Hastings to Culloden - Battles in Britain 1066-1746

by Glen Lyndon Dodds

  Initially, at least, it appears that this clash was between Richard’s northernmost battle—Norfolk’s—and the men under Oxford. The latter may have been caught off balance by the assault launched against them. If so, their courage and discipline prevented the situation degenerating into a rout. Vergil states that they obeyed an order given by Oxford just before battle was joined that ‘no soldier should go more than ten feet from the standards.’ Their resolution seems to have unsettled their adversaries, many of whom Vergil relates were fighting under compulsion anyway, for Norfolk’s men reportedly ‘broke off from fighting for a little while.’ The conflict resumed when Oxford’s ‘tightly grouped units’ went into the attack, as did ‘the others in the other part,’ the wings under Savage and Talbot, ‘pressing together in wedge formation.’ Hence fighting ‘raged between the front lines in both sectors.’ As Rosemary Horrox has commented: ‘The course of the battle of Bosworth is notoriously controversial.’ It does seem, however, from Vergil that the wings under Savage and Talbot had at some point coalesced—they were probably somewhat to the rear of Oxford to begin with. On the other hand, it may well be that the situation was more simple or complex than that portrayed by Vergil.

  What is safe to conclude is this: the pretender’s men gained the upper hand in the struggle and drove their adversaries back, likely in a southeast direction, and perhaps in some disarray. Sooner or later, then, it became apparent that the battle was not going Richard’s way. According to Diego de Valera, a Spaniard in the king’s service called Salazar ‘went up to him and said: “Sire, take steps to put your person in safety, without expecting to have the victory in today’s battle, owing to the manifest treason in your following.”’ Vergil also records that the success of the pretender’s men owed much to the lack of commitment to Richard’s cause of some in the royal army. He states that the king’s companions reportedly ‘seeing from the very outset of the battle that the soldiers were wielding their arms feebly and sluggishly, and that some were secretly deserting, suspected treason, and urged him to fly.’

  However, Richard had no intention of fleeing. De Valera states that he exclaimed: ‘God forbid I yield one step. This day I will die as a king or win.’ Hence, upon determining Henry’s whereabouts, (Tudor had probably moved closer to the fighting in view of his men’s success), he charged against him at the head of those with him. According to Vergil, the angry monarch rode against his adversary ‘from the other side, beyond the battle-line’ (presumably to the north of the fighting), ‘wearing the royal crown, so that he might thereby make either a beginning or an end of his reign.’ The sight of the king and those with him charging against the man who dared to claim the throne must have been awe-inspiring and the event has been described as ‘the swan-song of medieval English chivalry.’

  The moment of truth had arrived. It is reported by Vergil that in the resulting clash—in which it is likely that the pretender’s men were initially driven back to some extent—Richard struck down William Brandon, Henry’s standard-bearer, before coming to blows with the doughty John Cheney, a strong man ‘of surpassing bravery’ whom he nonetheless overcame, knocking him to the ground. All about the embittered and desperate king blows were being exchanged in what was undoubtedly a furious confrontation.

  The situation was dramatically transformed by the arrival of Sir William Stanley who moved to the pretender’s aid. Richard and those with him were thus thrown onto the defensive. Relentlessly their number was reduced as more and more were struck down, leaving their riderless mounts to add to the mayhem. Some of the king’s men turned to flee, but Richard fought on, striking at those closing in for the kill. Eventually, it seems, he was pushed back into the marshy ground mentioned earlier, at which point his horse became immobile. Then, according to Molinet, a Welshman ‘struck him dead with a halberd’ (a weapon combining a spear and a battleaxe) and so Richard ‘ended his days iniquitously and filthily in the dirt and the mire.’

  Meanwhile, in the main encounter Oxford and his associates had by now put to flight their adversaries, and according to Vergil many of the latter were cut down in the rout. Some members of the royal army who had remained aloof from the battle managed to depart unhindered while others stayed on the field and submitted to Tudor following Richard’s death. Vergil states that one such was Northumberland.

