by Griff Hosker
The camp outside Chester was not large. There were no more than three thousand men and that was not enough to invade Wales, but it was the start of the muster. As soon as we arrived, the Earl of Warwick sent us straight to Flint. King Edward intended to sail directly there, and so he needed his best archers, my men.
Disappointingly, the builders had not made as much progress over the winter as we might have hoped. I think that King Edward expected to see the many stones in place, but the low walls that had been mortared would not have stopped Hamo! The outline of the central part of the castle could now be seen and seemed to be part of the rock that rose above the river. There were now, however, many more workers.
Jack of Lincoln organised the camp while I rode with David the Welshman and Stephen of Frankton towards Dyserth. There were still a couple of hours of daylight left and I wished to ride to St Asaph. The bishop of St Asaph was friendly towards the English, partly due to the generosity of King Henry, who had been a benefactor of the cathedral town. Anian de Schonau had been bishop for eight years or more and he was a devout man. Although he did not know me, he had heard my name and I was invited into his hall.
“It is good that King Edward builds a castle on the river. It will give the people a sanctuary in times of trouble.”
“My lord, are you troubled by Prince Llywelyn and his men?”
“Not troubled, Captain, for Prince Llywelyn does not worry about the Church. He is not a godless man, but he is not devout!”
“Have you seen him of late?”
“He came in the spring to speak with me on his way to Anglesey.” He lowered his voice, although we were alone in the room. “He left men in Rhuddlan and that town is now fortified.”
Rhuddlan was just a couple of miles from St Asaph and there had been neither soldiers nor any adequate defences when we had left last winter.
“Thank you, Bishop Anian. I will tell the king of your kindness.”
The king arrived by ship late the next day and I had to hide my smile as he stormed around the castle site. I had seen his temper before and knew that it was like a wild storm. You could not fight it and the rage would have to be endured. The Earl of Warwick was with him and he did not escape his wrath. I was not close to him as he had other lords with him, but as he strode towards what would be the keep of the castle, eventually, he shouted over his shoulder, “Warbow!”
The lords made a path for me. They were pleased to have a barrier between them and the king’s temper. “The delay in building fortifications is intolerable, Warbow.” We had reached the small wall that afforded a good footing and he turned to face the Clwyd. The road that we had used in winter was now invisible, for the trees were laden with foliage. “That road, whence does it lead?”
I pointed north-west. “The coast is twelve miles in that direction. The ruins of Dyserth are close by.” I pointed west. “There is no road in that direction, but it is the direct route to the Clwyd Valley and in that direction,” I turned and pointed southwest, “Rhuthun.”
He rubbed his beard and nodded. “I knew your local knowledge would aid us. And the river, this Clwyd, we can navigate it?”
“Aye, King Edward. There the river can be sailed as far as the old Welsh fort of Twthill.”
“And yet my father did not build a castle there!”
I said nothing, for it did not do to criticise King Henry.
“Then, when my army has arrived, we head in that direction and establish another castle on the Clwyd. We will establish a line of defences along that valley. Llywelyn can have his mountain fastness! I do not want that.” He turned. “Warwick, I want the land on both sides of the road clearing. I want neither tree nor vegetation within four hundred feet of the road. The timber can be used in the construction of my castles. When I bring my army, I do not want to lose a single man to ambush! That is where the Welsh excel. I want no place for them to hide, so that they have to fight a battle with me. When they lose then Wales will be my vassal once more! See to it! I return to Chester to summon my army.”
He turned on his heel and headed down to the ship, which waited for him on the river. The lords were stunned into silence. I watched as King Edward walked through sucking mud to board the small flat-bottomed boat, which ferried him across the river. He was not afraid to get dirty!
The earl broke free from the trance when King Edward stepped into the boat. “How far is it, Warbow? To the coast, I mean.”
“Sixteen miles or so, my lord.” I saw his face fall. “But the woods and vegetation do not extend that far. There are just a few miles to clear.”
He nodded. “Then if your archers will act as guards, we will get our soldiers to hack down the trees.”
That began a month of what we considered an easy duty. The four hundred men who were assigned to hew down the trees were all soldiers. Even had the Welsh wished to cause mischief, it would have been hard for them. However, we quickly developed a method that guaranteed no interference with the wood clearing. We formed a line of archers who waited in the uncut wood just four hundred paces from the tree felling. With our new archers and boys, we had a line of more than thirty pairs of eyes and ears.
Three days after the trees began to fall, we spied the Welsh as they came down the trails we had identified as their likely paths. In the three days since the work had started, we had learned how to read the land. We could stand as still as a deer sniffing the air and blend into it. King Edward was paying the men, and for that, they were prepared to stand for as long as it took.
Tom spotted the Welshmen first and he threw a small green acorn at me. I turned and he pointed down the trail. There were Welshmen two hundred paces from us, heading down the path. They had bows but their arrows were not nocked. I picked up a pebble and threw it at Jack. The message was repeated along the line, and I nocked an arrow. There were twelve of us close enough to this path and that would have to be enough to deter them. My arrow would be the signal for the others to release theirs.
