The Last Knight Errant: Sir Edward Woodville & the Age of Chivalry (24 page)

As part of the French contribution, there were – according to two Scottish sources – Scots companies totalling around 1,000 men. These presumably came with King James’s blessing and were a part of the 18 companies of foot that Bernard Stewart raised when he was in Scotland the year before.42 So 500 exiled Englishmen, 800 professional French soldiers and 1,000 Scots, together with a few Breton adventurers and men from the Normandy gaols, made up the invasion force. (Apparently the criminals had been offered the choice of rotting in prison or fighting in England.)

The Regent had oscillated between strong and weak support as the threats to France increased and decreased until, at last, on 4 May the final commitment was set out in the royal decree that triggered the invasion. According to Molinet, shortly before sailing, a further 1,800 joined, which would bring the force up to a total of around 4,000. Given the size of the French loans this seems unlikely, but given Cordes’s interest it is possible, and those additional men could have come from Pont de l’Arche, which is only just upriver from Honfleur. However, this report is more probably post-event French double-counting, to exaggerate the support they provided. On balance, the probable number that sailed from France in Henry’s army was between 2,000 and 2,500.43

The economics seem to support that figure: conventionally hired foot soldiers would be paid three months in advance, so 2,500 infantrymen would cost around £6,000.44 The leaders and officers would, at the very least, need their expenses but would probably want more, certainly the French and Scottish officers. The expedition would also need a war chest for rations (a budget figure for rations for 2,500 men for three months would be £2,000), munitions over what the French supplied, supplies, intelligence, bonuses and bribes. If the war chest had £4,400 from the French, the £4,000 remaining from Edward’s money and some from Margaret Beaufort, it might total around £10,000, which could be just enough.

‘One could not find a more evil lot,’ remarked Commines, the French contemporary diarist. There were probably 15 ships to ferry them and, while it may not have been an impressive force, it was still bigger than King Edward’s invasion force of 1472. The exiles sharpened their swords and arrow-heads and prepared themselves. King Richard was dismissive: ‘an unknown Welshman, whose father I never knew, nor him personally saw’.45

Henry Tudor with Edward Woodville and the others sailed from Honfleur, at the mouth of the Seine, on 1 August 1485 with a soft southern wind. Coincidentally William Caxton was finishing his first printing of
Le Morte d’Arthur
, the story of King Arthur and his heroic knights which is set with lavish tournaments, jousts, intrigue, beautiful ladies, betrayal and battles to the death. Sir Thomas Malory had written and compiled the book while he was imprisoned ten years before, in the 1470s. Malory’s full title for the book is, ‘The Birth, Life and Acts of king Arthur, of his noble Knights of the Round Table, their marvellous Enquests and Adventures; th’Achieving of the Snagreal, and in the end the dolorous Death and Departing out of the World of them All.’

A week’s sailing brought the fleet to Pembrokeshire on a Sunday afternoon. They waited until dusk and then sailed into Milford Haven, landing at Mill Bay, where Henry, the King aspirant, knelt and prayed using Psalm XLIII (43):

Judge me, O Lord, and defend my cause against the unmerciful people:

Deliver me from the deceitful and wicked man.

For thou art the God of my strength: why hast thou put me away?

Why go I to mourning, when the enemy oppresses me?

Send thy light and thy truth: let them lead me: let them bring me: into thy holy mountain and to thy tabernacle.3

So Edward and his soldiers were back after two years in exile. They and the rest of the army spent the night around the nearby Castle de Vale (now Dale), owned by a Tudor cousin. In the morning Henry knighted some of his companions before marching to the county town of Haverfordwest. The garrison at nearby Pembroke Castle recognized Jasper as its natural lord, but the confidence of the invaders was shaken by rumour of enemy forces at Car marthen.

Scurriers (mounted scouts) were sent to investigate the perceived enemy. They discovered it was a false alarm, so the little army started its march north, through Cardigan and into mid-Wales. Henry Tudor rode under the Dragon banner of Cadwallader, exploiting his Welsh connections by claiming descent from the legendary line of kings. But despite this, the number of Welsh recruits was disappointing – no more that 500 or so.

