Warwick: The Man Behind The Wars of the Roses
Page 9
‘I like to think I know what’s going on yet you surprise me Thomas.’
Thomas looked pleased with himself, for a moment reminding Richard of the little boy he once knew. ‘We were expecting trouble from the Percy family, ever since we heard they had formed an alliance with Henry Holland, Duke of Exeter.’
‘I never liked him. Holland gained more power than he deserved when he took over from his father as Constable of the Tower of London.’
Thomas nodded. ‘You know our uncle nearly caught them all when they tried to take control of York.’
Richard remembered. Their uncle had been furious and sent an army to arrest Holland and the Percy conspirators. Exeter had evaded him and sought sanctuary in Westminster Abbey. York had him forcibly removed. ‘If it had been up to me, Holland would have been executed for treason. Unfortunately, he is married to our uncle’s daughter, Anne.’
‘We were lucky. One of your spies in the Percy household came to Middleham one night and warned father of a plan to attack our house at Stamford Bridge. Thomas and Richard Percy had gathered about two hundred men.’ His brother looked pleased with himself. ‘We were ready for them.’
‘What happened?’
‘When they saw us most of their men ran for their lives. Father arrested the Percy brothers and we marched them back to Middleham Castle. They were tried in the York courthouse and fined eleven thousand two hundred pounds.’
Richard laughed. ‘Father’s revenge! They’ll never pay, of course?’
Thomas shook his head. ‘That’s why they’re in the debtor’s prison. It’s not a pleasant place. It’s what they deserve. At least we won’t have to keep looking over our shoulders, wondering what they’re getting up to next.’
Chapter 9 - Spring 1455
None of them expected the king to recover his health so soon. Word of his sudden restoration spread like fire through a field of dry straw and almost overnight there had been a complete reversal of fortune. Queen Margaret was systematically undoing all their work. First she ordered the release of the dukes of Somerset and Exeter from their imprisonment. Then the court faction began plotting their revenge on York and his supporters.
Richard realised he would have to act swiftly to escape the retribution of his enemy Edmund Beaufort. Riders went out from Warwick Castle to summon his retainers from every part of Richard’s lands. Reports of looting and unrest were reaching him from London. Although hundreds of well-armed men were soon guarding his family, Richard wondered if even that many would be enough if the people turned against him.
A messenger arrived from his father, who had returned to the relative safety of Middleham Castle. His uncle was rallying an army at Sandal Castle at Wakefield in West Yorkshire. He planned to meet them both with as many men as he could as they made their way down to London. There was no word of his brothers, although he guessed they were more capable now of looking after themselves.
Anne was waiting with the girls to wish him well on the day of his departure.
Isabel ran up to him. ‘Au revoir, Papa.’
‘Au revoir, ma fille.’ She squealed in delight as he picked her up and held her high. ‘So you speak to me in French now?’
Anne looked proud. ‘I’ve been teaching them both a little.’ She glanced at Margaret waiting patiently to say goodbye to her father. ‘It will be useful for them when we go to Calais.’
Richard smiled at her. She had been incredibly understanding about Margaret. His mother had been right. He’d felt relief to have his secret out in the open. It helped that Margaret had turned into such a likeable girl. She was seven now and able to be quite a help to Anne with little Isabel.
‘You seem to have forgotten. Somerset has been put back in charge of Calais.’
She returned his smile. ‘I’m sure you’ll find a way to deal with Somerset.’
He gently lowered his daughter to the ground and took his wife in his arms. Feeling the warmth and softness of her body through the thin silk dress she had chosen to see him off.
She held him tightly. ‘I don’t want to let you go.’
‘You know I have to do this.’
Anne’s eyes glistened with tears. ‘There will be no going back if you have to fight the king.’
‘No. I hope it doesn’t come to that. We’ll be ready if we have to.’ He looked at her, then down at Isabel. ‘I’m glad we chose this castle where you grew up as our home. It is a fortress and I have stationed more than enough men to ensure your safety.’
She tried to smile at him. ‘Take care, Richard.’
He took one last look at them both and turned to go.
Anne called after him. ‘Come back safely to us!’
‘I will. I promise.’
Richard met with his father and uncle in dramatically changed circumstances. Dismissed from their important posts, they were replaced by their enemies, all favourites of the queen. They had also not been invited to a special council of peers in the Lancastrian town of Leicester, arranged to discuss providing for the safety of the king's person against his enemies. Richard, his uncle and father had instead been summoned to appear before the council at the end of May. They knew what it would mean. The stakes couldn’t be higher.
They lodged for the night at the house of a loyal York supporter in Royston, a Hertfordshire market town north of London. Richard had ridden with over a thousand men marching behind him and many times that number were standing armed and ready for his call. He felt no need to act like a fugitive in his own country. Although he knew he would be easily recognised he didn’t care, preferring to show his strength.
The Duke of York was pleased to see him, despite his anger at the sudden turn of events. ‘One more year. That’s all we needed!’ He paced restlessly around the room as he spoke, the lines on his face seeming to grow even deeper. ‘Now they summon us! To be locked up for putting the country to rights?’
