Flodden, p.7
Flodden, page 7
He raised his goblet to me. I acknowledged it and asked, as innocently as I could, “And the horses, my lord?”
“Horses?”
“Aye, the horses you gave us. Do you wish them returned?”
He laughed, “Of course not. Call it payment for services rendered.”
I was pleased for it meant I could now train more hobilars. If either John or my son James did not have the body for a billman then they could become hobilars. The rescue had shown me the value of such warriors.”
The old Mary de Clifton resurfaced that night for we dined with Sir Edward, his nobles and their wives and she beamed at the splendour of the castle. However, when she saw the attention that I was given I think she realised that I was more important than she had first thought.
The next day we headed back to Clifton. The ladies lived closer to the coast at Freckleton and Richard promised that he would see them home. They would spend the night with him in his home. The sight of the burnt-out buildings proved too much for Mary, who broke down and wept. I sent the wagon to the village while we retrieved Roger’s treasure. It would not do to risk the chance of thieves discovering it.
The goodbyes of the ladies were tearful. Roger grew impatient with the four of them, “Come wife, we have many miles to go and I am anxious to see our daughter and the grandbairns. Remember, she knows not if her husband lives or died trying to rescue us.”
We headed back across the Ribble and took the road to Ecclestone. It was getting on for dark when we neared Parr and I sent Ned to warn my wife that we were returning. It meant that the whole village turned out to greet us. The men I had led all lived within two miles of Ecclestone and none knew if any of my hobilars had been hurt. The joy when they spied that we were whole was unbounded. If any did notice that Ralf was not riding that was to be understood. He had no family. Understandably Jane gave her whole attention to her parents as did my daughters. My two sons, however, looked for Ralf.
“Father, where is Ralf? He was not…”
I heard the catch in James’ voice as did Ralf who pulled himself from the bottom of the wagon, “No, James, I was not killed but I owe my life to your father.”
Riding in the wagon had made the journey home easier for Ralf but getting in and out was harder. He shuffled to the rear where Ned and Edward, after opening it, helped him to the ground. We had fashioned two crutches and he put them under his arms.
It was then that Jane saw him, “Husband, why do you not help poor Ralf.”
Ralf grinned, “I can manage, my lady, but I fear that I will not be racing through the hall for a while.”
She shook her head and spoke to my assembled hobilars, “And we are all outside getting cold. I thank you men for rescuing my parents. I am in your debt and if you ever need aught, I beg you just to ask.”
They all gave a slight bow and Edgar said, “My lady, it was an honour and we would do so again.” He turned to me, “Practice on Sunday, Captain James?”
It was my turn to grin, “Of course, you have much to show the other men of the levy,” I waved over John, “And wife, we have another guest.”
She saw John for the first time and her face lit up, “Why John, you are most welcome.”
I caught Jane’s eye, “John has no one in the world and asked to stay with us.”
She hugged him and said, “Of course. For tonight I will make you a bed with James and Walter. Tomorrow I shall rearrange the sleeping arrangements. You are all more than welcome.” Despite the extra work their presence created, I knew that Jane meant every word. She was the kindest soul I had ever known and I knew I had been lucky to find her.
We went inside as Ned and the others took the horses from the wagon and stabled ours. They were all horsemen and the care of our animals came above all else. The extra horses meant we would have to build new stables.
James placed a chair by the fire for Ralf while Walter hurried off to find us some ale. She took her parents up the stairs to the bedchamber we had always kept for guests. The only ones who had used it had been Jane’s parents and now it would be theirs for the foreseeable future. Clifton would take a year or more to be rebuilt and the work could not begin until the spring at the earliest. As they headed up the stairs I heard Mary moan, “And I have worn these clothes since I was taken. All my fine dresses were destroyed.” I did not hear Jane’s reply but knew that my practical wife would find more clothes for her mother.
As Ralf and I sat with my sons by the fire Ralf said, “Captain, you know wounds better than I. Will this make me a cripple?”
I shook my head, “It was a clean wound and the healer at Carlisle found no hidden injury when he sewed it. The wound has not been hot to the touch, has it?” He shook his head. “Then when we remove the stitches, you can begin to walk about. The more you walk the quicker you will heal.” The healer had said to leave the stitches in for a fortnight. The nearest doctor to Ecclestone was at Windle and it would be me who removed them. I had done so before. We were self-reliant in the village. The women of Ecclestone were the midwives and could handle minor ailments and injuries. I was the one who knew how to tend to war injuries. My father had been the same.
The table, when we ate, was full. John was seated between James and Ralf and I knew that my son would make the daunting experience easy for the son of the bailiff. The meal we ate was simple but when we said Grace before we ate the words had more meaning. We all knew that God had aided us. We could not have done what we had without his help. Jane sat between her parents and fussed over them but each time she looked across at me and caught my eye I saw the gratitude in hers. We all retired early. These were the first stairs that Ralf had encountered since his wound and it took James, John and me to help him to his chamber. James and Walter along with John, helped him, despite the protestations of the man at arms, to bed. It showed me how close my boys were to Ralf.
