by Charles Ross
Whatever their reluctance to pay for the war, English taxpayers could not complain that the king’s preparations were on a niggardly scale. No pains were spared to ensure that the English army should be the ‘finest, largest, and best appointed force that has ever left England’.2 Arrangements to provide a suitable commissariat and proper naval and artillery support were begun many months before the date of the invasion. As early as 4 December 1474 the king issued a proclamation forbidding the export from the realm of all cereals, beans, peas, sheep, oxen, cattie and mares. During May and June supplies of wheat, beef, mutton, fish, wine and ale were being organized, and shipping and sailors provided to transport them, and even before Easter the treasurer of the household, John Elrington, who now became treasurer of war, had already paid out £2,584 12s 9d for wheat and other provisions.3
The naval preparations, like all other aspects of the war organization, were handled by members of the royal household staff. In December 1474, Avery Cornburgh, a squire of the body, was directed to search out and examine all ships of more than sixteen tons’ burthen in the ports of Bristol and the south-west and to requisition them at his discretion for the king’s use, and he was also empowered to impress crews for them at the king’s wages. Similar commissions were issued to other household men all along the south and east coasts of England. From January onwards a stream of orders went out to shipmasters directing them to find crews and carry out necessary repairs on a number of ships – among them the old king’s ship, the Grace Dieu, built as long ago as 1439–40, and a handful of other royal ships bought since 1471, including the Antony which had brought him back from exile. Others were hired, their names revealing their home-port or their owner, such as the Mary Redcliffe of Bristol, the Margaret Howard, George Howard and Thomas Howard, and the Katherine Rivers. In March the king commissioned the earl of Arundel as constable of Dover and warden of the Cinque Ports to equip and put into service the fifty-seven ships which those ports were traditionally required to supply at their own expense, and to have them before the Downs between Dover and Sandwich by 26 May: the port of Dover found itself paying the wages of the sailors of fourteen ships.1
From quite early in 1475 Edward seems to have had small squadrons on sea-patrol: for example, two Bristol shipowners had five ships at sea in the king’s service from 3 February until 10 July, at a cost of £190.2 The nature of their service is not specified, but it was probably connected with Edward’s evident concern about the activities of English pirates and possible attacks on the shipping of friendly powers; for during these months he was paying out large sums in compensation to Hansards, Bretons and Castilians who had suffered from English piracy.3 It was essential to maintain peaceful conditions in the Narrow Seas whilst the English army was in transit to France. For this purpose a fleet was organized under John, Lord Dinham, with the Grace Dieu as his flagship, and eight more ships and 3,000 men under his command: this force was being mustered on 10 April in the port of London. But all this placed very heavy demands on the English merchant marine, and, in spite of the careful preparations, it was still necessary to obtain transports for the army from Holland and Zeeland through the good offices of the duke of Burgundy on the eve of the expedition’s departure.4
Ashore in England men were everywhere busy with military preparations. In December 1474 proclamations were made throughout the country to ensure an abundant supply of England’s most renowned weapon, essential in an army nine-tenths composed of archers. The craftsmen involved in the making of bows and arrows were each to follow their own particular craft with all possible speed, and commissioners appointed on 8 December were to make purchases of these supplies as they became available: no fewer than 10,000 sheaves of arrows found their way back later to England when the invasion was over.1 The king was especially concerned to equip his army with a sumptuous artillery train, and here also preparations were begun early. On 18 December 1474 the assistants of the controller of the royal ordnance, William Rosse, were directed to impress carpenters, stonecutters, smiths, plumbers and other workmen, and to acquire bombards, cannon, culverins, fowlers, serpentines, powder, sulphur, saltpetre, stone, iron, and lead, longbows, crossbows, pikes, hammers and other necessary equipment. The preparations eventually produced a siege and artillery train which one surprised Italian observer pronounced to be even finer than the duke of Burgundy’s, and much of the work was done under the daily supervision of the king.2 At least thirteen great guns, some with their own names – the Messenger, the Edward, the Fowler of Chester and the Megge, for example – together with chariots for their transport, gins for loading and unloading, 779 stone cannon balls, and quantities of powder, were later shipped to France.3
