The Star of Lancaster (45 page)

‘Poor old man,’ said Henry. ‘He will not be sorry to go.’

But he had no time to grieve for his Archbishop. His thoughts were with his army. Henry Chicheley was appointed in Arundel’s place and Henry was pleased with his new Archbishop for he was a man who gave wholehearted support to the prosecution of the war.

Henry, determined to make sure that no important detail should be missed, himself proceeded to Southampton to watch the loading of stores.

The expedition was ready to leave within a few days when a plot was revealed to him. It was the intention of the plotters to take over the country while he was away and set up in his place the Earl of March – whom many people believed to be the true heir to the throne.

One of the servants of Richard Earl of Cambridge was discovered with letters from his master to Lord Henry Scrope of Mersham.

When the King read these letters he was filled not only with rage but with horror because Henry Scrope had been one of his closest companions since his accession to the throne. He had trusted him with missions abroad; only recently he had travelled with Henry Chicheley before the latter had become Archbishop, on a very confidential mission to the Duke of Burgundy.

‘Whom can one trust!’ cried Henry. And to discover such duplicity just as he was about to set out for France was unnerving. Who will betray me next? he wondered. Is it safe to leave my kingdom when those I believed to be my truest friends are in truth my enemies?

This was the shadow which had pursued his father. Always he had feared that someone would try to set up the Earl of March in his place or discover that Richard still lived. He himself would refuse to be haunted by such fears. He would soon add the crown of France to that of England and no one was going to deny his rights.

He could see how Scrope had been drawn into this – Scrope and Cambridge! Scrope had married Cambridge’s stepmother as his second wife; and Cambridge was married to the sister of the Earl of March. Cambridge, himself royal being the second son of Edmund Langley who was a son of Edward the Third, would reckon his son to be in line for the throne. These marriages . . . these royal lines . . . they gave people ideas!

Prompt action was needed to deal with the matter. Conspiracies were always dangerous but one could not have come at a worse time than this.

He sent for Scrope. Good honest Scrope; so he had thought – and all the time a traitor to him!

‘Ah, Henry,’ he said. ‘I am glad you came so promptly.’

‘My lord, I am always at your service.’

‘Except,’ replied the King, ‘when you serve my enemies.’

He was watching his one-time friend closely, hoping to detect in his face a sign of innocence.

But Scrope had flushed scarlet and Henry saw the fear leap into his eyes.

‘Charming letters your friend Cambridge writes to you,’ said Henry.

‘I understand you not, my lord.’

‘Enough, traitor. I have read the correspondence between you two. So you would put March on the throne, eh? But first you must rid yourselves of me. Who was to be the assassin? You, mayhap. You have gained yourself easy access to me with your false protestations of friendship.’

Scrope was silent.

‘Tell me the truth,’ thundered the King, ‘for by God’s own truth I swear I will have it from you.’

‘There is a conspiracy, my lord.’

‘That is already clear to me. And you are involved in it.’

‘For the purpose of discovering when the conspirators meant to strike.’

‘Oh come, Scrope, you will have to do better than that. My kinsman Cambridge, eh? He wants his wife’s brother on the throne. And if he should die, well then Anne of Cambridge has a son who could well take the crown, is that it? Is Cambridge’s plan to set up March and then have another little conspiracy; remove March and set up Cambridge’s boy in his place?’

‘My lord, the plan was to make the Earl of March the King. Though there are some who say that Richard still lives.’

‘Not that old story again!’

‘Few believe it.’ Scrope seemed anxious to talk as though by so doing he could convince the King that he had joined the conspiracy only to betray it in due course.

Henry listened with scornful lips and a sadness in his heart. It hurt him to see Scrope flounder, betraying his fellow traitors in an attempt to save himself.

He called to his guards and cried: ‘Take him away. Keep him your prisoner. If he escapes you will answer to me.’

Scrope was dragged away still protesting his innocence.

His brothers came to him for they had heard that Scrope was arrested. He told them what he had discovered. They were horrified.

‘I shall act promptly,’ said Henry. ‘This is no time for delay. They shall have a trial today and if they are found guilty shall be despatched immediately.’

‘They should be made an example of. The traitor’s death should be accorded them.’

‘I want them out of my way,’ said the King. ‘That will be enough. God is on our side for had this not been discovered now we could have lost our throne.’

The facts were soon brought to light. The plan was to assert the claims of York against those of Lancaster. Henry was to be assassinated and the Earl of March set on the throne. A man had appeared in Scotland calling himself Thomas of Trumpyngton who declared he was in fact King Richard who had escaped from Pontefract. It seemed pretty clear that he was a madman who was not the first to be obsessed by this idea but the conspirators promised to test his claim. Anything which
would help in the fight to rid the country of Henry would be considered. But the main idea was to put the Earl of March on the throne. They planned to conduct the Earl to the Welsh border, where they could be sure of support, and proclaim him King. The Percys could be relied on to hold the north against Henry.

It was indeed a well-laid plot; and, said Henry, there was only one way to act.

He was convinced that his cousin the Earl of March was innocent. He was merely to be used as the figurehead but there was no doubt whatever of the guilt of Cambridge, Scrope and Thomas Grey of Heton.

They were condemned and deprived of their heads without delay.

The conspiracy had been brought to a satisfactory conclusion.

Now for France.

On a hot August day Henry set out for France with six thousand men at arms and twenty-four thousand archers. They travelled in fifteen hundred vessels.

He immediately attacked Harfleur. The town was ill equipped to stand out against him; and the governor in desperation sent messengers to the King of France telling him that unless he sent relief within a month he would have no alternative but to surrender.

