The Lost Legend of the Thryberg Hawk: The Mystery Crossbow Boy at Towton

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First published in Great Britain in 2010 by Factionpress Published in Great Britain in this edition in 2014 by Pen & Sword Fiction An imprint of Pen & Sword Books Ltd 47 Church Street Barnsley South Yorkshire S70 2AS Copyright Š Jack Holroyd, 2010, 2014 ISBN 978 1 78383 181 4 The right of Jack Holroyd to be identified as Author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

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Contents Prologue: Chapter One: Chapter Two: Chapter Three: Chapter Four: Chapter Five: Chapter Six: Chapter Seven: Chapter Eight: Chapter Nine: Chapter Ten: Chapter Eleven: Chapter Twelve: Chapter Thirteen: Chapter Fourteen: Eplilogue:

Ere Comes the Dawn on St Ethelreda’s Day Anointing of The Avenger Hog-Drive at Michaelmastide and Broken Eggs A Swan Argent Ducaly Gorged and Chained Blooding of The Avenger and A Bride’s Forfeit Flower of Craven and A Blow to The Hawk Lancaster Victorious and A Bacele of Hard Riders Arrival of The Wasps and ‘Snort’ and ‘Grunt’ The Final Muster and The ‘Againrising’ Seven Shields of Lancaster – Die Schraube des Silbers Skirmish at Robin Hood’s Well and Bridger’s End Pontefract Castle and The Battle of Ferrybridge Clifford – Desormais Déjeuner avec le Diable Palm Sunday Field, 1461 – Ante Meridiem Palm Sunday Field, 1461 – Post Meridiem The Heretic Shall Burn on St Ethelreda’s Day APPENDICES The Wars of the Roses Family Tree of Edward III Fifteenth century suit of armour Selection of fifteenth century weapons Bibliography History Trail – Conisbrough to Towton

338 346 347 348 350 352

MAPS Reresby Manor House and St Leonard’s Church 38 Michaelmastide Hog Drive 54 Rotherham to Doncaster 96 Ferrybridge to Towton 285 Palm Sunday Field AM 295 Palm Sunday Field PM 315 England During the Wars of the Roses 339

9 24 39 65 80 103 120 136 160 183 218 239 267 286 304 328

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Introduction

F

OLLOWING THE BATTLE OF BOSWORTH in 1485 and the defeat of Richard III by Henry Tudor of Lancaster, suppression of events of the previous twenty-five years and re-writing of history inevitably took place. The Yorkist reign of Plantagenet Edward IV, along with that king’s victories over supporters of the rival party, received scant and unsympathetic recording by chroniclers of Tudor times. As a consequence, many events which occurred during what would later become known as the Wars of the Roses are hazy and tantalisingly lacking in detail. For example, it is from local folklore that the story of the Yorkist boy archer slaying Lord Dacre from the vantage point of a burr elder tree is gleaned. ‘The Lord of Dacres was slain in North Acres’, ran oral tradition. The legend first appears in print in 1585. To have achieved such a well-aimed shot during a snow storm is astounding. Again, the despatching of another Lancastrian lord (Sir John, Lord Clifford) the previous day in a similar way – an arrow in the throat as the victim removed his neck protection in order to take a drink – is an intriguing coincidence. From other sources we learn that Edward IV was offering a bounty of one hundred pounds on the heads of certain leading lights opposed to him. Unfortunately, all the fascinating detail is absent from the records, we have only the briefest information.

The likely weapon used in the instances mentioned would have been the crossbow with its flat trajectory and pin-point accuracy, rather than the longbow. For maximum efficiency, crossbow boys worked in pairs, one loading and the other shooting. My thanks to Jack Sheldon, former British Military Attaché in Berlin, for detailed information concerning the organisation of a continental mediaeval

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crossbow unit. Both sides in the Wars of the Roses employed foreign mercenary formations within their armies.

This work began as an attempt to offer a plausible explanation for some ‘missing’ history, an attempt at unravelling some of the mysteries surrounding a crucial period in the late fifteenth century when, for a period of twenty-six days, England had rival kings. The situation was settled on Towton Field with the bloodiest engagement ever to take place in this country. At the close of that Palm Sunday, 1461, the heralds counted 28,000 corpses hacked and stabbed to death. About the same number of Englishmen killed on the first day of the Somme by artilleryand machine-gun fire.

