Spirals of Fate

by Tim Holden

  With Robert’s permission, Steward had drafted in notable clergymen to preach the virtues of peace and order in the city and in the camp. Only Mathew Parker, supposedly one of the most captivating preachers in the land, had stepped beyond his remit by suggesting the ‘rebels’ disband and return home, lest they be punished by God. He’d scurried back to Cambridge, with his tail firmly between his legs, lucky to still be in the clothes he was wearing.

  ‘I know him, Robert.’

  ‘God give me peace, man,’ barked Robert, as William appeared in the room; his expression serious. ‘Brother, the king’s army is here. A mile from the city gates.’

  35

  William Parr’s horse flicked its head to the side, brushing away the fly that circled its eye. Parr twitched his reins.

  ‘Have you been there before?’ he asked Lord Sheffield, mounted to his right.

  From the highest point of the road, a mile outside of Norwich, they could see the cathedral spire, the battlements of the castle keep and the shadowy flint church towers. The city lay still, like a dog basking in the afternoon sun.

  ‘I make it my habit to avoid cities as a rule,’ replied Sheffield.

  What sort of bite would this dog have? Parr wondered as he nodded. His horse swung its head again, narrowly missing Sheffield’s horse. Parr tugged on the reins and clicked his tongue twice. On the road immediately behind them waited his generals: Southwell, Warner, Paston, Cornwallis, Bedingfield, Clere and Walgrave. The column of the army stretched out beyond them like a restless snake. Five hundred mounted cavalry, followed by a thousand men at arms. Amongst them, four hundred Italian mercenaries and a further two hundred Swiss mercenaries. At the rear, teams of horses attached to carts laden with cannon, powder, shot and other supplies.

  Earlier, the herald had been sent ahead demand the surrender of the rebels. While they waited for him to return, Parr’s mind turned to where they could camp for the night. They had been late leaving Thetford that morning as Lord Sheffield’s horse had unhelpfully fallen lame just before they were due to leave. Precious time was wasted while he sought a replacement. Having since marched hard all day, it was now early afternoon.

  To the north the clouds threatened rain.

  The flat terrain of Norfolk rolled into a series of small hills and valleys south of Norwich. Parr preferred to camp on flat ground. It gave better visibility of any approaching forces should Kett attempt to pick at the edges of his camp under cover of darkness.

  It’s what he would do in Kett’s position.

  He considered his options. Parr had been on campaigns before and was no stranger to battle, but this was his long-awaited first command. He was thirty-six years old and now realised how easy the commanders he’d fought under had made it look.

  Now it was his turn in the saddle. The full weight of the decisions facing him and the consequences of each weighed on his mind. His orders were clear: capture Norwich, arrest Kett and his deputies and disperse the rebellion.

  ‘Here he comes,’ said Sheffield, as the galloping horse of the returning herald came into dusty view.

  Parr threw back his shoulders. He wanted to look authoritative in front of his generals, some of whom he knew were sceptical of his unproven abilities.

  Get to the facts, he reminded himself.

  ‘Well, herald, what news have you?’

  In his effeminate voice, the herald simpered, ‘The gates were open.’

  Parr frowned.

  ‘I was greeted by the deputy mayor, Augustine Steward.’

  Parr remembered that name. He was the hawkish fellow who had attended the council meeting in Whitehall. ‘And?’

  ‘I demanded the city’s immediate surrender.’

  ‘Well?’ asked Parr wishing this fellow would get to the point.

  ‘Steward said he wasn’t in a position to grant the surrender, as that must be done by the mayor, who was still in office. However, he was at pains to point out that the city is not hostile to you, your grace.’

  ‘Are you saying that the city is offering no resistance to royal authority?’

  The herald looked uncertain.

  ‘What about Kett?’

  ‘He and his forces are situated on an area of heathland outside the city’s eastern boundary.’

  ‘He doesn’t hold Norwich captive?’

  ‘No, sir, not directly. He does hold the mayor captive and a great many of the aldermen.’

  In all the time Parr had spent thinking about the probabilities he faced, this wasn’t one he’d considered. He’d expected a siege, similar to that in Exeter.