No help came and Harfleur, to Henry’s jubilation, fell into English hands.

‘This is a good beginning,’ cried Henry, ‘an omen. I shall fortify this town and make it into another Calais. Then we shall have two ports of entrance to France.’

He set about consolidating his position. He wanted the inhabitants of Harfleur to leave the town to his men and he ordered them to take as much baggage as they could carry after they had sworn on God’s name that they would not take part in the war, and surrender themselves to the governor of Calais.

‘My lord, do you think they will obey that order?’ asked his brother Bedford.

‘It matters little if they do not, brother. I wish to be rid of them and populate this town with English men and women.’

It was a resounding initial success, but alas it was soon seen to be less glorious than had at first been believed for an epidemic of dysentery soon appeared among the soldiers and within a matter of days two thousand of them were dead. That was not all, for if he had not taken some action more would have died. He saw that there was only one course to be taken and that was to send back to England those who were growing too weak to be of use.

Thus it seemed that success was turning to disaster for the army was by this time only half the strength it had been when it set out.

‘We must return to England,’ said Bedford. ‘We must raise more men.’

But Henry shook his head. ‘Return to England with only the capture of Harfleur to our credit! Nay, good brother, that will not do. The people of England have given me their men and their treasure. I will not return without something more than Harfleur to offer them. They would say I was over-timid and no man shall ever have reason to call me that.’

‘Then where next?’

Henry was thoughtful for a while. Then he said: ‘I intend to march through Normandy, Picardy and Artois on my way
to Calais. This is my fair land of France and it is fitting that I should see more of it.’

‘My lord,’ cried Bedford aghast. ‘We have lost so many men and many of those who remain have been weakened by illness. You will have to leave a garrison in Harfleur. How many will you take on this march?’

‘There will be some six thousand.’

‘Six thousand, my lord, against the French army!’

‘It may be that we shall not meet the French army.’

‘They will resent the capture of Harfleur. What if they come against us? And what food shall we be able to commandeer during this march of . . . why it must be some hundred and fifty miles.’

‘All you say may well be true, brother, but I shall not return to England without a victory to present to my people and that victory must be as joyful in their eyes as those of Crécy and Poitiers.’

Bedford shook his head. He thought his brother was courting disaster. But there was no gainsaying the orders of the King and the march began.

They went through Fécamp to Argues, Criel, Eu and St Valéry until they reached the Somme. Now the French were on the march.

It was the twenty-fourth of October and the enemy were encamped in the villages of Ruisseauville and Agincourt.

No lodging could be found for Henry and he slept in a hut. In the morning he released the prisoners he had brought with him, exacting a promise from them that if they were caught up in battle they should return and surrender themselves.

‘If I am defeated,’ he said, ‘then you are released. If not, you will return to me.’

He laughed to himself. How many would obey him? He could not say, but he could not afford to have enemies in his camp. Some might have executed them. It was not Henry’s way. He prided himself on his justice. He was hard but not deliberately cruel.

Now there could be no putting off the battle. The enemies were face to face and the next day must see the start of hostilities.

There was great confidence in the French camp because they so greatly outnumbered the English. The French knew what had happened at Harfleur. The English had won that victory but at what cost. Their army, so the French understood, was decimated by dysentery.

It rained heavily during that long night and as they listened to it rattling on their tents the French were confidently gambling on how many prisoners they would take in the battle and boasting that they would go for those who would bring in the highest ransoms. They were certain of victory. It was not possible, they reasoned, for such a decimated band of men, exhausted by a long march and sickness, to stand up against them. Harry of England was a braggart who boasted of his claim to the throne of France. It would be their pleasure on the following day to teach him a lesson.

Henry, strangely enough, was filled with a quiet confidence. He forbade any to speak of the smallness of his army. The men must not be reminded of it, he told his generals. He must imbue them with this sense of certain victory which he himself felt.

In the quiet of the night he walked about the camp. He talked with his men, without proclaiming his identity. But they knew him; and with the rain glistening on his face and soaking his cloak they were aware of some divine power within him
and they forgot their fears and knew – as well as he did – that he could not fail.

The King heard mass at dawn. Then he was dressed in his cote d’armes on which were the arms of both France and England. On his basinet he wore his crown that all might know who he was when he led his men in battle. He mounted his small grey horse and summoned his men from their quarters and when they were drawn up he addressed them. He told them that their cause was just, that they would succeed with God’s help and God would not deny that help to those whose cause was right. They were going to show the French that no army in the world could stand up against English bowmen. They were going in to win. This spot was called Agincourt and in years to come its name should be celebrated, because it was one which should stand beside that of Crécy and Poitiers.

Such was his conviction and so did he glow with this shining confidence which seemed imbued with a touch of divinity that his men believed him. They ceased to think of the opposing number of Frenchmen who must be fresher and doubtless better equipped than they were. They only knew that they would follow Harry of England to victory.

Henry himself led the main host of the army; the Duke of York was in the vanguard and the rear was commanded by Lord Camoys. Each of the archers carried a billhook, a hatchet and a hammer and a stake sharp at both ends in order to defend himself against a cavalry charge.

The French stood firm as the English advanced, and from the archers came a shower of arrows which wrought fearful havoc among the French forces. The French cavalry attempted to attack but they could not stand up against the streams of arrows and it was brought home to them that the reputation
of the invincibility of English archers was well founded. The horses were unable to advance because as they approached the English held the pointed stakes before them and the French horses, maddened by the wounds they had received from the arrows, ran amok and it was quite impossible for their riders to control them.