Flodden, p.13
Flodden, page 13
As Ethelbert handed the billhook to me, he said, “Put it to good use, captain. My brother was a brave man, a little reckless but he did not deserve to be cut down by border bandits.”
I did not say it but I knew that the raid had been prompted by the raid of the men of Ford on Jedburgh. It was tit for tat.
I found myself between Egbert and Alan, who chatted to me as we embedded some stakes before us. They would be disguised by the broom, “You are a long way from home, captain.”
I nodded, “My men will already be heading for Newcastle and the muster.” I replied enigmatically. I could not tell them that I was a spy and I think I left them with the opinion that I sought glory. I did not.
Thousands of men driving animals before them make a great noise. We knew they were coming long before we saw them. The animals complained and metal jangled. The men sang and bantered. As with all raiders one of the first things they had taken was ale and wine from the churches. They must have thought that with no sign of pursuit, they had got away with the raid, the animals and the treasure. Their celebrations would be premature. It was late in the afternoon and Sir William had impressed upon everyone, especially the men of Milfield, that the order to attack would be his and his alone. His horn would signal the shower of arrows that would fall upon the Scots.
There were Milfield men close to us and when the smell of burning from the houses they were destroying reached us and the pall of smoke drifted towards us, it took all their self-control not to pre-empt the attack. Edgar and Alan counselled them, “We can rebuild homes but let us wait until we have these barbarians where we want them. They will not escape our wrath. Sir William strikes me as a good leader. We might be outnumbered but we have surprise.”
I nodded, “It is clear that they do not know we are here and as the sun is lowering in the sky and yon field has a fence around it, I believe that we may have the perfect place to stop them.”
It proved even better than Sir William might have hoped for, obligingly, the Scots camped across the road from where we waited. They tethered their horses and the huge herd of captured horses, on the far side of the plain. The other animals were penned in by a wall of horses and a hedgerow. It was August and they would not need either tents or hovels but they lit fires and slaughtered two bulls. They did not belong to the men of Milfield whose own animals were within the woods but the act added fuel to the anger of the waiting warriors.
Sir William chose his moment perfectly. The last of the Scots had tramped into the camp and were about to tether their horses when the horn sounded. The nearest Scottish soldiers were just fifty yards from us but the broom on both sides of the road hid us from view. Our archers were good bowmen. They were descended from the archers of Agincourt and Crécy. Their forebears had destroyed the Scots at the battle of Falkirk Bridge and Neville’s Cross. They could loose ten arrows a minute and the Scots began to die.
It took five flights before the Scots even knew what had struck them but when they did it became clear where their enemy lay and they rushed through the broom to get at the archers. I stood braced knowing that I had two men to protect and that they would keep loosing as long as they could and would be oblivious to danger. The first Scot who parted the yellow shrub levelled his spear at Egbert. The billhook I used was not as good as mine but it mattered not for I knew how to use it. I flicked the spearhead to the side and then jabbed with the short point of the billhook. His momentum propelled him onto the tip and the corner of bill finished the job begun by the spike. The arrows of Sir William’s archers were decimating the Scots but some men made it across the road to attack us. None had the pike and most used a spear, sword or axe. The billhook was the perfect weapon to use and I swept it before me. Often that stopped them and then one of the archers would simply lower his bow a little and drive an arrow through leather, flesh and bone. It was a mad few moments as Scottish soldiers, some half-drunk already, raced at us. It was the same all along our thin line of warriors. My billhook was a surprise and the two archers flanking me also added to the slaughter.
Two men were almost my undoing. A handful of men raced over in a group. They were obviously shield brothers. With swords and bucklers, they ran directly at the three of us. Clearly outnumbering us they would, unless we used skill, overwhelm us. Egbert and Alan slew two immediately. I swung the billhook at the arm of the first man and the edge bit into the flesh to break bone. His scream was feral. The second man who faced me saw his chance and he lunged at me. Had I been using my own billhook I would have rammed the point at the base of the billhook into him but the one I used had no such adornment. Instead, I swung the bottom of the bill to smash into his knee. He lost his footing and I struck as he hit the ground, I smacked the shaft into the back of his head. The wounded man swung his sword at me but the wound had weakened him and I parried the blow with my billhook. The man I had stunned began to rise. I jabbed the point of the billhook at the wounded man and he could not raise his buckler. The point drove into his chest and I quickly pulled it out and swung the billhook to take the head from the rising man. Alan and Egbert killed the last two. The rest of the archers continued to rain death on the Scots and no more crossed the road.
Sir William shouted, “Men at arms and hobilars, mount your horses.”
I handed the billhook to Ethelbert. Alan said, “You use that billhook like a fencing master uses his sword. That was smart work, captain.”
I nodded, “And it is good to know that the archers of the north are so skilful.”