I waited, alone in our bed until Jane had ensured that all our guests were comfortable. She undressed and snuggled next to me. She looked up and, putting her hand behind my head, pulled it down to give me a long and passionate kiss, “I always knew that I had the best of husbands but what you did for my parents went above and beyond what was to be expected of any man.”
I kissed her and we put our heads on the pillow, “It was family.”
She shook her head, “My father told me what you had to do and the risks you took. Poor Ralf is visible evidence of what might have happened.”
“But it did not and that, my love, is why we practise each Sunday. We never know when we will be called to war. I fear that the Scots have belligerence in their hearts and that there will be war once more. King Henry casts his eye towards France and the Pope. He seeks land there and when he takes the best of our soldiers east then the plague of Scots will descend from the north. Our journey north taught me that there are too few defences between the Scots and this fertile land of Lancashire. In the east, there are castles and defences but here in the west we are vulnerable.”
She sighed, “Why do they wish to make war?”
“Their land is poor and ours is rich. Your father showed that by making a fortune from sheep. The wool he sells travels beyond England’s shores. Husbandry is a skilled trade and we have it in abundance. It is why, unlike your father, I have good defences here in Ecclestone. If an enemy was foolish enough to try to do what they did at Clifton, then they would pay a bloody price.”
She squeezed me tightly, “And I appreciate it. Now come closer so that I can show you my full appreciation.”
The next morning I could not keep the smile from my face. I was home and despite the crowded nature of my hall, it was harmonious. John and I helped Ralf down the stairs. James had wanted to help but I sent him to help his mother and the cook prepare breakfast. Until Jane could reorganise the household then everyone would have to pitch in.
When we reached the bottom of the stairs Ralf said, “And this will be the last time I am helped up and down the stairs. I will give myself plenty of time this evening to ascend the stairs by myself. There is no rush. You are right, Captain, the more I use my leg the stronger it will become.”
We went to the table which was already being filled with a variety of food. We had our own bread oven and it had been the smell of fresh bread wafting up the stairs that had woken me. We cured our own ham and it was ready to be sliced. A pot of steaming porridge also stood on the table along with honey and jam made from the summer and autumn fruits. The bread was not manchet. We did have wheat bread but not for breakfast. It was not Carter’s bread made with darker flour but was raveled, wholesome bread but with a coarser texture than manchet. I wondered what Mary de Clifton would make of the plainer fare.
She and her husband rose late. This had been their first night in a decent bed for some time and their late rising was understandable. Mary had been changed by her experience. We had eaten the bread that she had endured at Threave and it was Carter’s bread made with oats and barley. Wholesome enough but chewier than raveled and certainly not what Mary was used to. She beamed when she saw the table, “A feast for breakfast, you are spoiling us, Jane.” I was relieved and knew that the normally highly critical Mary had died at Clifton and was now reborn. The kidnapping had exorcised the demons from within her.
After I had enjoyed the best breakfast in a long time, I rose, “Come, James, John and Walter, I have been absent from my land and I need to show John our people.”
Walter grew visibly at his inclusion. The truth was I had missed my family and I would enjoy walking the village with the three of them. We wrapped cloaks around us because the cold weather was coming. It was James who found one for John. Like my father-in-law, the attack had left him as a pauper. I was lucky that I had coins I could use to good effect. If we had more time we could have robbed the dead at Threave but we had not had time. I knew that the treasure taken by the Maxwells would be filling their coffers at Caerlaverock.
The village always rose early and men were already tending their fields. This was the time of year when all was gathered in for winter. Nothing was wasted. It was a lucky bird that found a windfall apple. Most were picked and crushed to make cider. The mash that was left would feed the fields. The berry bushes had been stripped and any fruit that looked like it was going over would be made into jam. Trees were being trimmed to make kindling and provide firewood for the winter as well as encouraging healthier growth in the spring. Children had been in the woods to gather the nuts before the squirrels could store them. When the migrating wildfowl landed to rest, men would trap them and take nature’s bounty. We wasted nothing. Farmers spoke to me as I passed through. The questions and requests I had been given were nothing to do with the rescue, they were to do with farming. My pair of oxen were in great demand. They made the ploughing for the winter crops much easier and fertilised their fields. Some men charged but I did not. I knew that the village would all benefit and my oxen would ensure that people did not starve. There were also questions about borrowing my bull, ram and my boar to fertilise their flocks and herds. My absence, while I was on the raid, had delayed what was a necessary part of our year. At the end of the season, we would be slaughtering the old animals who were not worth keeping over the winter. Then, when all the meat had been used and the bones boiled to make potage and stock, we would burn the bones at the bone fire along with other rubbish that could be used on the fields. The burnt bones would be spread in every field in the village and our farms would all be more fertile.