I waited until the leading Welsh archer was just one hundred paces from us. Any closer and they might have seen us. The arrow slammed into his chest, the green-dyed goose feathers almost burying themselves in his body. Eleven other arrows followed. One Welshman managed to get an arrow away and it struck the tree close to my head. Then they fled. I took the hunting horn I had taken with me and blew two blasts upon it. That was the signal for my archers to follow the sound.
We found six dead or dying Welshmen. From the blood trails, they had taken their wounded with them. We discovered one more body, a mile down the path that climbed up towards the high ground. We stopped and returned to the workings.
That night we reported to the Earl of Warwick. He was not alarmed by the attack, in fact, we had all expected it, but it was a spur to prick the tree fellers to work even harder.
The next two days saw similar attempts to stop the work, but they failed. There were many paths through the trees, but we had them all covered. We gained arrows, bows and strings as well as wickedly sharp knives and even a few coins. It was the easiest work my archers had ever had.
King Edward returned in the middle of August. More and more soldiers had arrived in the month he had been away, and we now had more than ten thousand men. The widened roadway was almost finished, and the king actually smiled. The castle now looked like a castle. The ramps and cranes to enable the towers and walls to be built were in place, and wheelbarrows filled with stones and mortar trundled up them.
The king held a council of war with his leaders. I was not invited but I did not expect to be. However, Sir John Malton arrived with his small retinue and he sought me out so that I learned more than I might have expected.
I had known Sir John since he had been Lord Edward’s squire and he had been with me when I had travelled to meet the Mongol khan. He looked genuinely pleased to see me and after we had exchanged news about our families, I asked him what he knew of the campaign.
He pointed south and west. “Edmund, the king’s brother, has
taken all of the land in the south as far as Aberystwyth. There he begins to build a castle, which will secure the mouth of that river. Prince Llywelyn has withdrawn all of his men and placed them here, to the north. This is where the battle will be fought and won!”
As with all such wars, the men who would do the actual fighting found out what they were to do last! It was Sir John who informed me that my archers were to scout out the road to Rhuddlan. King Edward had decided to begin his war immediately. It was August and the days were long. I did not know it then, but he had a clever plan, though he told no one, for he wanted the surprise.
We left before dawn and we took our sumpters with our spare arrows. As it was summer, we did not bother with tents. Edward, son of John of Nottingham, led the boys and horse holders. We told them to follow after the vanguard, King Edward’s household knights.
“Will we not be in trouble if we are too close?”
Will Yew Tree laughed. “Stay far enough to the side and you will be safe enough. Now that the way has been cleared, we have the widest road I have ever seen!”
In truth, it was a strange feeling to be riding in such an open area and I felt exposed. Having said that, we made good time to the end of the cleared way. We were just a couple of miles from Dyserth when the vegetation closed in on us, but fortunately much had been cleared when King Henry had tried to build a castle there. We had a clear enough sight of the sides to spot any ambush.
We knew the castle ruins well, for we had used them to keep watch on the Welsh in Rhuddlan and beyond. We reined in and, from the back of my mount, I could see the two miles to the wooden castle that had been thrown up next to the river. Our main army would be moving behind us and we had at least half an hour before they caught up with us. I wanted to study the defences. Before we closed with it, I was able to determine that there were many soldiers there. The fires told me that. But I could also see that there were no town walls to defend.
“Alan, ride back to the king and tell him that they have a wooden castle and many men but no wall. We will ride nearer and have a closer view.”
He turned and rode off, not directly towards Rhuddlan but down one of the many streams that fed into the Clwyd. I knew them well. This was the land where I had hunted on foot. The streams were often the easier way to travel, and one who wished to remain hidden had a better chance of doing so.
David followed me but it was I who chose the stream. The folds of the land hid us from the castle and would do so until we were almost upon it. When we reached the Clwyd, I had my men dismount to make an even smaller target. We strung our bows and nocked an arrow each. Leading our horses, we made our way to the old Welsh fort of Twthill. It was two hundred paces from the outer defences of the new castle, but the hill hid us from view.
Leaving most of the men at the foot of the hill, Stephen, David and I made our way to the top. When we neared it, we crawled. There was enough wild, unkempt grass and weed to hide us. Once at the top, we saw that the Welsh were camped not only in the castle but also in the outer bailey, while their ponies were tethered and guarded beyond the walls. They were grazing close to the river. They were so close that we could hear their noise. We kept still and David tapped his ear. He could hear the sentries one hundred and fifty paces from us.
I did not wish to alarm the Welsh and we slipped down the old hill fort.
David said, “I could not hear all the words, but they know that King Edward is at the castle they call ‘The Flint’. I do not think they know we are close.”
That made sense to me. The Welsh had spies. The river was used by both nations and it was likely that Llywelyn knew King Edward had arrived with his army. What he could not have predicted was that King Edward would act so promptly. In that regard, the king had the chance to catch the Welsh unawares.
At the bottom, I said, “Robin, ride to the king. Ask him if he can send archers here. We can use Twthill to rain arrows into their flanks. The Welsh occupy both the castle and the ground around it.” I did not need to elaborate. I knew King Edward had a sharp mind. He would know that the Welsh would not be expecting him.