  Henry Tudor must have wiped his brow and smiled with relief and satisfaction at the battle’s outcome. Barring a future reverse, his years of exile and despair were over.

  Owing to the rather short duration of the battle—Vergil states that it lasted over two hours, though it may have been an even quicker affair— casualties were evidently not particularly heavy. Indeed, Molinet states that only 300 were slain on either side, whilst Vergil was of the opinion that about a thousand members of the royal army perished in contrast to ‘scarcely a hundred soldiers’ from Tudor’s host.

  Richard’s army undoubtedly suffered the greater losses, though the ratio is unlikely to have been as disproportionate as Vergil comments, and among the men of rank who fell were the Duke of Norfolk, Lord Ferrers of Chartley, Sir Robert Brackenbury, Sir Richard Ratcliffe and Sir Robert Percy. In contrast, William Brandon was the only notable fatality on the winning side.

  Among prominent Ricardians made captive were the Earl of Surrey (Norfolk’s son) and William Catesby. The Earl of Lincoln may likewise have been captured though it is possible he managed to escape from the field, something which Viscount Lovell certainly did.

  Immediately after the battle Henry thanked God for the victory and congratulated his men for their sterling services. Then, after moving to the nearest hill, one of the Stanley brothers, most probably Sir William, placed Richard’s crown on Tudor’s brow amid the acclaim of his supporters. As has been noted, tradition has it that this occurred on Crown Hill near Stoke Golding. The site has been known as Crown Hill since at least 1605 and it is reasonable to believe that it is indeed where this emotionally charged event occurred.

  The outcome of Bosworth is often attributed to the treachery and indifference of many of Richard’s men, individuals who either had little or no love for the king or whose morale had been undermined by rumours that there were traitors in their ranks and by the fact that the Stanleys could not be relied on. This is reasonable.

  Northumberland is often severely censured for his performance, or rather the lack of it, and it may have been the case that he did indeed prove false. It is interesting to note, however, that he was imprisoned following the battle and remained captive until late in the year when he was released under surety. As Anthony Pollard has commented, this does not suggest that Henry regarded Northumberland’s performance as one of ‘masterly inactivity’ and it is reasonable to conclude that the earl’s behaviour was more ambivalent than is often supposed.

  Richard has likewise been censured. His charge against Tudor is said to have been the rash act of a tense and impulsive man. That the king was anxious need not be doubted. However, it is wrong to view the charge as a tactical blunder. It is clear from the sources that it occurred after the battle had turned in Henry’s favour. In such circumstances Richard could either flee or set out to destroy his adversary, something which if achieved would mean that the victory was his. The attempt failed, but Richard’s courage deserves respect. As John Rous wrote some years later, ‘to his credit...he bore himself like a gallant knight and acted with distinction as his own champion until his last breath.’

  The performance of Richard’s army must not be allowed to detract from the achievement of Henry Tudor and his men. They could not be sure that the Stanleys would assist them, but had nonetheless marched against the Plantagenet’s big battalions. Moreover, at Bosworth they fought bravely. Furthermore it is apparent that there was a high degree of discipline in their ranks. Oxford in particular is worthy of commendation. Had the ‘vanguard’ been commanded by a less able man the outcome of the battle may very well have bee
n different.

  Following the battlefield celebrations, the victors began making their way towards Leicester which they entered late on the 22nd. According to the Great Chronicle of London, Henry was ‘received with all honour and gladness’ by the inhabitants, many of whom, as the cavalcade made its way through the streets, would have caught sight of Richard’s naked body slung over a humble steed and ‘all besprung with mire and filth.’ His corpse lay on public display for two days before being unceremoniously buried at the Franciscan Friary in Leicester.

  From Leicester, Henry slowly moved towards London, which he entered in style on 3 September. Some weeks later, on 7 November, soon after a splendid coronation, he presided at the opening of parliament and emphasized that his right to the throne had been vindicated ‘by the true judgement of God.’ Richard’s downfall at Bosworth—the engagement gradually acquired the name of the principal settlement near the battlefield —was believed due to the Almighty and gave Tudor a kind of divine right.

