and slew each and every one of them. There was little point in taking prisoners and my men were angry to be ambushed. When we returned it was too late to push on through the dark of an unknown land and so we camped.
We had lost archers. Dafydd had lost two as had I. Garth of Worksop and Will Straight Shaft had been with me for some years and both had been unlucky. Each had been hit by two arrows. Will had died when his head had struck a rock as he tumbled from his horse and Garth had been hit by an arrow in the neck. Others had been wounded but the wounds would not stop them being archers. The deaths of two veterans seemed to bring my men even closer together for it was rare for us to lose a man. We buried them on a flat piece of ground overlooking the river. The priests we had brought said the right words to send them to God but it was left to Alan of the Woods to speak the words that told of their skill. It was our way and the two men would be remembered with tales around campfires, long into the future.
As the last of the Welsh arrows, bows and bowstrings were collected I sat by the fire lost in my thoughts. My thoughts were on the men alongside whom I had fought. My father, Harry, Dick Long Sword and Long John were dead as was Red Ralph. That he had died in his bed did not diminish the memory of his courage. Old Tom might be dead; I had not had the opportunity to visit with him the last time I had been in Lincoln and Peter the Priest might still live and work in the alms house in York, I knew not. The memories stirred me. I owed it to both of them to see if they were still alive and to sit and talk of the past. When the Welsh were subdued, I would make time to visit with them. Neither man had children and both viewed me as a surrogate son. Wilfred’s death had been a reminder not to forget my old comrades for we were bound together in blood.
Our archers were on either side of us and rode on the flanks to prevent a second attack but none materialised. We had slain more than eighty Welshmen. Not all had been archers but most were. Every Welsh archer we slew increased the Prince’s chances of winning back his land for archers took years to train and the archer was the best weapon that the Welsh possessed.
We neared the mouth of the river and I was relieved to see that the Prince and his ships had not yet arrived. We turned a corner on the road which twisted through the mountains and saw the castle, town and the sea just six or seven miles away. I called the Earl of Arundel forward so that he could view it. The castle of Aberystwyth, which I had seen a number of times, was on a promontory and rose above the town. Their defenders would enjoy height and we would not. Two sides were protected by the sea and the other two by the town. This was a mighty castle and King Edward had built well.
I pointed out the problems that the Prince would face when he did arrive. “As you can see there is nowhere which overlooks the castle. We can rain neither stones nor arrows at the walls. I have never used cannon and so, perhaps, they may be the answer. I know not.” I pointed to the farms which lay between us and the town. Already folk were leaving them and heading for the castle. It showed their true colours. These were no friends to England. “We will find an empty town. Captain Alan, take your archers and stop those folks taking their animals.”
“Do you wish them to be prisoners, lord?”
I shook my head, “Do not stop them from heading to the castle. Let the Welsh feed them. We need the food they have for us!”
As we continued our way down the steep and twisting road, I saw my archers gallop off. Sheep and cattle never move fast, unless they are running away from a farmer, and these were no exception. The farmers had a priority which was to get their families to safety and they abandoned their animals. By the time we had reached the flat valley bottom my archers had secured a sizeable flock of sheep and a herd of cattle. There were less than a hundred sheep and fewer than twenty cattle but, along with the pigs we found, we had food for several days and, more importantly, the Welsh did not!
We saw the town becoming abandoned as the townsfolk fled into the castle. The bridge became choked with the press of people passing over it. Dafydd and I led our men at a fast gallop towards the walls. The gates were slammed shut leaving twenty or so people trapped outside the walls. The townsfolk ran up the road which led to Aberdyfi. We let them go for we had ensured that little food had been taken into the town.
“Archers, make a defensive line so that none may enter or leave. Captain Edgar, go and find our quarters.”
We had done this before and Edgar would leave one large house for the Earl but he would find the next best one and we would have a roof and shelter. By evening the castle was surrounded and the smell of Welsh mutton being cooked drifted towards the castle. Those inside were not yet hungry but the castellan, whoever it was, would need to ration food and the smell of cooking meat would make everyone hungrier. We would not dine so well every day but the Earl and I were making a point as we waited for the Prince, his ships and his cannon. We spent the time ensuring that none could leave the castle and we had a ditch to prevent us from being surprised by a sortie.
Prince Henry arrived a week later and his fleet anchored in the river. He stepped ashore first for it
would take some time to unload the vessels. He went directly to the Earl of Arundel, “Well, Sir Thomas, have you asked them to surrender yet?”
The Earl smiled, “Not yet, Prince Henry, we thought to give you that pleasure.”
“Good! There is no time like the present. Sir William, come with us.”
We were all mailed and wore plate but, to show that we wished to speak peace we did not wear helmets and the Prince had his standard with him. The four of us strode to the gates. The nearest houses were more than a hundred paces from the walls but my archers were hidden on the rooves and would be watching for treachery.
The Prince stopped a hundred paces from the gate and, cupping his hands shouted, “I am Henry of Monmouth and Prince of Wales. You hold my castle against me and I demand that you surrender it to me. If you do so then I swear you will be treated leniently.”
A Welsh knight appeared a moment or two later above the gatehouse, “I am Rhodri of Bangor and I command this castle for the true Prince of Wales, Owain Glyndŵr. I have to tell you, Henry of Monmouth, that we will not surrender for this is not your land.”
The Prince turned to the Earl and me, “We had to try.” He turned back to the walls, “Then it will go ill for you. I will try to control my men but you should know that the aftermath of a siege is never pretty. On your head be it!”
As we made our way back, he confided, “I expected nothing less but they have yet to be battered by cannon and I hope my new gunners and their fowlers can break their walls and their spirits.” I learned that a fowler was a type of cannon. It was nine feet long and sent a rock the size of a man’s head from its mouth.