The Whitelock affair underlined the importance of coming to some sort of terms with the Scots as swiftly as possible. On the very first day of his reign, Henry had sent King James and Murdoch, earl of Fife, to the Tower of London, where they were to remain in secure custody for the best part of the next two years. On the same day, Henry’s brother John, duke of Bedford, and Ralph Neville, earl of Westmorland, were confirmed in their offices as wardens of the Scottish marches and a programme of reinforcing and repairing the northern border castles was put in place. These aggressive tactics persuaded the governor of Scotland, the duke of Albany, that it was in his best interests to renew the truces between the two countries in the summer of 1413, and in February 1414 the Scots were also included in the general truce between England, France and their allies, which was to last for a year.10
Making a truce and keeping it were two different things. It was virtually impossible to rein in the unruly marcher lords who existed in a constant state of warfare with their neighbours on the other side of the border. The twice-perjured earl of Douglas was the main culprit on the Scottish side, raiding and burning English towns almost at will.11 Henry V realised that the most effective way of preventing this was to restore the defence of the northern marches to their traditional keeper, a Percy earl of Northumberland, so long as the loyalty of that earl was beyond doubt. Given the recent history of the Percy clan, this was a bold initiative and an extremely risky one. There were simply no guarantees that Hotspur’s heir would be any more loyal than his father or grandfather. What is more, the restoration of the Percys was likely to alienate their ancient rivals in the north, the Nevilles, whose loyalty to the Lancastrian kings had been unswerving.
Henry’s solution to these problems was complicated and ingenious. In November 1414 he sanctioned a petition in Parliament that would allow Percy to sue for his restoration to the title and estates of the earldom of Northumberland, which had been forfeited by his grandfather on his conviction for treason. Negotiations were then put in place for Percy to be exchanged for Murdoch, earl of Fife. (Neither Albany nor Henry V had any wish to exchange him for King James, whose return to Scotland would certainly end Albany’s rule as governor and might end the factional struggles that had divided and weakened the realm.) As Murdoch had been captured in war, his release was also dependent on the payment of a ransom, for which Henry demanded ten thousand pounds. This amount was not to be paid by the Scots directly but by Percy, giving the king a financial hold over him which might be perceived as a bond for his good behaviour. Henry also arranged (with Percy’s consent) that Percy should marry Eleanor Despenser, the widowed daughter of Ralph Neville, earl of Westmorland, and Joan Beaufort, Henry’s own half-aunt.12 The marriage was prestigious enough to satisfy Percy’s honour and had the added advantage of compensating the Nevilles. Most important of all, it laid the foundations for a lasting peace between the two rival families, which could only benefit the short- and long-term stability and security of the northern marches.
But for once, Henry’s carefully laid plans miscarried. Murdoch was released from the Tower in May 1415 into the custody of two esquires, who were entrusted with escorting him to the northern borders. As they travelled through Yorkshire, they were attacked by an armed band led by an outlawed Lollard knight from Easington in Craven, Sir Thomas Talbot, and Murdoch was “feloniously abducted.” Almost as unlikely as the abduction itself was its resolution. After spending a week in captivity, Murdoch was miraculously rescued by another Craven esquire, Ralph Pudsey, whom a grateful Henry rewarded with an annuity of twenty-five pounds for life. He was then handed over to the earl of Westmorland for safekeeping but the moment had passed and the delayed exchange did not take place until some nine months later.13
The timing of this whole episode could not have been worse. The failure to hand over Murdoch provoked outrage in Scotland and played straight into the hands of the French, who already had ambassadors in Perth trying to persuade the duke of Albany to attack England. At the moment Henry most needed peace in the northern marches, the Scots were literally on the war path. On 22 July 1415 a large Scottish force crossed the border into Northumberland and after a fiercely fought battle at Yeavering was heavily defeated by Sir Robert Umfraville, the constable of Warkworth Castle. Another force, led by the earl of Douglas, succeeded in penetrating as far as Westmorland and burnt the market town of Penrith before turning back. A retaliatory raid by the English from the western marches targeted and burnt the Scottish town of Dumfries. Only a few days before he set sail for