He mounted his horse and walked it for half a mile before mounting it and galloping off.
“Tether your horses by the river and fetch your bows.”
Stephen asked, “What is it that we intend, Captain? Are we not simply scouts?”
“There is no such thing as simply a scout. We are King Edward’s archers. Those two hundred and seventy crossbowmen he is paying a fortune may think that they are the elite, but they are wrong. King Edward knows our worth. He will rely on me to use my mind. I plan on securing those ponies for us. It will deprive the Welsh of mobility and, who knows, we may be able to affect the outcome of this attack.”
We moved up the slope and I smiled at the struggle enjoyed by Stephen. He had mail and a shield. Although his shield was over his back, he found it hard to climb the slippery, long grass.
Once at the top, I spread my men out and we slowly advanced to the tussocky top of Twthill. We could see the Welsh sentries and were able to move when they were distracted by a moving pony or a shout from one of the camps. That the Welsh did not expect an attack was clear to me, for the men in the camps had their arms stacked. The walls were manned, and I have no doubt the sentries there were vigilant, but they had no idea that our army was so close.
We managed to get to the last ditch on the north side of Twthill. We were above the sentries and the ponies but below the walls of Rhuddlan. The small camps, which were dotted beyond the ditch that surrounded the castle under construction, were occupied by their most deadly weapon, their archers. We could get no closer, but once we heard the sound of combat, we would be within one hundred and fifty paces of the curtain wall and forty-odd paces from the pony guards. We could hear them talking, although only David could understand them.
The horns from the castle walls told us that King Edward was here. Approaching from Dyserth would have given him cover until the last mile or so. At the same time, I heard a shout from one of the pony guards.
“Now!”
I rose and sent an arrow at the Welshman who was pointing beyond me. My men slew the other six pony guards and as I nocked another arrow, I saw what the pony guard had seen – Matthew of Tarporley was leading his forty archers to join us. I pointed to the camp and then turned to send an arrow into it.
Stephen ran to begin to herd the ponies back towards us. It was a brave thing to do as the Welsh in their camp would soon be sending their arrows at us.
We had the advantage that we had strung bows and arrows nocked. Each of us aimed at a Welsh archer. At a range of fewer than one hundred and fifty paces, we would have been embarrassed if we had not struck flesh! We also had the advantage of a ditch. We were able to release and then as we nocked another arrow, move below the top of the ditch so that when the Welsh aimed at the place from which we had sent the arrow, we had moved and their arrow was wasted.
I ducked, nocked and ran. When I rose, I saw that Stephen, his shield pricked by arrows, had started most of the pony herd and they were hurtling towards the river, away from the castle. I sent another arrow at a Welsh sergeant who was trying to rally men to come and shift us. The war arrow struck his arm. Then a horn sounded, and the Welsh archers turned to head back within the walls of the wooden castle.
“Archers! Now is our chance! Close with them!”
We left the safety of the ditch and ran after the Welsh archers. We ran, released, and as we ran again, nocked another arrow. We were closing with the Welsh all the time and sending arrows into unprotected backs. As it was the archers who were running, we knew that no arrows would be coming back in our direction.
The outer curtain wall was a wooden one and unfinished. While there was a gate for the archers to use, there was no gatehouse. Tom and Martin, along with John, son of John, were my youngest archers. That meant they were the fittest and, in the case of John, the most eager. I saw a Welsh archer try to close the gate and my arrow not only
slammed into his arm but pinned it to the wooden wall. The Welsh could not close the gate while he was pinned and my three youngest archers took advantage and, as the rest of our men knocked archers from the wooden wall, they wrenched open the gate and entered.
I could now hear the battle in the village as the attack began on the rest of Rhuddlan’s walls. My arms were burning with the effort of pulling back the bowstring, but I put the pain from my mind. I sent another arrow towards the walls and knocked a spearman from the fighting platform. With the outer gate opened and in our possession, we poured through it. The men on the walls tried to flee across the outer bailey, but the gate to the inner bailey was closing. John, son of John, Tom and Martin were the closest and they sent arrow after arrow into the men who tried to close the gate. The Welsh were defeating themselves, for none wanted to be left outside and were unwilling to sacrifice themselves.
Stephen de Frankton burst through the gate we had used, with the rest of Matthew of Tarporley’s archers, and he saw the half-closed inner bailey gate. Holding his shield before him, he ran at the gate. Every Welsh bow and spear that was close enough was aimed at the man at arms. It was my archers, with their green flighted arrows, who protected him. He was not an archer, but he was of our company and we kept his passage clear. A Welsh warrior had almost managed to close the gate when he hurled himself at it and the weight of his armour, weapons and shield, burst it asunder. I joined my three youngest archers, and we were through the gate moments after Stephen.
We were just in time. We all had an arrow nocked and the seven men who were attacking my brave man at arms suddenly found themselves under attack from the machine-like arms of my three youngest archers. I had loosed all of my arrows, and so I dropped my bow and drew my sword. I ran to Stephen’s side and as I blocked one axe, which was aimed at his head, with my sword, I drew my bodkin blade and rammed it through the eye of the axeman.