His father’s mood was also dour. ‘We should have dealt with Somerset when we had the chance.’ He made a chopping sign with his hand. ‘Cut off the head of the snake!’
Richard disagreed. ‘You did the right thing, Father. If we had executed him the queen would be having us arrested right now. We followed the letter of the law. Let’s hope they do the same.’
His uncle stood and crossed to peer out of the leaded glass window, as if he half expected to see the king’s guard coming to arrest them. ‘I am not going to give Somerset the satisfaction of seeing me locked up, in the Tower or anywhere else. The bastard got the better of me in France and I’ve sworn he’ll never do it again.’
Richard remained silent for a moment, thinking his position was much the same. The time had come to discuss a solution to their problems. ‘We aren’t the only ones who want to see Somerset pay for what he did in France. It will be fairly easy to get the people on our side.’
His uncle looked thoughtful. ‘Yes. We need to hold our nerve. I think this is a time to prove how loyal we are to our King Henry.’
Richard understood his uncle’s plan. ‘We could all sign a letter that leaves no scope or opportunity to charge us with treason.’
‘No!’ His father was still angry.
Richard calmed him. ‘That’s what will make this plan work, Father. It’s a way of showing our respect for the king and appointments in his name. We’ll have to set aside our personal feelings for now.’
They agreed and the owner of the house was summoned to bring a quill, ink and parchment, as well as sealing wax. Richard wrote the letters while his uncle dictated and they all signed, then he carefully made a copy of both and they sealed them all with the York falcon and fetterlock. Confirming their absolute loyalty, the letters asked the king not to believe the false allegations made by their enemies and demanded the Duke of Somerset to be placed in their custody to face a commission of his peers and answer for his misdeeds.
A messenger was dispatched to London with the letters and their host provided a meal of hot roast beef with fine wine from Bordeaux, which
happened to be his uncle Richard’s favourite. The wine and their plan went some small way to restoring his mood, although Richard found himself wondering what the future held for the three of them.
He woke the next day to a perfect spring morning and found his father and uncle already preparing to ride to meet the king, who would be making his way north to Leicester. They expected he would be travelling with a sizeable guard, so should be easy enough to find. Richard took charge of mustering the men and counted over seven thousand, including a dozen heavy bronze cannons of his uncle’s artillery and his own army of longbow men. He knew they would be needed before long.
Richard studied the hastily prepared barricades blocking the roads into the town of St. Albans. His uncle had taken the precaution of sending scouts ahead of them to provide some advance warning of the king’s position. They had returned with troubling news. He guessed the choice of barricading themselves into the town had been the Duke of Somerset’s idea, revealing his lack of military skill. The town lacked any defensive walls and the narrow streets would limit the number of men he could use to man his barricades.
They set up a temporary camp outside the town and waited, confident that their presence had been observed. More men were expected to arrive later in the day and there was still time for the king to respond to the letter confirming their loyalty. They were not prepared to wait at the barricaded gate like a servant and they had no wish to start any fighting. Better to see what the king’s advisors would have him do next.
Richard’s father was the first to spot the small delegation heading towards their camp from the town. They had sent several messengers to explain their terms, although none had been allowed past the barriers, so there was little hope that any messages had reached the king. Now at last there were two riders, one carrying a flag of truce. They knew the other would be one of the king’s main supporters.
His father squinted into the spring sunshine, his eyesight still sharp for his age. ‘I’d say that’s my brother-in-law, sent to find out what we’re planning.’
Richard knew Humphrey Stafford, Duke of Buckingham, and his father went back a long way, both serving under King Henry V in France. They had since had their differences, although his father had always been civil to Buckingham for his sister Anne’s sake. He looked at his uncle, who scowled at the thought of having to negotiate with the man and realised the duke was a poor choice of intermediary. It had been within Stafford’s power to support their case against Edmund Beaufort and help to win over the queen. Instead he had decided to side with the court faction and had since been openly critical of York’s efforts to bring the country back into some order.
Buckingham was clearly unhappy with his task when he arrived. He dismounted from his horse and eyed the three of them cautiously, his voice faltering as he spoke. ‘The king demands to know why you are arrayed against him.’
They regarded him in silence, then Richard’s uncle replied, his deep voice booming in the still air. ‘Tell the king we are his loyal liege men. All we ask is to be involved in the government of the country. We also request the king to deliver certain men into our custody, so they can have a proper trial.’
Buckingham looked surprised. It seemed this was not the answer he expected and he didn’t know how to respond. ‘Who would you have stand trial?’
Richard’s uncle answered for them. ‘The Duke of Somerset for one.’
Buckingham remained silent and scowled as he understood. He had always been loyal to the king, yet his silence suggested he wasn’t a supporter of the troublesome duke, who many were now blaming for the loss of their lands in Normandy.
Richard stepped forward. ‘Has the king received our letter stating our loyalty to him?’
Buckingham looked unsure. ‘I’ve heard no mention of it.’