The army also included a number of specialist craftsmen, who had been commissioned in advance to recruit men of their own trade into the king’s service. Amongst them were arras-makers and tapestry-weavers, armourers, saddlers, goldsmiths, chariotmen and carters for the ordnance, pavilioners for the tents, bowyers and fletchers, ‘miners’ and ‘manyoners’ who formed a pioneer unit to dig trenches and tunnels. Some of these were there to serve the king’s personal comfort – he had ordered the construction of a portable wooden house covered in leather for his use on campaign – but he was also determined not to be outdone in splendour by his brother-in-law of Burgundy. This was an occasion for prestigious display. Over £400 was spent on cloth-of-gold, part of which was made into a robe lined with red satin, probably intended to serve as a coronation garment when he became king of France, and he had already been at pains to find out from the Burgundian master of ceremonies, Olivier de la Marche, the degree of estate kept by Duke Charles at home and on campaign.4
Because of defective exchequer records, the exact size of the army of 1475 cannot be known, but, according to the most recent calculation, it included at least 11,451 combatants, apart from technical personnel, and exclusive of the 2,000 archers sent separately to Brittany.1 This figure bears out Commynes’s claim that it was the largest army with which any English king had ever invaded France.2 His statement that Edward was attended by almost all the English nobility is also borne out by the facts. The army included all five dukes and the solitary marquis (Dorset); of the seven earls, three accompanied the king, two (Essex and Arundel) were members of the council left behind in England, one (Kent) was represented by his son, Anthony Grey, with a sizeable retinue, and only the old and inactive earl of Westmorland had no share in the expedition; and all except three or four of the sixteen barons available for foreign service were also present.3 It has recently been stressed, in support of a claim that the war was not generally popular, that a high proportion of the army was raised and commanded by the ‘court peers’ – kinsmen of the king or those closely connected with the royal service: 11 such peers led 516 men-at-arms and 4,080 archers, with the royal dukes (Clarence with 120 men-at-arms and 1,200 archers, Gloucester with an even larger number) especially prominent.4 By contrast, 12 ‘country’ peers produced only 231 men-at-arms and 1,619 archers. But the presence of virtually the entire nobility of England certainly impressed a contemporary like Commynes and is telling testimony to the strength of Edward’s authority. Only very rarely can so high a proportion of the English peerage have followed their king overseas. Of the non-noble captains, members of the royal household were very conspicuous, some 50 royal officials raising nearly 3,000 men between them, appreciably more than the various bannerets, knights and esquires without close court connections.1
The final muster of the army was originally planned to take place at Portsdown near Portsmouth on 26 May, and orders were sent to all the captains to that effect on 1 February. This rendezvous implied a descent upon Normandy. Very probably because of the singular behaviour of his chief ally, the duke of Burgundy, Edward changed his mind, and some time after 21 April ordered the army to assemble at Barham Downs near Canterbury, a likely place to embark at Dover or Sandwich for a crossing to Calais.2 As the English captains and their retinues converged on Kent, the king bu
sied himself with his final preparations for departure. The prince of Wales had been brought up from Ludlow on 12 May and was made official head of state, with the title of keeper of the realm during Edward’s absence, on 20 June. The actual management of affairs in England was placed in the hands of our great council in England’, headed by Cardinal Bourchier of, Canterbury and Bishop Alcock of Rochester, the latter being appointed temporary chancellor during the absence of Bishop Rotherham with the king in France. About the same time he drew up a last will and testament, following the usual practice of kings and great lords going overseas to war.3 On 30 May he left London by boat for Greenwich and arrived at Canterbury on 7 June, where the army was waiting for him, though the first contingents were already on their way to Calais. In the next three weeks the transhipment of many thousands of men, and even more thousands of horses, proceeded steadily and without interruption from the French. This says a good deal for the efficiency of English naval preparations, but also owed much to the fact that the French, misled by a deceitful message from the count of St Pol, were still expecting a descent upon the coast of Normandy, and their naval forces were still patrolling in that region. Not until late in June, when an English herald fell into his hands, did Louis know for certain that Calais was the objective of the English army.1
The king himself had hoped to be in Calais by 22 June, but was delayed by shortage of cash. Some he needed for the archers going to Brittany under Audley and Duras, some for his personal spending. The Medici bankers lent him £5,000, and the former Florentine agent, Gerard Caniziani, a further 1,000 marks, but attempts to raise further benevolences from Londoners who had not previously contributed met with disappointing results.2 At last on 4 July Edward crossed to Calais, fifteen years after his last visit as an exile in Warwick’s tutelage.
