by Griff Hosker
I knew that the Beauchamps were well connected and an important family. I had fought alongside the earl, Richard Beauchamp and knew him to be a steady warrior. I could work with him. “Then I will do all that I can to ensure an English victory but I will not be profligate with the men I lead for I take my family and they are more precious to me, Prince Henry, than any king or prince.”
If I had slapped him, I could not have expected more shock but he smiled and nodded, “And that is what makes you the man you are. I am content, Will.”
The next day I led my men to Dover. We stayed at Canterbury so that we could all pray in the cathedral at the site of the murder of the martyr and then we reached Dover where the harbour was filled with ships. Even though we were a relatively small force, less than two thousand men, we each had two horses and that took many ships. I was just grateful that the voyage would be less than twenty-five miles and we would not have to sleep aboard the ships. I did not sail aboard the royal flagship for I wished to sail with my knights and men.
When we reached Calais then the real campaign would begin. I was in France for the battles and the two earls and the Bishop were the ones who would make political overtures to John the Fearless. The Bishop, with armed men, rode ahead to meet with the Duke of Burgundy for the negotiations which would bring us to war with the Duke of Orléans. This war would be a different war for us. We would not have to scout, at least not yet, for we not only did not know with whom we would fight but also where. It could be anywhere from Calais to the borders of the lands of the Germans. It gave us the chance to let our horses recover. It might have been a short journey but horses were sensitive creatures and they needed rest. I had only brought one horse, Hawk, for Hart was getting old and it made me realise that I too was getting old. Would this be my last campaign?
Chapter 16
The negotiations did not take long, Duke John of Burgundy was called the Fearless for a reason. He was not only without fear he was quick thinking and the opportunity to have reinforcements and from England was not an opportunity to be spurned. The Duke had an army of, it was rumoured, 60,000 men. I doubted that but whatever the true numbers it was a large army and they were heading for Paris. We were a very small army but the Duke, it appeared, valued us.
We would have to make the long journey without the aid of the Burgundians and so we moved as though in enemy territory with scouts out and a strong guard for our baggage train. The thousands of arrows we had brought could not be replaced and they would be as valuable as our horses. As we moved towards the French capital, we met bands of Écorcheurs. These were bands of bandits who were using the civil war to rob any who used the roads and had been created by Bernard, the Duke of Armagnac, as a way of destabilising the Kingdom. They stripped their victims of everything leaving the naked bodies to litter the highways of France. One band was both large enough and bold enough to attack us.
We were passing through a forest close to Beauvais when my archer scouts spotted the waiting bandits. They were bold men and most of them had served either Burgundy or Orléans before going into business for themselves. They just did that which they had learned from the high and the mighty. They had not, however, met English archers. It had been almost seventy years since the Battle of Crécy where the French had learned of the skill of the English longbows. When my archers turned tail and ran for the main column, they just saw lightly armed hobilars. They did not see their leather-covered bows. I was in the van and when the archers galloped towards us, I ordered the knights and men at arms to form a half-circle of spears and lances. Alan of the Woods was no longer with us but Owen the Welshman was an equally skilled captain and he led the archer scouts behind us to join the rest of our bowmen who were already stringing their bows.
As a battle, it was nothing for it was won with the first flight of two hundred arrows. The mob, for that was what they were, came at us en masse and despite their mail and helmets, they had little defence against the two hundred bodkin tipped missiles which plunged down amongst them. As Captain Owen and the advance guard added to the aerial attack so the casualties amongst the Écorcheurs increased. I did not even have to order the charge for when more than eighty of their number lay dead or dying, the rest fled. The attack merely delayed our arrival at Duke John’s camp by half a day. We had had to clear the bodies from the road. Unable and unwilling to bury them we burned their bodies and the pall of smoke was a warning for other such brigands to leave our small column of men alone. The Bishop warned us that there were much larger bands closer to Paris and that they supported the Duke of Orléans and the Armagnac faction. We would be fighting with them again.
The Burgundian camp was close to St. Cloud which was a short distance from Paris and spread over a large area but Duke John knew our worth both as soldiers and as potential allies. Space had been left close to the hall he had commandeered for our camp and while our squires saw to our horses and erected our own tents, I went along with the other three leaders to meet with the Duke in the dining chamber in the hall. I guessed that the hall had belonged to a supporter of the Armagnac faction who must have fled when the Duke and his army arrived. We were given a warm welcome by the Duke and his leaders. While the food was brought to us, he told us of his plans and of the opposition we would face. He spoke in French and although I could speak the language, I had to concentrate to understand each word. The longer I was in France then the better was my understanding and by the time I left France, I was fluent once more.
The Duke was a plain-spoken man and he explained his choice of battlefield first and he did so simply, “The Bretons are in Paris and that is why we have withdrawn here for I wish to draw them from the streets of Paris. I have the support of the burghers and merchants of Paris and I would not lose their support by fighting a war in their streets. I wish to fight them here. Bernard, Count of Armagnac, brings his rabble, the Écorcheurs, to fight with as well as the knights of Orléans and Armagnac. He relies on the sheer numbers of his mob and he thinks he has us for he outnumbers us but with your archers, we will teach him that he is wrong.”