  ‘So, Norwich is undefended?’

  The herald nodded. ‘The gates were open and the walls unmanned, barring a few interested folk straining for a view of your grace’s army.’

  Parr stroked his chin. This must be a trap. It was too easy. He glanced up at the sky, checking the sun’s progress shrouded behind the clouds,

  ‘Go back and fetch this Steward fellow.’

  The herald sighed but, as instructed, once again made his way back to Norwich.

  In the period that followed, Parr reflected on these unexpected events. The cavalry had dispersed to graze their horses. The soldiers formed groups, playing cards, dozing, chatting and joking. Parr ignored the comments he overheard from one of the generals, bemoaning the lack of discipline. To Parrs’s mind, after their late start, the more rested they were, the better. He’d placed scouts and trumpeters half a mile to each flank. However unlikely a surprise attack might be, they would have time to ready themselves.

  The herald and deputy mayor drew to a halt.

  ‘The city of Norwich remains loyal to King Edward and extends the hand of friendship to you all,’ announced Steward.

  Was that a note of sarcasm, he detected. The figure in a dark robe continued, ‘I bring with me the city’s sword of state, as a symbol of our welcome and in hope that you shall deliver us from evil.’

  Parr dismissed his earlier concerns and beckoned over the deputy mayor. From their saddles they shook hands.

  ‘Where’s Mr Kett, and where are the rebels?’

  He went on with his list of questions; why were they staying out of the city, how many of them were there, were they armed, what was the heath like, what surrounded it, and so on.

  For the most part, he found Steward cooperative, occasionally evasive, but above all, Parr was satisfied he was honourable, although his answers provided the young commander with little comfort. Any approach to the rebel camp from the south was rendered impossible, the river protected their southern flank, and there wasn’t a suitable crossing between this road and where the river met the sea at Great Yarmouth over twenty miles to their east. Any attempt to outflank them to the north was risky as they would be forced to cross the river on a narrow bridge at the village of Hellesdon. The village was known to be sympathetic to the rebels, and once word spread of the army's movement in that direction, they would be sitting ducks if the rebels could mobilise their archers to take advantage of the bottleneck. It was the sheer size of the enemy that gave the young commander his biggest headache. Even if the deputy mayor’s reports of fifteen thousand rebels were exaggerated, he was outnumbered ten-to-one. Combined with the rebels terrain advantage, this rendered an attack impossible, even with professional soldiers.

  He would have to defend.

  ‘Let me ask you, Mr Steward, if this heath on which our rebels are camped is impregnable, what is the key to drawing them off their perch?’

  ‘You, sir, are the military man. You will know better than I. The only comment I can make is that after nineteen days, their living conditions are nothing short of squalid. It won’t be long before the rats outnumber the rebels. They have scavenged every living beast within twenty miles. They are now entirely dependent on the city to feed them. It is my understanding that what little funds they had have been exhausted, so they cannot buy fish from the coast or produce from further afield. Indeed, I haven’t heard of a boat entering the city for
over a week, for fear of piracy. They are surviving on the city’s grain reserves. Without our bakeries and breweries, they will starve, so I would suggest you target them,’ he concluded, in a tone that suggested he was happy to wash his hands of any further responsibility.

  Parr nodded. ‘Have all the grain loaded up and sent to me here.’

  Steward frowned in disbelief. ‘I’m not at liberty to take the grain. It is guarded by men loyal to Kett. My throat will be slit if I so much as set foot…’

  Parr grunted.

  ‘This is a trap, Steward…’

  ‘No,’ said Steward, sounding indignant. ‘I make no suggestion; just relay the facts as you seek them, and as I find them to be.’

  Parr could sense his generals’ impatience. He had to make a decision. He didn’t like any of his choices, but he knew he only really had one.

  ‘If I may offer a suggestion, your grace?’ asked Sheffield, who’d kept his counsel quiet until now.

  ‘By all means,’ said Parr.

  ‘The heavens threaten to open. We can’t stay here. A wet and hungry army will not fight well. Let us take Norwich, and show these beasts we mean business.’