  Shortly after Bosworth, Catesby and two relatively minor royal agents were executed, while a number of other Ricardians were later attainted. On the whole however it is clear that Henry wished to build bridges: reconciliation and widening his power-base were uppermost in his mind. Englishmen of all ranks were tired of discord and hoped that the inexperienced newcomer would return England to an even keel. His marriage to Richard III’s niece, Elizabeth of York, in January 1486 was part of this process and was understandably well received in many quarters.

  Nonetheless, the country had not seen the last of unrest. Several attempts were made to oust Henry. In 1487, for instance, Lovell and Lincoln invaded from Ireland only to be defeated at Stoke. Such attempts made Henry an increasingly suspicious character whose determination to retain the throne and safeguard the future of his dynasty made him arbitrary, avaricious and unloved. Vergil observed, Henry ‘began to treat his people with more harshness and severity than had been his custom in order...to ensure that they remained more thoroughly and entirely in obedience to him.’ Ironically, therefore, many of those who had rejoiced when they heard the news of Richard’s death at Bosworth must have come to believe that the battle had not resulted in a new and lasting political atmosphere, but rather, had led to the replacement of one tyrant by another.

  16

  FLODDEN 9 September 1513

  ‘The Flowers of the Forest are a’ wede away’

  Scottish lament

  9 September 1513 was a cold and miserable day for thousands of men who had assembled to do battle in the vicinity of Branxton in the North East of England, and for a considerable number of them it was to prove a fatal one. Among those present, was James IV of Scotland who had led a formidable army into England on a campaign which was to reach its climax here, a short distance from the border, in one of the bloodiest battles in British history.

  As he gazed towards the English before the commencement of hostilities, James may have reflected on the events that had led him to invade the realm of his brother-in-law, Henry VIII. Indeed, perhaps he even briefly cast his mind further back to the days when Anglo-Scottish relations had been strained in the mid-1490s. Then, when England was ruled by Henry VII, the youthful Scottish king had invaded England in 1496 and 1497, on the first occasion in support of a claimant to the English throne, Perkin Warbeck, from whom he principally hoped to receive the town and castle of Berwick if the campaign were a success—it was not—and on the second occasion to capture the strategically important castle of Norham. Again, the campaign had terminated without success.

  Friendly relations between Scotland and England had been subsequently established (a Treaty of Perpetual Peace was concluded in 1502), and amicable relations continued following Henry’s death in 1509. However, in 1511 one of James’ favourite sea-captains, Andrew Barton, a merchant and privateer, was intercepted by English vessels which had been ordered to deal with him after he had plundered a number of English ships. In a bitter encounter Barton was mortally wounded.

  Barton’s death infuriated James. According to the Treaty of Perpetual Peace—which Henry VIII had himself confirmed in 1509—Henry should have first asked James for redress instead of ordering the Lord Admiral of England to act. Tense relations thus returned and were imperilled even further later in the year when Henry joined a formidable coalition—the Holy League—ranged against Louis XII of France, the monarch of a land with which Scotland had enjoyed friendly relations for generations. Louis needed all the friends he could muster and in 1512 the ‘auld alliance’ between France and Scotland was renewed following certain concessions to James.

  In June of the following year Henry VIII crossed the Channel to wage war in France. James had promised to invade England if Henry moved against Louis and had been preparing for war, preparations which had indeed commenced before the renewal of the auld alliance. Records reveal that since 1507 guns had been manufactured at the castles of Stirling and Edinburgh, and in 1511 the scale of work had increased when a group of French craftsmen set to work at Edinburgh making cannon, gunpowder and other military equipment. Now, following Henry’s invasion, final preparations were made. Moreover, on 25 July a fleet consisting of at least nine vessels sailed down the Firth of Forth from Leith en route to France with the aim of combining with a French fleet (and perhaps Danish vessels) and gaining control of the English Channel, thereby preventing Henry from returning home safely. The following day James sent a herald, Lyon King of Arms, to the English king, who was encamped outside Thérouanne, to inform him that he would advance into England if Henry did not desist from attacking Louis.