France, Henry dispatched three experienced negotiators to secure a renewal of the truces and ordered all the local militias to be alert and ready to march against the Scots at his brother’s command, “as the king has particular information that those enemies and their adherents are purposing shortly with no small power to invade the realm by divers coasts . . . to do therein what mischief they may.” Nevertheless, he was sufficiently confident about the Scottish situation not to delay his voyage. His judgement was justified, for there was no serious incident during his absence from the realm, and what trouble did occur was confined to the Scottish marches, where local troops contained and dealt with it. But Murdoch and Percy would have to wait for their release until he had finished his business in France.14
Henry V had spent so long planning his expedition in such meticulous detail and had tried to anticipate every eventuality so carefully that the crisis which befell him just before he set sail must have shaken him to the core. On 31 July 1415, the day before a general embarkation was due to take place at Southampton, Edmund Mortimer, the young earl of March, came to the king and confessed that there was a plot afoot to depose Henry and put March himself on the throne. The main conspirator was Richard, earl of Cambridge, the younger brother of Edward, duke of York, and a cousin of the king’s own father. Accused with him was a knight from Northumberland, Sir Thomas Grey of Heton, and a clutch of other northern knights, including Sir Robert Umfraville, Sir John Widdrington, John, Lord Clifford and, most shockingly of all, one of Henry’s trusted advisors, Henry, Lord Scrope. The aim, as Cambridge later confessed, was to take the earl of March to Wales and there proclaim him king. While an uprising was being fostered in Wales with the aid of the fugitive rebel leader Owain Glyn Dw?246-136?r, the Scots were to invade northern England, bringing with them both Henry Percy and the “Mommet,” a Richard II impersonator, who were to be exchanged for Murdoch, earl of Fife. The Scots were to be assisted in their invasion by Umfraville and Widdrington, who had charge of several strategically important border castles and their garrisons, and the return of Percy would persuade the north to rise in rebellion. The rest of England would fall to the combined forces of the conspirators and the Lollards, who would rally once again to their outlawed leader, Sir John Oldcastle. Attacked on all sides, “Harry of Lancaster,” the “usurper of Yngland,” would thus be swept away and replaced by the legitimate heir to the throne.15
It would be easy to dismiss the entire plot as the work of fantasists. Could anyone seriously believe that it might be possible to bring all these disparate elements together to form a cohesive and invincible army? Did anyone really think that the twenty-three-year-old earl of March, whom one of his fellow conspirators contemptuously referred to as nothing “but a hogge,” would make a better king than Henry V? What had the Scots (or, for that matter, Percy and Murdoch) to gain from treating with the rebels rather than the king? The common view among historians appears to be that there was never any chance that Cambridge’s “hare-brained scheme” would come to fruition.16 Nevertheless, unlikely though it may seem, there are several indications to suggest that the web of conspiracy had indeed spread along the lines Cambridge had envisaged.17
The conspiracy—aptly described as “an epilogue to the story of the reign of Henry IV,”18 rather than a reaction to that of Henry V—was in many respects a replay of the Percy rebellions of 1403 and 1405 and a typical medieval aristocratic revolt. Edmund Mortimer had long been a focus for disaffection, simp
ly because of his birth and his standing as the acknowledged heir of Richard II. Grey, Clifford and Scrope were all related to both Cambridge and Percy by marriage, and Scrope was also the nephew of the archbishop of York, whom Henry IV had executed for treason in 1405. Family networks and loyalties clearly played their part in drawing men into the conspiracy, but they cannot explain why they were prepared to risk their lives and fortunes to overthrow the Lancastrian regime that had been in power for sixteen years. Some contemporaries, baffled especially by Scrope’s involvement, believed that they had been corrupted by French gold. This was not impossible, for both Cambridge and Grey were in severe financial difficulties that their expenditure on preparations for the Agincourt expedition could only have compounded. What is more, the French ambassadors were still in England in July and knew of rumours that there might be a rebellion in favour of either the earl of March or the duke of Clarence once Henry V had left the country.19 Supporting such a rebellion—and such rumours—was in France’s interest, even if it only temporarily delayed or diverted Henry from his purpose.