I saw him examining our faces as he spoke. The other three had been sent by the Prince and his father for disparate and varied reasons. They could each fight but I was the one who would lead the army and it must have shown on my face for Duke John suddenly said, “You are the one they call the Strongstaff!” He used the English word and I nodded. “I like the name and it suits you for you have the look of one who can endure blows in a battle and not run! I can see that you are the warrior here.” If he thought to insult the other three then he was wrong for they had each already told me that they bowed to my military prowess. I do not think, however, he was insulting them. He was a plain-speaking man which explained how he had won the support of the ordinary people of France. “If you were in command of this army then how would you win the battle?”
I was speaking French and so I considered each word before I spoke it. “We met these Écorcheurs on the way here, my lord, and they were reckless, wild and we sent them packing in less than a handful of heartbeats. I would draw them on to our bows. We have over 500 archers and they can send 5000 arrows before enemy horseman can cover four hundred paces. When their attack is broken then I would use your horsemen, knights and men at arms to scatter them.”
He laughed, “And it is almost as though you are reading my mind, Strongstaff. My plan was close to that. I had intended to draw them onto my swords, lances and shields. They say I killed Louis of Orléans and they hate me with a passion. When they see my banner, they will come for me. I will incorporate your plan into mine, for it is a good one.”
I nodded, “And did you have this man killed?”
I saw shock on the faces of the two earls and heard the sharp intake of breath from the Bishop but the Duke merely smiled. “Some men deserve to die and do not deserve the honour of death in battle! Louis was a violator of women and worse, he cuckolded the King. He was attacked and killed when he left the Queen’s bedchamber.” He ra
ised his goblet, “You are not afraid to speak what is in your mind and I like that. I would have when we fight, you and your retinue be with my bodyguards. There the fighting will be the fiercest and I will be happier knowing that I have your arm to protect me.” He had not given me a direct answer but his eyes told me that he had ordered the assassination. Duke John was a ruthless man and for all of his plain speaking, he would get his own way.
“King Henry sent me here to serve him and England. My men and I will be honoured to act as your bodyguard.” This meant that we would be in the heart of the battle and the thick of the fighting. Duke John had killed a prince of France and they would try to kill him. King Henry and his son had put my men in extreme danger.
The Duke was a soldier through and through. He spent the rest of the feast explaining his dispositions and his choice of ground. His words gave me confidence for he knew what he was talking about. Before he retired, he came to speak to me, “When your Bishop approached me about an alliance, I was wary for it is known that your King seeks France for his son.” He held up a hand. “There is little point in denial and besides I do not care. I am ruthless and I know that he is too. He does what he does for England. I do what I do for Burgundy and France. The battle between England and France is not yet here. When that day comes it will be an interesting battle.” His eyes bored into me. I used the same technique for it helped to see into a man’s soul. “I need you and your men to win me this battle. I will not need you after.”
“And if we lose?”
He laughed so loudly that nobles turned to look, “Neither of us believes that. Your war bows are renowned as you showed on the way here and I have the better knights. Orléans is a weak man and not a warrior to be feared. If you were commanding the opposition or your young Prince Henry then it might be different.” He grinned, “I would still win but it might take me longer and I might lose more men. Fight well and you shall be rewarded.”
It was my turn to smile, “I always fight well; I have been doing so for more than forty years and there is no other way to fight. Those who do not do so lie in unmarked graves!”
He clapped a bear-like arm around me, “Good fellow! You will do for me!”
As with all such battles the two forces camped across from each other with their forces arranged traditionally. The wings were protected by horsemen and the ranks were arrayed in successive lines. Both sides would use missiles to weaken the enemy before mounted men and men on foot clashed to settle the battle. The difference was a small but crucial one in the battle of St. Cloud for we had archers and Owen the Welshman had stakes cut behind which the archers stood. The fact that we had hundreds rather than thousands meant that, on this battlefield, they appeared to be an insignificant number. I knew that they would have an effect which was out of proportion to their numbers. We had brought many arrows and each archer had a bundle of forty arrows which he could use. There were more arrows than the enemy had warriors! The French and the Burgundians liked to fight on horseback when they could and so I lined up close to Duke John. We were not directly behind our archers; instead, before us was a force of almost a thousand crossbows. Each had a large pavise behind which they sheltered. When the enemy attack was spent, they would pick up their pavise and move to the side. These were mercenaries. They came from many different nations. Some had the windlass type crossbow which was wound back while others had one which required a foot and a strong back. Each man had no more than twenty quarrels, or bolts for it was unlikely that they would have the opportunity to use more than half of that number.
While Duke John rode down the line exhorting his men to deeds of great valour, I spoke to my familia. In my case, it was almost entirely made up of my family. Sir John and Sir Henry of Stratford had both been my squires and so they felt like family. “Remember that we do not need ransom. I suspect that when this battle is done then, whatever the outcome, we shall return to England.” That had been the gist of my conversation with the Duke.
Sir John frowned, “Then why are we here at all?”