His father spoke next. ‘In that case, Humphrey, will you take our answer to the king?’
Buckingham stepped towards his horse and climbed back the saddle. He shouted back to them. ‘I think you know the king could not agree to hand over Somerset. It would be best for us all if you disperse so that the king can proceed to Leicester.’
Richard’s father started to become angry at the duke’s tone. ‘I think it would be best for you to ride back to the king and return as soon as you can with his answer.’
Buckingham spurred his horse and sped back to the town, followed by his flag bearer. Richard was concerned the king’s forces were also waiting for reinforcements to arrive. They had decided to wait for the arrival of John Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, who was bringing more than enough men for them to have the advantage of numbers. St. Albans was a small town and Richard guessed there could hardly be more than three or four thousand men in the king’s escort. It would take many more to surround the place on all sides.
Richard squinted up at the sun. He guessed noon was approaching and he felt hungry. He went back to join Tully, who he’d posted to keep watch on the town. A dog barked somewhere and the sun glinted on polished metal as one of the men at the barricade moved. Otherwise the town of St. Albans seemed deserted.
‘I wonder where they all are?’
Tully looked at him. ‘Who, my lord?’
‘The people. There are hundreds of people in St. Albans.’
‘I expect the king’s men have ordered a curfew for their own safety.’
Richard frowned. ‘I still would have expected to see more activity.’
‘Well I’ve been watching for a while now.’ He shaded his eyes and peered at the nearest of the barricades. ‘All I’ve seen is a traveller heading towards the town on the London road.’
Richard looked round. ‘Where is he now?’
Tully pointed back down the road. ‘He went to the barricade. They must have turned him away.’
‘Let me know if you see anyone else.’
Tully seemed puzzled. ‘Do you think they are taking their time, waiting for reinforcements to arrive?’
‘That’s what worries me. As far as we know the king was travelling with knights of the council and their bodyguards.’
Tully sounded thoughtful. ‘There must be people still going about their business. Innkeepers and the like. The king’s men would hardly take any notice of an unarmed man walking down the street.’
‘You mean we could get someone into the town? See what they’re up to?’
‘I could give it a try.’
Richard was surprised. ‘You?’
‘Who else? I used to be a poacher, remember, my lord? Better than waiting around here.’
Richard shook his head. ‘I know you’d do it, Tully. I need you to watch my back if we go in fighting.’
‘I have a man who will try for us, my lord.’
‘Good. Tell him to take the long way around. I’d like to know if there is an unguarded way into the town.’
An hour later Tully called him to say Buckingham was returning. This time he remained on his horse and shouted to them from a safe distance. ‘The king wishes you to know he will give up no man and any that oppose him will die as traitors.’ He seemed to enjoy the disappointment he could see on their faces. ‘The king says he will destroy all who rise against him. He has ordered that every mother’s son will be hung, drawn and quartered as an example to those who would think to be disloyal to the crown.’
He seemed more confident, almost arrogant now he was sure of the king’s position.
Richard’s father walked up to his former friend. ‘Are you sure those are his words?’
Buckingham nodded. ‘I spoke to him myself and told him your demands.’ He shook his head. ‘I am sorry it has come to this, Richard.’
‘So am I, Humphrey.’
They watched as the two horses rode back to the barricaded entrance and disappeared from sight.
Richard’s uncle turned to them. ‘We’ll wait no longer.’ He turned to Richard’s father. ‘You and I will lead the main force, taking one barricade each.’ He looked at Richard. ‘You are to be ready in reserve.’
‘It seems we have two choices, Tully. To leave and wait to be tried for treason, or to fight and be condemned as traitors to the king.’
Tully understood. ‘So fight it is then.’
‘We’ve drawn the short straw, I’m afraid. Held back as the reserve. I must admit I hoped it wouldn’t even come to a fight.’
Tully helped Richard check the straps on his armour, the latest from Burgundy, lighter than any Richard had worn before and more flexible. He strapped on his sword and dagger and tried drawing both to make sure the straps weren’t fastened too tightly. Tully wore a steel sallet, his heavy mail and a breastplate under his livery emblazoned with the Warwick bear and ragged staff. He slung his crossbow over his shoulder and strapped a full quiver of bolts to his belt, as well as his sword and dagger.
The ancient ditch around the town of St. Albans had been dug over a hundred years before and proved useless as a protection against the charge. A few of those at the front fell to arrows fired from behind the barricades. The rest scrambled over them. The narrow streets made it hard to advance in numbers, so they soon turned into a press of men and engaged in a clash of brutal fighting, stabbing and hacking at close quarters.
His own soldiers had been reinforced by the arrival of his old companion from his days on the Scottish border, the former Sheriff of Northumberland, Sir Robert Ogle. He had brought six hundred well trained men-at-arms from the Welsh Marches in support of their cause. Together with his archers, Tully’s crossbowmen, his personal guard and over a thousand foot soldiers in full harness armed with swords and halberds, he felt confident they could give a good account of themselves when called to fight.
Tully’s scout finally returned with the news he had found an undefended entrance into the town.