What were Edward IV’s war aims in 1475? Philippe de Commynes – writing after the event – believed that he never intended a serious invasion of France: his love of ease and pleasure made him temperamentally unsuited to the labour involved in a war of conquest.3 Some continental observers shared this view. In August 1474, soon after signing his alliance with Burgundy, Edward sent Falcon Herald to Louis to demand the formal surrender of Normandy and Gascony, and to threaten war if this were refused. According to Christopher Bollati, then Milanese ambassador, his true intention was to suggest a marriage alliance between the dauphin of France and an English princess and he might even join Louis in an attack on Burgundy, but it is far more likely that this was another example of the dual diplomacy characteristic of the age, and was designed merely to lull or distract Louis’s suspicions. This was certainly the sense in which Louis viewed the gesture.4 Even as late as March 1475 an Italian visitor to London, who had first-hand knowledge of English military preparations, including the date of the army’s muster, could still express doubts about whether the English would actually sail for France.5 But more realistic observers on the Continent had no such reservations. Louis XI himself had no doubt about English intentions. Even before the end of 1474 he had embarked on a series of expensive and unpopular defensive measures, which multiplied as news of English mobilization began to reach France, and he was already working hard diplomatically to make things as difficult as possible for the Anglo-Burgundian alliance.6
Louis was right to take Edward seriously. All the lengthy diplomatic, financial and military preparations which have been reviewed strongly suggest that Edward hoped that in combination with the powerful forces of Burgundy he could inflict a substantial defeat upon King Louis. We may perhaps agree with Gommynes that Edward was not the man to contemplate anything like the long, patient war of sieges and piecemeal occupation which had been the basis of Henry V’s strategy in France. But with aid from Burgundy, and other disaffected elements in France, the invaders might hope to force substantial territorial concessions from Louis in the course of a single campaign. The recovery of Normandy and Gascony for the English Crown would have been a substantial achievement, though whether we are justified in regarding this as ‘a defensive reaction to the complications and dangers of the international situation’ seems disputable.1
That Edward regarded the full and active cooperation of Burgundy as an essential feature of his war plans seems beyond serious dispute. But in the months before he crossed to France the strange behaviour of the duke of Burgundy had begun to cause him serious concern. Not content with his existing problems in the east, Charles had involved himself in a struggle for the control of the Rhineland archbishopric of Cologne, and, on 30 July 1474, laid siege to the small but well-fortified city of Neuss. Help for the citizens poured in from neighbouring towns, and the besiegers suffered heavy losses, whilst an active French diplomacy drew into the war against Burgundy the Emperor Frederick III, the young Duke Réné of Lorraine, and, most formidable of all, the Swiss, who defeated a Burgundian army at Héricourt on 13 November. The siege dragged on into the winter months.2
At first Edward seemed unconcerned by his ally’s behaviour, and even allowed a force of English archers (said by Commynes to be 3,000 strong) to serve in the Burgundian army.3 But when, about the end of January, as orders to muster the English army were being sent out, English envoys headed by Dr John Morton returned from Neuss with reports that Duke Charles was still persisting stubbornly in the siege, the English king and council became more anxious. In March Lord Dacre and Edward’s secretary, William Hatcliffe, were sent to Duchess Margaret to seek her good offices with her husband, and, when this failed, Earl Rivers was sent directly to Neuss to remind the duke of his treaty obligations to England. He reached Charles’s camp on 29 April, only a month before the final mobilization of the English army was due; but the duke proved deaf to arguments that the campaigning season was slipping away and threats that Edward might not come at all. Only King Louis’s two-pronged invasion of the duke’s dominions (north into Picardy and the Somme valley, and east into Burgundy proper and Franche-Comté) finally compelled the obstinate Charles to abandon the siege, although he hung on there until 13 June. His funds were exhausted and, it was said, his army was so battered that he did not wish the English to see it. A month later he was back in Flanders to meet his ally, but instead of the splendid army Edward had hoped for he was accompanied by only a small personal retinue.1