  ‘Sheffield, can you not see it’s a trap?’

  ‘Then lets us walk in, and take their bait. Our forces can easily overpower their guard. We’ll burn their granaries to the ground; then we’ve got them.’

  Steward interrupted. ‘If you burn the granaries, the subjects of Norwich will lynch you themselves, and I must say I’d be tempted to help them. You were ordered to save the city, not to condemn it,’ his voice growing louder as he went.

  ‘Enough,’ snapped Parr.

  ‘I apologise,’ said Sheffield. ‘Then we merely capture the grain. Once they know it’s gone then…’

  ‘Will he negotiate?’ asked Parr.

  ‘Kett?’ Steward said. ‘If you ask me, he’s in over his head. He’ll be keen to avoid violence at all costs. The sacrifice of his rebels when they stormed the city was said to take a great toll on him.’

  That was good. Parr knew from the experience of previous campaigns that a cowardly opponent was easy to manipulate. Going into the city was dangerous, but it confirmed what Parr already knew. It was his only choice. If he could secure the food, Kett would be forced to accept his invitation to negotiate. He would snatch this jumped-up tanner as he walked back into his own trap. It wasn’t without risk, but if all went according to plan they could be on their way back to London by tomorrow. Parr tapped his clenched fist against his mouth as he considered his only doubt: Kett must be expecting him to take this course of action. What response would Kett have planned?

  ‘Deputy mayor, we are vulnerable in the city. You will be obliged to feed us, and your subjects must quarter our men in their houses. All being well, we’ll be gone by tomorrow evening.’

  Steward agreed, adding, ‘On condition that the troops conduct themselves by God’s laws. The foreign ones especially.’

  Parr signalled his agreement by reaching for the ceremonial sword, which Steward carried. ‘Then you better lead the way, deputy mayor.’ He turned and spoke to the trumpeter, ‘Sound your horn. We are leaving.’

  *

  A drumbeat pounded from the top of the city’s main gate. St George’s flags flapped in the wind. Rose petals blew past Parr’s head as subjects threw them from the top of the curtain wall. Their heads peered over between the crenulations, some eager to welcome their saviours, others to assess the strength of their enemy. Whatever their allegiances, Norwich’s inhabitants were excited to witness the rare spectacle of a royal army entering their city.

  Parr had an uneasy feeling of being watched as he and his column followed Steward through the vaulted flint archway of the gatehouse.

  Women reached up to give him flowers, and dirty-faced children moved about his horse like cats brushing against their masters’ legs. They jumped up to touch his armour and saddlecloth, their gap-tooth grins and excited questions swirled around him. Behind Parr, his trumpeters sounded the royal tune. The street ahead was wide, plenty big enough for two carts to pass in opposite directions on its pitted and dry surface, lined with three-storey timber frame houses belonging to the merchant class. Amongst fine well-kept houses, were others that bore the hallmarks of decline. Their thatch had turned dark with green mould at the edges, missing wooden roof tiles, windows crudely boarded up, weeds taking root on any flat surface, the colour of the walls faded, the edges of the oak beams creeping inwards as they rotted. The mixed fortunes of the residents were evident in the look of the place, which was once wealthy and had since fallen on harder times. The crowds followed them closely as they made their way to the end of the street, into the marketplace.

  Parr was surprised by its size, equal to any of London’s. Only a few stallholders waited behind their wooden carts hoping to cash in on the arrival of the army. A gathering of strumpets in their striped hoods were gathered around the market cross.

  Steward barked at them to be gone and threatened to have the constable arrest their husbands.

  Parr turned to his general. ‘Pass on the order, form the army into ranks across the marketplace, let us parade our strength for all to see. We will meet at the top there,’ pointing to the large flint building in the corner of the sloping marketplace, ‘to receive your orders.’ Sheffield and Cornwallis nodded and relayed the instructions back to the others. ‘Steward, you stay with me,’ said Parr.

  Half an hour later the church bells rang four of the clock. Parr’s generals formed around him and Steward in a half circle outside the guildhall. The rain that threated had not darkened the earth of the streets.