It took four days for news of the landing to reach the King 200 miles away in Nottingham. He immediately sent out his call to arms. Meanwhile the Tudor army marched on, through the hills towards England, with Henry sending out a stream of letters. He had learned the power of propaganda: ‘that homicide and unnatural tyrant that now bears dominion over you’.

Messengers rode out to likely supporters: ‘Right trusty and well-beloved...we desire and pray you, and upon your allegiance strictly charge and command you...with all such power as ye may make, defensibly arrayed for war...ye fail not hereof as ye will avoid our grievous displeasure and answer unto your peril.’ 4

Worryingly for Henry, many of the ‘Right trusty and well-beloved’ prevaricated. However, some did not and recruits trickled in, then the flow increased, men from South Wales, men from Gwynedd. Rhys ap Thomas arrived with ‘a great band’, then Sir Gilbert Talbot, guardian to the young Earl of Shrewsbury, started assembling a force and by the time he joined Henry at Newport in Shropshire had 500 men, the first serious support from an English magnate. It was a relief because not only had there been a problem of numbers, but also one of presentation, as the majority of Henry’s army was French or Scots, some 2,000 of England’s traditional enemies.5 To balance them there were little more than 1,400 or 1,500 Welsh and English by the time they reached Shrewsbury.6

At Stafford Sir William Stanley appeared for a clandestine meeting. His brother was Lord Stanley, Henry’s stepfather, who was crucial to the invasion’s success but was apparently still loyal to King Richard. It was difficult for him as the King was holding his eldest son hostage.7 Few people knew what was happening or who to support and rumour was rampant.

King Richard quickly mustered some 6,000 men, mainly from the Midlands and East Anglia, while the northerners were still to arrive under the Duke of Northumberland. The royal army marched out of Leicester on Sunday 21 August 1485 and a fine sight they must have been.8 The mounted men-at-arms and archers of the vanguard preceded the King, who was wearing his crown and riding his charger ‘White Surrey’ with his banners above him, one of them featuring the proud male white boar. Following the banners came the mainguard with ranks of peers, knights, men-at-arms and the thousands of foot soldiers.

That night they camped at Bosworth, a village about ten miles west of Leicester. The Scottish ambassador, who had a servant named MacGregor, told a story of the evening before the battle. King Richard was in his tent and sent for his crown. He took the crown and set it upon his head, declaring that he would wear it into battle and win, or die ‘crown it King of England’. But then he was interrupted by a commotion outside the tent. The King and his attendants rushed outside leaving the crown unguarded. MacGregor, the ambassador’s servant, found himself alone in the tent and could not resist the chance to steal the crown. He was caught red-handed. Given the chance to explain himself he gabbled:

‘I had realised early in life that, like my fathers before me, I would be hanged for theft and I resolved that I would not die for just a sheep, or for cattle but for something of great value. It would be a great honour for my kith and kin if I could be hanged for the rich crown of England, for which so many honourable men have lately died; some hanged, some beheaded, some murdered, some killed in battle and for which King Richard had, within the hour, offered to die himself, before his enemy Harry got it off his head.’

At the words of the highland man that could not speak good English but every word was ‘ane mow’ and he spoke so quick causing the English lords to laugh and made them so merry and rejoyst at his speaking that they obtained him grace from the King’s hands...with safe conduct to Scotland.9

This incident may have contributed to the King’s terrible last night when he is supposed to have dreamed ‘of bloody deeds and death’. The morning did not do much to improve morale: ‘At dawn on Monday morning the chaplains of King Richard’s army were not ready to celebrate mass, nor was any breakfast ready which would restore the King’s ailing spirit.’ Furthermore the Duke of Norfolk woke to discover a nasty poem stuck on his tent, according to Hall:

Jack of Norfolk be not so bold,

for Dykon thy master is bought and sold.

However, none of this stopped King Richard making an early start. During the night Sir Simon Digby, one of Henry’s officers, had crept into the royal camp to gather intelligence. He lurked until he saw the army preparing to move and then slipped away at four o’clock to report.