The boys holding the horses were ready and I mounted Lion. The rest had done him good but I would still have to husband him. I followed the other riders and we crossed a plain filled with Scottish bodies. By my estimate, more than five hundred had been slain and the wounded who survived would be prisoners. I doubted that there would be many for the men of Milfield were angry. Only the lords would be taken and that would be for ransom. Lord Home and many of his men had mounted their horses and fled towards Ford Castle and the border. While the castle was not a major obstacle it would determine the route the Scots would take. They would have to avoid the castle walls and my local knowledge came to the fore. I knew where they would ride and I took the line of least resistance and rode further to the south than the rest. We were not an organised column that followed Lord Home and his disintegrating warband. We were small groups of horsemen. I found myself riding alongside six hobilars and two mounted men at arms. I was the only one plated. The rest had mail and metal studded jakkes. They carried spears and two of the hobilars had latches. My plate made them think I might have been a knight and they grouped around me. Sir William and the majority of the riders were closer to Ford. They would cut off many of the Scots but I knew that Lord Home would be heading for the ford over the Tweed. I knew it well.
We crashed through some bushes and I saw them just forty paces from us. I might not have recognised the knight for I had only seen him once before but I knew his banner and battle standard carried by the knight. The hobilars whooped for joy and spurred their horses as they saw rich prey ahead. Orders from me would have been futile and so, along with the men at arms I rode at Lord Home. His capture would be a severe blow to king James and might make him reconsider his decision to invade. The men with him were his bodyguards but I guessed, as I saw one fall to the bolt from a hobilar’s latch, that they were not as familiar with fighting mounted as the border horse. I rode at the man at arms with the mail jakke who tried to wheel his horse to take me on. He flailed with his sword and I struck at his left arm, the one holding the reins. He had mail covering his arms but even so, my sword hurt him and he dropped his reins. His horse reared and I rammed my sword under his chin. He tumbled to the ground. We were not having it our own way, however. Lord Home, his standard bearer and a third knight had disposed of three hobilars, even as another five border horsemen rode to our aid. The hobilars were good at fighting lightly armed men but the plated knights were too good for them. I rode directly at Lord Home but the standard bearer spurred his horse to place himself between me and his lord.
I wore no spurs and he did. To a knight, that means he is fighting a commoner and that he, the knight, should win. The smile on his face showed me that he was confident, over-confident. He flicked his sword at me, his hands as fast as I had ever seen. I had been trained well and I riposted and stabbed at the same time. My tip scratched across his tunic, tearing it and scraping along his breastplate. His eyes registered his shock. Holding the standard meant that he could not use the reins and he was skilfully guiding his horse with his knees. I had reins and I whipped Lion’s head around and urged him towards the knight’s back. There was a slight gap between his breastplate and faulds. I swung the edge of my sword towards the gap and sliced into flesh and his spine. It was a mortal blow and as he spread his arms in a crucifix he and the standard fell from the mighty warhorse. I dug my heels into Lion’s flanks to get to Lord Home but one of the knights who had been unhorsed rammed his spear into the chest of my brave mount. It cost the knight his life as Lion’s body crushed him but threw me from the saddle. By the time I had recovered my feet, the Scottish lord had fled with the last of his men. Just one man at arms and a hobilar, of those that had followed me, remained.
I had just picked up the standard when Sir William and the bulk of the men rode in, “A mighty prize, Captain James, and Lord Home?”
“Fled across the ford.”
He shook his head, “We shall follow but our prey has escaped. I will see you back at Milfield. Well done.”
I walked over to Lion and stroked his head. He had died quickly for he was an old horse but I would have wished for a better end. He should have come home to Ecclestone and enjoyed grazing on the green. The hobilar was picking over the dead knights and John, the man at arms, led over the standard bearer’s mount, “I know it will not compensate for the loss of such a brave beast but it is something. You fight well, captain. When I followed the captain of billmen I wondered if I would have to guard you. That was mightily done.”
“Aye, but the greatest prize evaded us.” I waved an arm, “Profit from the dead for you deserve it.”
We took the plate, mail, coins and weapons from the dead and put them on the backs of the horses of the Scottish warriors. Our own dead we placed on the mounts that had survived. They would be buried in the churchyard at Milfield. We walked back and reached the village well after dark. We unsaddled and tended to our horses. As I took off the saddle, I saw that the squire had burned the horse’s name into the leather. The horse was called Duncan. As I led him to the water trough I said, “I will give you a good home, Duncan, but I wish that Lion had not given his life for me.”
With the archers guarding the field full of captives we buried our dead. Sir William and his weary men rode in just as the women of Milfield fetched a horsemeat stew for us to eat. The Scottish horses killed in the skirmish had not been wasted.
“He escaped us but we have a mighty victory and the loss of the standard will hurt him.” He dismounted, “Come, captain, I would eat with you for you served your king and country well today and I would learn more about you.”