Surprisingly, very little about this period is part of public awareness.

What have doubtlessly worked against the period ever becoming popular are the misconceptions and irritating putoffs. For instance, the Wars of the Roses were not battles between the counties of Lancashire and Yorkshire (a concept aggravated by the borrowing of the term in connection with the present-day cricket competition). Geographically, it was, in the main, Lancaster in the north of England and York in the South, but that is an over-simplification. Further complication is the fact that the base for Lancaster was at one period at the city of York, whereas the House of York could be said to have a London base, although Middleham, Sandal and Conisbrough were Yorkist manors. Allegiances differed widely, even within the areas which we would have expected to have been staunch supporters of a particular side. Take the case of Barnsley, which came under the holdings of the honor of Pontefract and the Duchy of Lancaster, yet it favoured the Duke of York and arrested two agents of Lancaster and had them imprisoned in Sandal castle. Following the death of the duke at the Battle of Wakefield in December, 1460, the agents, Thomas Philip and Thomas Tipton, took their revenge on the Barnsley community.

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Translation of documents from Latin to has confirmed the warring and denouncing between neighbours during that period of civil unrest. Mediaevalist Celia Parker opened up fresh insight with her translation of Conisbrough Leet Court rolls, for the first time, enabling a glimpse of the effect the Lancastrian host’s march through South Yorkshire had on the people. Also the settling of accounts following the Yorkist victory at Towton.

The mediaeval period lay heavy under religious superstition; events and stories contained in the Bible were applied to everyday life, given the required ‘spin’ and mixed with fanciful tales, then dispensed by the Church to a largely compliant laity. Voices of dissidence were often quelled by fire. In order to achieve a true flavour and sense of time and place in the late fifteenth century an understanding of how superstitiously-charged religion influenced the masses was essential. Numerous references to holy writ and Church history were resorted to in compiling this work.

It is to hoped that this book will awaken an interest in a most fascinating time in the history of this country, when rival kings vied for the throne, during a period which became known as the Wars of the Roses.

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Four riders entering Conisbrough Castle, Thursday evening, 21st June, 1509. Three days before the coronation in London of Henry VIII.

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LOST LEGEND OF THE HAWK Whilst awaiting the Reresby scribe John managed to rest, even sleeping amidst all the clamour of the crowd that was growing by the hour. Like something akin to the plague, word was spreading throughout the West Riding and North Lincolnshire: the brother of The Hawk was a captive at Conisbrough Castle.

Cock-crow signalled the arrival of morning and the order was given to raise the castle drawbridge. In an ever-increasing queue, like ants besieging a cracked honey pot, the curious thronged the approach road to the gate. There they were being assessed as those meriting admittance and assisted by the colour of their coinage. Minstrels and troubadours were being granted priority by the castle deputy-steward, since it was deemed necessary that they should hear at first hand the true account of the doings of the Plantagenet hero. It would be their skills that would be concerned with spreading the tale through ballad and song throughout England, despite supression and discouragement by the ruling House of Tudor.

Shortly after breaking of the fast, two scribes made known their craft and gained admittance. The dowager Lady Lucy Fitzwilliam took a hand in matters, directing that the storyteller and his two guards, along with the four assembled scribes, be removed to the bedchamber in the castle keep, where control of the pressing throng might be more easily managed.

In that splendid fortress tower, well-fed and at his ease, surrounded by upwards of thirty people, and with an unknown number crowding the staircase to the chamber below, John seated himself. His words would be relayed by word of mouth to those gathered in the bailey.

All eyes in the room were fixed upon him, awaiting his opening words. The focus of attention only served to unnerve him and swept clean away all thought. Nervously, he glanced at the two clerks seated at a tabula plicata, poised quills in hand, and behind them within the solar window two monks,

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HOG-DRIVE AT MICHAELMASTIDE AND BROKEN EGGS ready to replace them at the desk. Silence cloaked the room – all were awaiting his opening words.

