The Last Knight Errant: Sir Edward Woodville & the Age of Chivalry (10 page)

At fourteen they hunt the deer; and catch on hardiness...

At sixteen year to war and to wage, to joust and ride, and castles to assail.23

Some started even younger, such as Anthony’s late brother-in-law, Thomas Scales the younger, who was killed in single combat at the age of 15.

The evidence that makes Edward squire to Anthony is circumstantial: Edward was squire to someone and his brother is the obvious candidate. It seems that they were together on expeditions to Brittany and Portugal when Edward was of squiring age; also Anthony’s later patronage and the will he wrote the night before he was executed (1483) demonstrate how close the relationship was. Edward’s squiring started around 1470 in a period of unpredictable politics, vividly described in the Paston letters as ‘a queasy world’.

Although for the ordinary person England seems to have been a much better place to live than France, Sir John Fortescue, the earliest English constitutional lawyer, was in exile with Queen Margaret in the 1460s and wrote for the instruction of the young Prince Edward (of Lancaster):

You remember, most admirable prince, you have seen how rich in fruits are the villages and towns of the Kingdom of France, whilst you were travelling there, but so burdened by the men-at-arms and their horses of the king that you could be entertained in scarcely any but the great towns. There you learned from the inhabitants that those men...pay absolutely nothing for the expenses...and what is worse they compelled the inhabitants...to supply them...with wines, meats etc...if any declined to do so, they were quickly compelled by cudgelling. Moreover the king does not suffer anyone to eat salt unless he buys it from the king himself at a price fixed by his pleasure....Furthermore all the inhabitants give to the king a fourth part of all wines…

In addition each village maintains at least two archers...equipped to serve the king in his wars etc...in England, no one billets himself in another’s house...in public hostelries where he will pay in full...Nor does anyone take with impunity the goods of another…nor is anyone hindered from providing himself with salt or any goods whatever...The king may take necessaries at reasonable price...Because by those laws he cannot despoil any of his subjects...Nor does the king...impose tallages, subsidies or any other burdens whatever on his subjects, nor change their laws, nor make new ones, without concession or assent of his whole real expressed in his parliament.’ 24

No wonder the Lancastrians were keen to return. It is hardly surprising that plotting and revolution continued. Warwick had been forgiven for his earlier revolt, but despite this he again intrigued and fostered rebellion. This time ‘the king prevailed’, so Warwick and Clarence were obliged to turn tail in mid-April. ‘They fled West to the coast, boarded ships there and went towards Southampton, where they were expecting one of Warwick’s great ships called the Trinity. However, Anthony, Lord Scales was sent there on the King’s order; he fought with the Duke and the Earl and captured their ships with many men on them. So the Duke and the Earl were forced to flee to France.’ 25

Anthony, now Earl Rivers, and Edward must have taken great pleasure in chasing Warwick round Southampton Water and capturing 20 of his followers. The Earl of Worcester, who had been recalled from Ireland, was sent to deal with the prisoners. He tried and convicted them, had them executed and had their heads and trunks impaled on stakes and displayed at Southampton for three weeks as an example to others. It did not endear him to the locals, but Lord Worcester was not a man to court popularity; indeed he was indifferent to public opinion. He was an intellectual, a collector of books and manuscripts, translator of Cicero, Caesar and a novel by Buonaccorso. He had been a successful general, admiral and Treasurer of England, spent three years studying in Italy – 1458–61, which was a sensible time to be away – and visited Jerusalem, all before he was 30. Caxton tells us that ‘he flowered in virtue and cunning’. He was also a friend of Anthony’s who is credited with having Caxton eulogize him ten years later.26

With the crisis far from over and the ringleaders still on the loose, the King proclaimed that whoever captured them would have a reward of land to value of £100 annually or £1,000 in ready money. Warwick, however, had no intention of being caught. As he passed through Wiltshire his men came upon Anthony Woodville and a Lord Audley, who they captured and sent on to Warder Castle for execution. Fortunately a Dorset man came in the night ‘with a good company of hardy fellows...[and] found means to deliver these two lords from captivity’.27 It sounds a very lucky escape.

Meanwhile Warwick had reached France and was joined by his cousin, the Bastard of Fauconberg, who had deserted from the English fleet with several ships. He had captured a number of Burgundian ships, been chased by what was left of the English navy and finally anchored in the Seine in May.