Henry’s reaction on learning of the plot was characteristically swift and ruthless. He at once ordered the arrest of Cambridge, Scrope and Grey, and before night fell all three were imprisoned in the new tower at Southampton Castle and a ten-strong commission, led by John Mowbray, the earl marshal, who was responsible for military discipline, had been appointed to investigate the allegations. Two days later, on 2 August 1415, the three men were indicted for high treason. The principal charge against them, however, went far beyond the treasonable acts of which Cambridge and Grey were undoubtedly guilty. They were accused specifically of having plotted to assassinate the king, his brothers and other subjects of the king in Southampton. Though the death of the king, and perhaps his brothers, might have been inferred from a successful usurpation, their assassination does not appear to have featured in any of the conspirators’ plans, and was probably an invention designed to secure a swift conviction. Cambridge and Grey pleaded guilty, but Scrope demonstrated greater courage and probity. He denied absolutely any involvement in an assassination plot, or indeed any other plot, and claimed that his only crime had been that he knew about the conspiracy but had failed to tell the king.
On the strength of his confession, Grey was condemned to death and beheaded the same day. Both Cambridge and Scrope claimed their legal right to be tried by their peers. This was quickly and easily arranged, for most of the aristocracy were in Southampton, waiting to embark for France. On 5 August twenty peers, including the king’s brothers Clarence, who presided over the court, and Gloucester, gathered in Southampton Castle to pass judgement on the accused men. (Cambridge’s elder brother, the duke of York, should have had a place on the tribunal, but was excused.)
The verdict was a foregone conclusion and unanimous. Cambridge and Scrope were condemned to be drawn, hanged and beheaded. Henry graciously remitted the sentence of hanging and spared Cambridge, as he had Grey, the humiliation of being drawn, or dragged through the public streets to his place of execution.20 Cambridge wrote a grovelling letter after his condemnation, addressed to “Mine most dreadful and sovereign liege Lord,” beseeching the king to spare him. He even had the temerity to borrow his brother-in-law’s excuse, claiming that all the offences he had committed were caused “by the stirring of other folk egging me thereto.” It availed him nothing, and on 5 August Cambridge paid for his treason with his life. Two days later Edmund Mortimer received a royal pardon, on the grounds that the conspirators had taken advantage of his innocence.21
Scrope, however, had to suffer the full rigour of the law. The reason for this is not entirely clear. Henry may not have believed his professions of innocence: if French gold had underwritten the plot, then Scrope, who had played a crucial role in delicate diplomatic missions abroad, was the obvious person to have negotiated a treasonous deal. His disloyalty certainly caused the king the greatest personal pain, and as a Knight of the Garter (the most illustrious order of knights) he also deserved greater punishment for betraying the high standards of his order. Alternatively, the reason may have been that he alone refused to confess to having committed high treason. Concealing treason fell outside the provisions of the Statute of Treasons and was therefore effectively a new category of crime.22
The Cambridge plot could easily have jeopardised the entire Agincourt campaign. Nevertheless, all those involved on the fringes of the plot escaped investigation, punishment or even recrimination. Henry had made his point in his usual way, making an example of the leading figures and giving the benefit of the doubt to the rest, who were thus enabled to redeem themselves on the campaign to come.23
CHAPTER SIX
“HE WHO DESIRES PEACE, LET HIM PREPARE FOR WAR”1
Throughout the entire period of diplomatic negotiations between England, France and her allies, Henry V had been steadily preparing for war. The castles on the northern borders had all been repaired, reinforced and regarrisoned at Henry’s accession. Calais, too, underwent a major programme of rebuilding in anticipation of the role it would inevitably play during an English invasion of France. In 1413 commissioners were appointed to investigate the state of the defences of the town and the other fortresses in the Pas-de-Calais. New orders were issued to ensure that all houses were roofed with slate or tiles, rather than the cheaper thatch of straw or reeds which was so vulnerable to fire, especially during a siege. The king’s carpenter in Calais was ordered to hire men, and by August he had a master-carpenter and thirty-two ordinary carpenters on his books, the latter being paid eight pence a day for their work. At Guînes, the moat and a ditch were cleared of the debris that always accumulated in such places in times of peace, the defences were reinforced and a new watch tower was built.2