“Prince Henry believes that France is his by right and he has more claim to it than either King Charles or his son. One day he will need to come and claim his birthright. We are here to test the strength of the foes he will face.”
“Then we are not here at the command of King Henry?”
I smiled at Sir Richard, “I have been involved with the Kings of England since before the time of the Peasants’ Revolt. Both kings that I have served have been clever men and they play chess with real people. You have all played chess and know that it is a game of deception, traps and sacrifices. King Henry would have his son King of France. That is all that I will say.”
My knights understood the reality of keeping a crown and winning another.
When the Duke returned, we all knelt while we were blessed by the Archbishop of Rheims. The enemy did the same for many thousands might die this day and each of us wanted to ascend to heaven. The blessing done, we mounted our horses.
Both sides had some cannons which were fired to begin the battle. Most men were able to move away from the missiles as the stones seemed to move more slowly than an arrow. You saw the smoke and were able to watch the rock’s flight and only a couple of careless men were killed. In my opinion, all that it did was to frighten the horses and make the air smell foul! Then their crossbows advanced and began a duel with our crossbows. The pavise behind which the Burgundians sheltered won that battle for us and the exchange did not last long. The enemy outnumbered us and the Écorcheurs, along with the knights of Armagnac led the wild charge. I saw that the Bretons and the men of Orléans waited and would be the second wave.
Owen the Welshman looked to me and I nodded. I heard his voice sound above the thundering hooves of the men who were galloping towards us. “Draw!”
The front ranks of the enemy were made up of horsemen whose horses had caparisons and some even had mailed heads. The riders were armoured in plate and mail and they were followed by men on foot who were also armoured. It was like a steel snake racing to gobble us up.
“Release!”
His next command would be lost for the arrows soared towards the enemy and the sound of the enemy horses, combined with the sounds of the bows would hide his words from us. I heard the cracks of crossbows as they sent bolts towards the enemy too. The difference was that while the crossbows were being reloaded the archers had sent a second, third, fourth and fifth flight towards the horsemen. Both the bolts and arrows cut a swathe through the enemy who charged at us but it was clear that the ones attacking the hedgehog of stakes and the successive flights of arrows had suffered more casualties. The enemy visibly slowed for there were many bodies to negotiate. I saw that some of the arrows had fallen amongst the men who followed the horsemen while the bolts had only slowed the front rank. The rest were intact.
The Duke turned to me and smiled, “I should have archers! They are like machines!”
“Yet they are men, my lord, and while you can train a man to use a crossbow in a month or so it takes a lifetime to become an archer! The men I lead began training when they were less than ten summers old.”
The crossbows managed a ragged second volley before they were struck by the horsemen. Some managed to flee while others were butchered. The attack on the archers had faltered for the horses had to slow to negotiate the stakes. Some of the archers raced amongst the ones who made it to the stakes; hamstringing the horses, pulling the riders from their backs and slaying them through their eyeholes using bodkin daggers.
It was clear that the attack on the archers had failed but the main attack had cleared a thousand crossbowmen and we had to react or take a charge at the halt. The Duke shouted, “For Burgundy and France!”
His standard-bearer sounded the horn and we began to trot towards the enemy. The few remaining crossbowmen were caught between the hooves of the men of Armagnac and our horses. Some must have survived but most were either speared or trampled. The difference to us was that our spears an
d lances were unbroken while some of the enemy had had theirs shattered spearing crossbowmen. Abelard and the other squires were two ranks behind us and for that, I was grateful. None would have to fetch us spare horses. If we were unhorsed then we would simply fight on foot.
I had done this so many times that, even though we were still more than a hundred paces apart, I knew which knight I would fight. He had a full-faced bascinet with a boar’s snout. He had a shield with ten gold and blue horizontal stripes. I vaguely recollected that such a livery belonged to the knights of Grandpre. He had a lance and I still used my spear which meant he would have a longer reach and would strike me first. Neither group of knights would be riding at full tilt for the field between us was littered with the bodies and equipment of the crossbowmen. That suited me and I did not push my horse. The Frenchman, however, was spurring his mount and urging him on. Horses are brave creatures but in obeying his master the horse was slipping and sliding on the bloody, muddy ground. The knight did not have a stable platform and I did.
Duke John was rightly named for he rode ahead of all of us and he, too, was riding as hard as he could. My familia was to the left of me and they kept a perfectly straight line. We all hit the enemy as one. The French lance wavered so much as it came towards me that the knight would be lucky to hit anything at all. As luck would have it his horse slipped as he neared me and his lance struck the poleyn protecting my knee. It hurt and I would ache for weeks but it neither stopped nor slowed me and the wooden head shattered. I thrust hard with my spear. My knee prevented me from standing but the slip from the Frenchman’s horse meant that the knight was unbalanced and had to use his left arm to stop himself from falling to the ground. My spear struck his breastplate beneath his surcoat. His momentum and my powerful arm drove it up and under the besagew to pierce his aketon and tear through his shoulder and into his neck. I think he was dead, even as he fell to earth. He fell away from me and I was able to tear my spear from the body. I still had my weapon and I saw that it was needed.