The king of France seems to have hoped that his pre-emptive invasion of Picardy and Burgundy’s immobilization at Neuss might deter Edward from crossing to France at all, but this time he was to be disappointed. They did, however, cause Edward to change his plans. Instead of landing in Normandy, as Charles wished him to do, Edward chose Calais, since a safe port for disembarkation of the army was now essential. But the duke’s defaulting on his treaty obligations also brought into question the whole purpose of the campaign. Without effective cooperation from Burgundy, Edward might have preferred not to go at all. This, however, was out of the question. To disband his army tamely after so much public money had been spent would have been extremely unpopular, even politically dangerous, as well as outraging the sentiments of the rank-and-file of his troops.2 English public opinion and his own prestige demanded that he should go. But even before he sailed for Calais Edward and his advisers were probably considering ways and means of extricating themselves from this risky commitment.
Some indication of how they were thinking comes from the proposals put to Garter Herald whom Edward sent to France shortly before the invasion began. The main authority for the confidential aspects of his mission is the testimony of Philippe de Commynes, then a confidential councillor of King Louis, whose narrative of the events of 1475 possesses a quality rare in late medieval historians – the inside knowledge of political decisions at a high level.1 Garter’s official mission was to present Edward’s formal defiance and to demand the surrender of the kingdom of France. But in private audience Louis told Garter that he knew Edward was coming to France under pressure from Burgundy and the commons of England, that the campaigning season was already well advanced, and that he could hope for little
from an impoverished Burgundy or a treacherous St Pol. Should Edward not consider the advantages of a settlement with France? Garter is said to have made the significant admission that his master would be very ready to listen to any French overtures, but only after he had landed in France. Louis should then send envoys, and also make approaches to two men high in Edward’s confidence, John, Lord Howard, who had emerged in recent years as one of Edward’s principal diplomatists, and Thomas, Lord Stanley, then steward of the household. It is unlikely that an envoy of Garter’s status would have said as much without instructions from the king and his close advisers in England. Since there is no good reason to suppose that Commynes invented the story, the episode strongly suggests that Edward’s prime intention on reaching France was to seek a settlement with King Louis, and to end the whole adventure with profit if not with honour.
(iii) The Invasion of France, 1475
The ‘great enterprise of France’ began inauspiciously, with ten days’ loitering in Calais to await the coming of Duke Charles of Burgundy. His arrival with no more than a bodyguard at his back caused consternation in the English army. Some of the lords were for abandoning the invasion forthwith, but many of the rank-and-file, ‘studying glory rather than their own ease’, declared that they could manage perfectly well without Charles’s troops, and that they should carry on with the campaign they had come for.2 However much Edward may have shared his captains’ sentiments, he would have faced an uproar at home if he had given up his venture without ever leaving Calais. As with Henry V after his eventual capture of Harfleur in 1415, some military gesture was necessary to satisfy English public opinion. Probably mainly for this reason, he agreed to the duke’s proposal that the English should advance eastwards through his own territories to Péronne, then into France to the town of St Quentin, which the count of St Pol was still offering to deliver, and thence by way of Laon to Rheims. Charles himself promised to rejoin his army in the east, crush the duke of Lorraine, and meet the English forces in Champagne. The allies were fortunate in that King Louis’s main forces were in Normandy, and, even after he had learnt that the English had landed at Calais, Louis still believed that their principal attack would be directed southwards against Normandy, and took measures accordingly. Charles argued that the French army could cover only Normandy effectively and that St Quentin was the key to Champagne. Once in Rheims Edward might be crowned king of France and would soon win recognition as the country’s legitimate ruler.1