John knew much of this already but Clifton had been a different sort of enterprise and his father had largely been involved in the raising of sheep, the harvesting of their wool and their protection over winter. We were a more varied farming community. I think he was pleased to be involved. We returned to my hall at noon for food. It would be simple fare: bread, cheese and pickles. My wife sat with me as I ate, “Husband, we need more servants.” Her mother and father were no longer young and both rested in the room we called the parlour. “I need more help in the kitchen and both my mother and father need a body servant.” She shrugged, “They are used to such things. You and I need them not but…”
“Whatever you need, you take. Do not forget my extra pay is there waiting to be used. You have the keys and the purse strings. Whatever coins we have, wife, are for you to use. We will not argue about such inconsequential matters.”
She looked relieved, “And I will need money for material. We can make the clothes but my mother will need finer ones.”
I knew that Roger would need all of his money for the rebuilding of Clifton, “Whatever you need.”
James begged permission to be allowed to spar in the afternoon with John and Walter. Normally I would have been with them but Roger came to ask me for advice. I nodded my agreement, “But James, if Walter returns with a bloody coxcomb, then you will be punished. You are the elder and responsible no matter how wild is your little brother.”
“I know, father, and I will be mindful.”
“And I will watch over them too, captain.”
“Thank you, John.”
Roger and I wrapped up to walk in the village. I think he wanted privacy and to be able to speak openly to me. “I want to say, once more, James, that I can never repay you for what you did.”
“There is no need.”
“There is for I cannot see Clifton being rebuilt any time soon and we will need your charity.”
“It is not charity for you are family and I do not mind. I know Mary once had a low opinion of me but I am well off, Roger, and my lands are profitable. I am paid by Sir Edward Stanley and my success on the battlefield brings me coins. Do not worry if you never rebuild Clifton. We are happy to be your hosts.”
He looked relieved. “Do not misunderstand me, James, I want the estate rebuilding but that is different from creating a fine manor. Before the weather changes too much, I would have you escort me back to Clifton so that I can speak with Richard and provide him with the funds that he will need.”
“Whenever you are ready, we shall go back.”
He asked for and received advice about how he should proceed. He knew sheep and wool making but it was clear that John’s father, John, had been the one who managed the estate. I had been forced to learn such skills when my father died and Roger had never had to. By the time we returned to my hall, he was satisfied that he had a plan in his mind. It was a start and allowed me to forget war for a while.
I knew that Roger was keen to speak to his people and we rode north, at the start of November to speak to Richard and to provide the funds needed to pay the workers on the estate. They all farmed a strip of land but that only gave them food for the summer and autumn. Soon it would be the short days when men tightened their belts and the old and sick starved and died. James and John came with us and we left before dawn. It would not do to ask the villagers to accommodate us. Roger gave Richard permission to cull as many of the older animals as he saw fit. The meat would see them through the worst of winter. He provided funds so that in spring Richard could buy more animals. The Scots had taken the horses and cows, as well as the oxen and the bull when they had raided. The horses had been retained but the others slaughtered for their meat. Roger would have to start afresh. I think that Richard relished the challenge. It was as though the death of John of Clifton had somehow energised his friend. As we left, I was confident that Clifton would be prosperous once more but this time better protected. I doubted that the Scots would risk a raid a second time but if they did then the village would be prepared.
Chapter 6
Ecclestone Christmas 1512
At the end of the year, as we celebrated Christmas and the good things in our lives, I received two pieces of news that I kept to myself. I did not want to spoil the happy atmosphere in my hall. Ecclestone, since I had begun to farm there, had prospered and of the four villages which were close mine had become the most vibrant and important. One sign of its increased prosperity was that the inn, at the end of the village close by the church, the Griffin, now enjoyed more folk who passed through. Since the end of the divisive civil war, King Henry had made the whole land prosperous. I had heard rumours that one way he had done this was to put copper in the coins but whatever he had done it had worked. I only drank there on Sunday, with my centenars after practice, but I often rode to pass it on my rides to Knowsley. Ned, having married following our return from Threave, had inherited a small farm in the tiny village of Knowsley and I often visited.
As I passed the inn I was hailed, “Captain James, is that you?”
I did not recognise the voice nor, at first, the man but I had been taught to be courteous and I rode White Star over to him. He was swathed in a cloak and with scarves wrapped around him. He and his companion had just dismounted from their horses. “You have the advantage of me, sir.” He unswathed his scarf and I recognised him immediately, “John of Hedingham, what brings you this far north?” John had been one of the billmen who had served Sir Edward although he had long given that up.
I dismounted and clasped his arm. He said, “Business.” He turned to his companions, “Stable our horses and go within.” He smiled, “Our old friend, Sam, used the money left to him by Sir Edward to become a merchant and he and I became partners. We buy sheepskins and turn them into wool. Being as close as we are to the river, we can sell them across the channel where they fetch higher prices.”
“Surely the sheep of Suffolk are closer.”
He nodded, “They are but, in the north, beyond Lancaster, you have a sheep called a Herdwick and while the wool is coarser than other sheep it has the ability to keep out water. Sailors heading across the seas to the New World prize garments made from such wool. Sam is a clever man, as you well know, and he has seen an opportunity. Will you come and have an ale with us?”