  In a reply of 12 August—which James never received—Henry made it clear that he had no intention of halting his campaign. He insulted James, whom he accused of dishonourably wishing to attack England when its king was out of the country. In fact, however, Henry had not left England defenceless. He had appointed the Earl of Surrey Lord Lieutenant of the North with the duty of defending the country in the event of a Scottish invasion.

  The invasion came on, or about, 23 August when James entered England by crossing the Tweed at or near Coldstream with a formidable army which had assembled at Ellem some days before—summonses for the campaign had been issued on 24 July. There was, moreover, an impressive artillery train drawn by 400 oxen. James moved downstream into Norhamshire, an outlying part of the bishopric of Durham, where he besieged Norham Castle, a stronghold belonging to the bishop and situated in a commanding position on the south bank of the Tweed.

  Norham was a formidable and strategic castle which had been the target of generally unsuccessful Scottish aggression—in 1318 they had fruitlessly spent almost a year before its walls—and as noted earlier, it had been attacked by James in 1497, who used artillery against it for the first time. For two weeks he had pounded the walls without success. Now he was back, no doubt more determined to succeed. For some days the assault continued until much of the walling had been destroyed by his guns and on 28 or 29 August the castle surrendered. James then headed south towards another castle, Etal, and captured it before progressing a few miles southeast to Ford Castle which was capitulated to him by Lady Heron.

  And what of Surrey? He had issued orders for a general levy of the northern counties. On 30 August he was at Durham where he heard mass in the splendid cathedral and received the banner of St Cuthbert from the Prior of Durham. St Cuthbert was the North’s premier saint and the banner was venerated in the region by people who believed that its presence would no doubt bring about a victory over the Scots. Others had felt likewise. In the 1290s Edward I had required Durham monks to carry the banner on his expeditions to Scotland, and his successors Edward II and Edward III did likewise in 1307 and in the 1330s. Moreover, the banner featured in the Battle of Neville’s Cross in 1346, and was used again in 1400 when Henry IV invaded Scotland.

  From Durham, Surrey proceeded to Newcastle upon Tyne where the bulk of the forces mustered had asse
mbled. Then, on 3 September, he arrived at Alnwick where he was joined the following day by his eldest son, Thomas Howard, the Lord Admiral, who had sailed from France, bringing about 1,000 men.

  On 4 September Surrey sent a herald, Rouge Croix, to James at Ford stating that he was resolved to do battle with him in view of his invasion. Two days later, in response, a Scottish herald, Islay, made his way to the English army (which was now encamped at Bolton in Glendale, to the west of Alnwick), to inform Surrey that James had accepted the challenge. According to a contemporary tract, The Trewe Encountre by Richard Faques, Surrey replied that he would ‘gyve the sadye Kynge batayle by frydaye next at the furthest.’ Moreover, according to another contemporary source, the Articles of Battle, (which may have been written by the Lord Admiral) James promised to ‘abide’ at Ford ‘till Friday at noon.’

  However, James did not remain at Ford. After burning down the castle he took up a very strong defensive position at Flodden Hill a few miles to the west. Consequently on 7 September, after having advanced to Wooler on the 6th, Surrey wrote indignantly to James stating his surprise that ‘it hath pleased you to chaunge your said promyse and putte your self into a grounde more like a fortresse or a campe...’ Furthermore he suggested that James should behave chivalrously and descend to the plain of Milfield where battle could be joined on neutral ground the following day. According to another source, Hall’s Chronicle, (which dates from c.1540), James replied by stating ‘that it besemed not an earle’ to ‘handle a Kynge’ in such a manner, and that he had no intention of doing as Surrey wished. Surrey and his advisers were thus faced with this question: should they attack James on Flodden Hill or attempt to dislodge him somehow before engaging him as promised? To do the former would be to invite disaster, and so not surprisingly this alternative was rejected.