At this stage Anthony, already in charge of the Isle of Wight and Porchester, was appointed governor general of Calais with the commission to organize naval operations in the Channel. He arranged a blockade against the French ports and patrolled aggressively over the next few months. Sailing into the Seine he fought Warwick’s fleet, inflicting casualties and capturing prizes (for return to the Burgundians). The tub-like little ships will have been driven crab-wise by gales roaring up the Channel, buffeted by waves, and the men-at-arms would have to be very sure footed to board a rolling and pitching enemy ship, particularly wearing 50lbs (20kg) of armour.28 To run an operation of this sort required considerable organizational ability and an efficient staff, and young Edward probably served in an aide-de-camp role to Anthony – more useful naval experience.

Sea battles were the business of the very brave, for they usually ended in either victory or death. Even if you avoided being killed by the enemy, the open sea was a dangerous place for a man in armour. Froissart described an earlier engagement which gives a sense of the action. A big enemy ship under full sail was bearing down on the English ship which decided to
joust
. They crashed together and the English ship would have been crushed but for its sturdy construction. They rebounded from the collision but the castles on the mastheads had become entwined. The enemy’s mast shattered, throwing the soldiers from its top castle into the sea. Then the English ship was leaking very badly so they threw hooks and chains, grappled the big enemy ship and fought their way on board where there was ferocious hand-to-hand combat. The English captured the enemy ship and threw its defenders into the sea.29 Martorell in
Tirant Lo Blanc
gives a another vivid description: ‘Both ships heaved boiling pitch at each other and fought without pause until there were so many lances, shields and quarrels floating in the sea that the corpses could not sink.’

While these sea battles raged, Warwick was in Paris with the arch intriguer King Louis, who was delighted to destabilize Edward by orchestrating reconciliation between Warwick and the exiled Lancastrian Queen Margaret. On 9 September 1470 a storm broke the English blockade, enabling Warwick with an invading army to sail for England. Queen Margaret and her son, Prince Edward, who was now engaged to Warwick’s daughter, were shortly to follow. The Lancastrian Earls of Pembroke and Oxford were allied with the previously staunch Yorkist Warwick; it was going to be an uneasy relationship.

There had been sporadic rebellion in the north, and King Edward was there when his enemies landed in the West Country. They declared Henry VI to be King – again. Popular sympathy seems to have veered towards the silver-tongued Warwick and the Lancastrians. The Lords Shrewsbury and Stanley declared for King Henry and there were outbreaks of violence in Kent. King Edward set out from York but detoured to meet Warwick’s brother. The latter, previously loyal, had secretly changed sides, assembled troops and made a night march to surprise and capture the King. Luckily a sergeant of the Royal Minstrels discovered the plan and warned the King, who with a few followers including Gloucester, Hastings and Anthony Woodville (and so probably young Edward) galloped away to the east coast.

On the north shore of The Wash they found small boats and escaped to sea, rode out a storm during the night and reached King’s Lynn on Sunday 30 September 1470.30 Anthony’s home at Middleton is close to Lynn and it seems likely they stayed there until the Tuesday when they were able to arrange fishing boats to sail for Burgundy. King Edward later told Philippe de Commines that he had been quartered in ‘a building that could only be entered by a bridge’. This sounds like Middleton.

The excitement was not over, for Easterling ships31 sighted them and crammed on sail in pursuit. The tide was out, so the little flotilla was chased on to the beaches of Alkmaar in North Holland. The Easterlings beached beside them and were ready to board when Louis de Gruthuyse, the Burgundian governor, fortunately appeared, just in time to warn the Easterlings away.

For three months the evacuees lay low in The Hague. From England came word that Warwick had wheeled the feeble-minded King Henry, in his old blue coat, out of retirement in the Tower.32 However, there were two pieces of good news. Edward’s queen, Elizabeth (Anthony’s and Edward’s sister), had given birth to a son while in sanctuary and there was already friction between Warwick and the Lancastrians. But sadly the brilliant Earl of Worcester had been caught and condemned. The Earl was impassive as he was taken through violent crowds to his execution. On the scaffold an Italian friar reproached him for his past cruelty, to which he replied coldly, ‘I have governed my actions for the good of the State.’ Then he turned to the executioner and asked him to use three strokes to do his work, ‘in honour of the Trinity’. It was later commented: ‘Then did the axe at one blow cut off more learning than was left in the heads of all the surviving nobility.’ 33 His tomb is by the high altar in Ely Cathedral, where he lies between two wives, his face strong and bony.