  Behind the generals amassed the fifteen hundred troops standing in straight lines that neatly filled the marketplace. From the wooden buildings, local faces could be seen looking on in awe from every window. In the streets that led to the marketplace, people stood nervously peering out at the army, waiting to see what they would do.

  Parr cleared his throat. ‘Men,’ he turned his attention to the battle-hardened men of all shapes and sizes that comprised his generals, ‘listen carefully, we have only five hours to prepare ourselves before darkness. We must be ready for an attack. Our plan is to draw Kett in to negotiate.’ They listened intently, motionless. ‘To do this, ‘he continued, ‘we must capture the granaries. Paston, that’s your job.’

  The old man nodded, without issue.

  Turning his attentions to the deputy mayor, he continued, ‘Mr Steward. You will impose a curfew. I don’t want anybody on these streets other than my men after seven o’clock. No beggars, no vagrants, none of your constables. Anyone other than my men found on the streets will be treated as a rebel and dealt with accordingly.’

  ‘The authority to do that rests with Mayor Codd.’

  Parr brought his hand to rest on the hilt of his sword. His scowl made it clear he would not tolerate the protocol of petty politics.

  ‘Very well,’ acquiesced Steward. ‘I’ll have the criers posted, and the bells sounded.’

  Parr continued, beginning to feel at ease. ‘We don’t have enough men to adequately hold the entire city, so we will concentrate our strength on defending the heart of the city here. Steward, please point out the main approaches to the generals.’

  Steward nodded and cleared his throat as he thought for a moment. ‘I would expect the rebels to approach the city in the most direct fashion, as they did last time. If you look beyond the castle keep over there, you will see for yourselves the heathland that forms their stronghold.’ Steward waited for the generals to return their attention to him. ‘To prevent them entering the heart of the city there are five streets which you will need to control. One is north of the river leading from the Pockthorpe Gate to the bridge at Whitefriars. However, they are most likely to approach on Bishopsgate, so I would counsel you to form the bulk of your defences in that area beyond the cathedral. The cathedral is walled, which will force their movement around it. If they move south, around it, you can pin them
down in the streets between the cathedral and the castle. One further blockade beyond the castle should be enough.’

  ‘Good, thank you, Steward,’ Parr turned to his generals. ‘That's five streets. You will each be responsible for establishing and defending a blockade across one of those streets. We’ll split the cannon, one for each street. With buildings on each side and narrow streets you’ll knock the rebels over like skittles, and they won't be able to capitalise on the supremacy of their manpower.’

  His men nodded.

  ‘What if the rebels attack us from above, from the windows and rooftops?’ asked Clere, who was always quick to question rather than think for himself.

  ‘Place gunners in the windows first,’ snapped Parr, making it clear he wanted no further interruptions. ‘You will each be responsible for holding the rebels at bay from your blockade. If you fail, the king shall hear of your incompetence.’

  Parr looked around the faces of his generals, making sure to meet eyes with each of them. ‘When, we hold off any rebel attacks, Kett will have no choice but to negotiate from a position of weakness.’ A prospect, which Parr could feel himself already looking forward to.

  ‘It is a full moon tonight, which is to our advantage. I will appoint you each a trumpeter. Sound the alarm if you fall under attack. I will hold reinforcements here and send them to those of you under attack.’

  Parr looked to the most elderly of his generals, Sir William. ‘Walgrave, it shall be your job to build a bonfire in each corner of the marketplace. I want it to be as bright as day.’

  Walgrave nodded.

  Steward cleared his throat. ‘Given the thatch,’ he said indicating some of the surrounding rooftops, ‘would it be safer to construct one larger fire in the middle of the marketplace?’

  Parr ignored the deputy mayor. ‘What he’s saying, Walgrave, is don’t set fire to the city.’ A murmur of amusement trickled through the circle of men.

  ‘But, sir,’ protest Steward.

  ‘But nothing,’ interrupted Parr pointing at Steward. ‘For your own safety, the law requires you to build with wooden roof tiles in a city. If your city has ignored the law, don’t later expect its protection.’