The King was wearing the highly polished suit of armour he had worn at Tewkesbury; he left his tents standing and marched his army to take the high ground before his enemy was on the field. There is no doubt he was a vigorous and able commander. On the hill he rode through the ranks wearing his crown, showing his banners, probably led by a gold processional cross held high by a priest.10 He was trooping his colours. He gave an invigorating speech, telling his soldiers he owed the crown to their wisdom and he had proved a just king. They must fight like lions because the devil was in the heart of an unknown Welshman who was aided by a company of beggarly thieves. Henry of Richmond was a milksop without courage or experience, his men traitors and runagates (vagabonds) and the French were braggers and cowards.

On the opposing side Henry, with his helmet in his hand, rode to a little hill to encourage his army (according to Hutton): ‘If the Almighty had ever assisted a just cause then this was the one and you can be certain of victory. Richard was a murderer and his guilty followers were avaricious villains...though our numbers be few the greater will be our praise if we vanquish and if we fall the more glorious our death.’ (This sounds like Shakespeare’s Henry V before Agincourt.)

The Tudor army was now some 5,000 strong. The majority were in the vanguard under Oxford, which is where Scottish tradition has its contingent. The whereabouts of Edward and his soldiers is not recorded but
The Crowland Chronicle
describes the vanguard as ‘a large body of French and English troops’. Edward’s status as one of the leaders – with his own troops – would put him on foot in the vanguard, commanding that part of the line.

‘The leaders of the opposing army were first and foremost Henry, earl of Richmond, whom his men called King Henry VII; John Vere, Earl of Oxford; John, Lord Welles; Thomas, Lord Stanley and his brother William; Edward Woodville, brother of Queen Elizabeth and a most courageous knight.’ Then follows a list of nine further names without any comment. From this extract it is clear that the
Crowland
chronicler, who may have been Bishop John Russell writing in 1486, recognized Edward as one of the top men in the Tudor army. (The Stanleys were not, in fact, part of the opposing army but given their subsequent behaviour and importance it was the correct place to list them.)

The royal army stood on Ambion Hill watching Oxford’s advance up the old Roman road from Fenny Drayton. There were three other smaller armies: Northumberland with 3,000 northerners hung back to ‘watch Stanley’, or so his messenger told the King. Sir William Stanley with 2,500 men waited half a mile to the right of the royal army and Lord Stanley with 3,500 men waited a mile away to the left. There seems to be agreement between most experts that this was the place and the order of battle, although there are other suggestions. While there is some uncertainty about the actual ground, the main events are undisputed, although their sequence is not.

The Tudor army reached its starting line and then everyone waited to see what would happen. King Richard sent one of his knights to Lord Stanley with the demand for his immediate attendance with his troops, ‘or by God your son shall instantly die’, to which Stanley replied, ‘If the King stains his honour with the blood of my son, I have more, but why should he suffer when I have not lifted a hand against him?’ (Luckily for the young man, he escaped execution.)11

The sun shone, armour gleamed and standards waved as Oxford arranged the vanguard in an extended line to advance through the cornfields.12 Halfway to the enemy he paused the line for his archers to shoot, then they moved on up the hill, through the wicked flights of arrows from the royal army, until the two divisions crashed together.

Ferocious hand-to-hand fighting lasted an hour. Oxford and Norfolk came face to face in the fight. They were first cousins and set to with their swords. First, Norfolk wounded Oxford, who then smashed the visor from Norfolk’s helmet and, disdaining to fight a man unguarded, retreated a few paces. At that point an arrow hit Norfolk in the face and killed him. Oxford later commented, ‘A better knight could not die, though he might in a better cause.’ 13

Norfolk’s son, the Earl of Surrey, was furiously engaged against the veteran Talbot and became separated from his ranks but fought on, even though surrounded. There was an attempted rescue by two knights who were both cut to pieces. An ordinary soldier then tried to take Surrey prisoner but the fighting Earl cut off the man’s arm. Eventually he surrendered to Talbot.