I enjoyed his company for he was a warrior who had served England and the north. He was not a young man and yet he had willingly ridden a weary horse into Scotland seeking his prey. I told him all that I could about my life but the secrets of Perkin Warbeck and the service to King Henry remained that way. “And what now, my lord?”
“The earl wanted us to stay in the field until the Scots came. Well, they have come. I have learned that they burned and raided seven villages. We need to return the animals that were taken. As for the treasure taken,” he shrugged, “I am not sure that they will get that back. The bodies of the Scots have been looted already. They will have to address their claims to the court. When we defeat the Scots then it is they who will have to compensate the people of Wooler.”
“You are that confident that we can win, my lord?” I was too but I wanted to know why the knight appeared so confident.
“Aye, for today we were outnumbered by almost eight to one and yet we slew hundreds and lost few. If we meet them in open battle then they will lose.”
“And what if King James chooses his battlefield wisely?”
“You are right, captain, and we should not count on victory before they have drawn swords. So far as I know, this Scottish king has yet to lead men in war. Our own king is making his reputation in France. Perhaps King James will do the same.” He smiled, “The Earl of Surrey and his sons are good men and I trust to the archers and billmen of England.”
The next day the knights and those with property were separated from the rest of the captives. They would be sent to Newcastle and await their ransom. That still left us with almost a thousand men. Sir William had their weapons and mail taken from them and then their boots. I know that they expected to be hanged and even the humiliation of marching home barefoot seemed a small price to pay for their lives. They might fight us again but a man who marches many miles barefoot will take some time to recover. The men of Lord Home had suffered and if we saw them on the battlefield would not fear them. The Home standard I carried would be a severe blow to their confidence.
It took almost ten days to return the animals and to distribute some of the treasure we had taken from the dead. We were about to return north to Ford when the news came that the Scottish army was heading south, for Norham and Ford. Etal had been abandoned and Sir William wisely led us back to Newcastle. Word was sent to the Earl of Surrey who was still at Pontefract and as we headed south and east, we warned all that we passed of the plague that was about to descend. The preliminaries were over and the next time I drew my sword it would be in a battle for the north.
Chapter 11
Norham August 1513
By the time we reached Newcastle riders told us that both Norham and Ford were under siege. The Scots had brought bombards with them and Lord Dacre knew that it would only be a matter of time before they fell. Norman-built castles could not withstand bombards and gunpowder. The muster had begun and the town of Newcastle as well as the moor to the north of the town were filled with contingents of warriors. Sir Edward was there already and the men of Lancashire, all seven thousand of them, were on the place they called the Town Moor. Sir Edward was in the castle and before I could join my men and my son, I had to speak with the high and the mighty in the Great Hall of Newcastle Castle.
Lord Dacre was in a good mood when he heard of our victory. “It may make the Scottish king reconsider his decision.”
Sir William counselled caution, “My lord, Norham and Ford will fall and Berwick will be besieged. Even if King James chooses not to attack, the Earl of Surrey, when he comes, will have to retake those castles if only to protect the border.”
I felt that I had to support the Yorkshireman, “Sir William is right, my lord, for Lord Home brought seven thousand men south on a cattle raid. If they took just that number, with their bombards then all three castles would easily fall and then there is just Morpeth to bar his way here to Newcastle.”
Lord Dacre shook his head, “You are wrong, Sir William. Norham and the other castles did not stop Lord Home’s raid. The days of the border castles are over but what you say about King James fighting defensively is interesting. You seem, Captain James, to have a better grasp on the land than many men, where would you think that they would fight to hold us?”
I had an idea in my head but I did not wish to risk making a fool of myself. I said nothing.
Sir William said, softly, “Come, Captain James, I know that you have in that clever head of yours an idea. Tell us and let us be the judge of its merits.”
I nodded, “As you know, Sir William, the Scots like the route to England across the Tweed and through Wooler. Thanks to your victory they know that the plain of Milfield does not suit them but, further north and west there are two ridges which run southwest to northeast. Flodden Edge and Branxton Ridge which would allow them to use their cannons to great effect and make a killing field over which our men would have to march.”
Lord Dacre nodded, “Then I would have you show me these ridges. The Earl of Surrey will need our intelligence when he comes north. The day after tomorrow you should be prepared to ride. I will bring border horsemen with me.”
Sir Edward said, “I have told Lord Dacre of your previous services to this country. Once more, James of Eccleston, you will serve your king.”
Once more I would have to leave my men. When I finally detached myself from what was a council of war I rode to our camp. I saw Ralf almost immediately and rode my new horse to the horse lines. I was greeted by cheers and I felt humbled. James and John were both there as were the hobilars. I found myself surrounded by men eager to speak with me.
Ralf shouted, “Away with you and let the captain greet his son and foster son.” There was no malice in his voice.
Ned said, “I will tend to your horse, captain.”
“He is a warhorse, Ned, and his name is Duncan. Until last week he belonged to a Scottish knight.”