Over in France, King Louis was enjoying the novelty of having England on his side with his new ally, Warwick, in power and so felt able to renew his war on Burgundy. Duke Charles of Burgundy, later nicknamed Le Téméraire (‘The Bold One’ or perhaps ‘The Rash One’), was alarmed by the turn of events and gave up his supposed neutrality in the English power game.34 In practice Duke Charles had not been neutral: Milanese intelligence noted that he had written to England offering to hand over King Edward but he changed position and ‘almost by compulsion helped King Edward’. Anyway now he lent money – the equivalent of about £4,000 English – to King Edward. It was enough to fund a small force and so invasion planning started.

Royal messengers went out to potential allies and providers, Burgundian and Easterling ships were hired, Flemish gunners recruited and munitions bought. Anthony Woodville and William Hastings had responsibility for commissioning the fleet and equipping the invasion force, and anyone who was part of that team – as young Edward probably was – would have been very busy. Gathering together such a force on a restricted budget is time consuming and difficult work. At one point Anthony was in Bruges, the financial capital of northern Europe, bargaining for more ships and was probably helped by William Caxton, then governor of the English merchants there.35 By March 1471 the invasion army was ready. It consisted of 900 Englishmen and 300 Flemings, armed with ‘handguns’. They sailed from Flushing in four carracks and 14 little ships. Anthony was captain of
La Calanta
, a Spanish carrack hired from an English merchant and carrying 200 soldiers.

The fleet sailed to the Norfolk coast and a scouting party was put ashore at Cromer. They discovered Lancastrian forces in control, so the King decided his chances would be better in Yorkshire, where he would not be expected as he had no links with the county and it was Warwick’s traditional territory. It was a daring plan and must have seemed over-bold when a March storm scattered the ships that night. In the grey dawn of the following day lone ships landed where they could. Anthony was 14 miles from the King, but either by good luck or good planning they all met up at Ravenspur on the Humber and then marched towards York.

However, the city closed its gates and the King had to use his charm to persuade its citizens that he had only come to take up his dukedom of York. You can just see the councillors listening to his plea with scepticism – they knew what he was after and were very uneasy. Nevertheless, after discussion, they allowed him and a few others in, although the army had to camp outside.

This unpropitious start was not improved when the army marched south and word came of two armies between them and London. They dodged one at Tadcaster and slipped into Nottingham to gather recruits. There they heard news of other enemy armies converging on them. It made the invasion seem a forlorn hope and its chances were not rated high by observers.

‘It is a difficult matter to go out by the door and then try to enter by the window. They think he will leave his skin there,’ commented the Milanese ambassador in France. But the King was a far better strategist then his opponents. He marched east. This was a feint that fooled the Earl of Oxford, whose prompt retreat gave Edward the chance to double back and go straight for the Earl of Warwick, who was coming south to meet the others. Warwick, deciding on discretion rather than valour, shut himself up safely inside Coventry to wait for Oxford or Clarence, King Edward’s brother, to join him.

George, Duke of Clarence was marching north with 4,000 men. The King’s little army turned to meet him and at Banbury the two armies came face to face. But the brothers, instead of fighting, threw their arms around each other and King Edward achieved both reconciliation and reinforcements.

This reconciliation was critical to Edward’s success. It was public, dramatic and had been carefully arranged by an unnamed lady who, nine months previously, had landed at Calais where the governor was a trusted lieutenant of Warwick. He was told she had come to comfort the poor Duchess of Clarence who had given birth to a stillborn son on the voyage from England. The governor was suspicious and sent for her. Under interrogation she confessed to being on a secret mission for the King, who was eager to make peace with Warwick. She had documents to prove her story and, as emissary for the King, she was empowered to offer all sorts of attractive concessions. The governor was convinced and sent her on to Paris where Warwick was plotting. However, instead of going to Paris, she rode through hostile France and found Clarence in Normandy. Philippe de Commines says she was young, one of the Duchess’s ladies and ‘neither light headed nor frivolous’. He was very impressed by her adroitness.