The appointment of one of Henry’s most trusted lieutenants, the earl of Warwick, as captain of Calais in 1414 marked a second stage of increased activity. A commission of inquiry was appointed to investigate alleged frauds committed by the four men responsible for supplying Calais with arms, building materials and victuals during the reign of Henry IV. The new supplier immediately applied himself to building up stockpiles of all these necessary items, including massive quantities of Gascon and Portuguese wine, salted beef, pork and herrings, which could all be kept for long periods of time if the town found itself under siege or its supply lines cut.3 On his appointment, the earl had undertaken to ensure that the Calais garrison was manned, in time of war, by 240 men-at-arms and between 274 and 334 archers, at least half of whom, in both categories, were to be mounted. Additionally, he was to have four mounted scouts, forty crossbowmen, thirty-three carpenters, twenty masons, a plumber, a tiler, an artillery specialist and a “purveyor of stuff,” or quartermaster. More troops were also stationed within the town of Calais, though these were not the responsibility of the captain of the castle.4
Similar activity had also been taking place in England, where the coastal defences of towns such as Portsmouth and Southampton were strengthened with new towers. A major programme of rebuilding at Southampton had started in the 1380s, when there was a threat of a repeat of the French raid of 1338, which had destroyed almost half the town. Southampton had then been vulnerable to attack from the sea, because its city walls had been built only on the landward side. As a consequence of such disasters and the growing commercial prosperity of ports and market towns, a change in defence strategy had been required. It was no longer acceptable for the civilian population of a town to have to flee with their families and animals into the safety of a castle when threatened. The new generation of wealthy citizens, merchants and burghers, who had invested heavily in valuable goods and substantial properties, demanded that they too should be protected and that the town itself should be fortified. Thus, by the end of the fourteenth century, Southampton was completely encircled, not just with moats, ditches and embankments, but with stone curtain walls, behind the battlements of which archers could shelter and take fire. Towers defended the key sites and, in response
to the increasing importance of artillery, arrow-slits were converted to take small cannon; one new tower even had a vaulted ceiling so that it had the potential to take the weight of heavier cannon on its roof. (Similar conversions for guns were also undertaken nearby at Portchester Castle, Winchester and Carisbrooke Castle.) That artillery was starting to make a substantial contribution to defence is indicated by the somewhat startling appointment of a chaplain, Thomas Tredington, “to serve the king in his new tower of Southampton, both to celebrate the divine services and to keep the armour, artillery, victuals and guns for its garrison and defence. He is retained for this service expressly because he is an expert in guns and the management of artillery.”5
Recognising the importance of Southampton’s new fortifications because the town was “so near the enemy,” Henry V contributed to them both indirectly and directly. In the December parliament of 1414, he heard a petition from the mayor and burgesses complaining that they could not afford the cost of their new defences and seeking a reduction in the rents they had to pay to the king’s stepmother Joan of Navarre. Acknowledging the justice of their case, Henry offered either to persuade Joan to remit most of the rents or take them into his own hands and reduce them himself if she would not. He also built another new tower, the God’s House Tower, which became the residence of the town gunner and his arsenal; projecting out of the town wall, it was built primarily to protect the sluices beneath it, whose function was to control the water levels in the moats that were the first line of defense.6
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