After what seemed an age, he spoke ‘Ah, where to begin?’ was all that he could find to utter.

Lady Lucy, along with three attendant ladies and a number of children, was seated close to him and one member of that party, a young girl of twelve or so her face alight with eagerness, called across, ‘Eleanor and the broken eggs. Tell us of The Hawk and the little girl.’ She turned for support to her young companions. ‘And the animals,’ called another child, ‘Tell us of his enchanting of the animals.’ A loud ‘yes’ was chorused.

Groans came from some of the men who awaited the account of what had happened when Margaret’s Lancastrians flooded through the district. Most had forebears who had been caught up in the bitter side-taking and acts of revenge following the Towton victory. Others were desirous of learning how The Hawk had begun to go about settling accounts on behalf of the House of York. How a commoner, a child, could become a knight, nagged the minds of still others.

Chattering grew and swamped the room.

Suddenly, a lute intervened and a minstrel, well-arrayed in the velvet of knighthood and with a voice as rich as that of any nightingale sang out: Yellow and black, yellow and black, with stings as deadly as Hell, Yellow and black, and twenty fine lads were eclipsed on that day When The Hawk proved cock of the pack.

The minstrel’s song immediately prompted appeals for the account of the crossbow competition shot at that very castle in March, 1461, when young Edmund had first come to the notice of newly-acclaimed sovereign, Edward IV, his lords and captains of York.

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LOST LEGEND OF THE HAWK ‘Yes, yes, die Wespen! Tell us about the Wasps! We would hear about the mercenary’s kinderschrots,’ called out one.

‘Boltzen aus Silber!’ called another ‘Tell us of the winning of the Silver Bolt, when your brother hit ten target shields of the House of Lancaster.’ That was greeted by cries of agreement from those men packed into the bedchamber.

‘My brother, to the best of my knowledge, never hit a single shield in his entire life! Ah, and there were but seven shields, not ten.’

The room fell silent at that apparent denial. The storyteller’s authoritative explanations were all the more awaited.

A tug at his sleeve brought his attention to the face of a very determined-looking little seven-year-old. A blue-eyed girl with fair hair glared at him with eyebrows furrowed and mouth flattened in obvious annoyance. ‘Eleanor and the broken eggs,’ she persisted. She would not to be denied.

The account of the events of St Wilfred’s Day, 1460, would certainly reveal a side of The Hawk that should be told: the boy knight was thought by many to be a cold-hearted killer, but his older brother would now reveal another facet of Edmund Hawksworth.

So there it was. The children commanded the events of that dawn of John’s last temporal day, for tomorrow’s light would herald St Ethelreda’s Day and, following the period of None, his journey to Doncaster and martyrdom. So the storytelling began.

*

*

*

*

The star of good fortune, hovering on the horizon for the House of York, seemed to take on an ascendancy in the summer of 1460. The worthies of the City of London had sided with related family members the Lords Salisbury, Warwick, Fauconberg and the Earl of March. Duke Richard

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HOG-DRIVE AT MICHAELMASTIDE AND BROKEN EGGS abandoned all pretence and publicly laid claim to the throne of England.

To accommodate the Duke of York’s challenge to the throne yet still leave Henry VI as sovereign, a compromise was arrived at by Parliament – they called it the Act of Accord.

Henry would retain the throne until his death. Thereafter, Richard of York and his descendants would inherit the crown.

Until that day, Richard would have to be content with the position of Protector.

That compromise disinherited Henry’s son and the succession of the House of Lancaster; enmity was thus guaranteed and would seethe in a cauldron of hate for years to come – Queen Margaret would see to that. Her child Edward would not lose his birthright. The House of Lancaster would continue to rule the kingdom while ever she could rouse support. Thereby the Wars of the Cousins was assured.

On Michaelmas Eve 1460, a sumptuous banquet was held in the Guild Hall by the Lord Mayor of London. It was attended by a thousand guests and lasted for four hours. An uneasy peace existed between the supporters of Lancaster and York.

O

n that very same night in the West Riding of Yorkshire lesser mortals, who were soon to be caught up in the threatening maelstrom, were intent upon other pressing matters. The demands of the season required that a hog-drive be undertaken. This was in readiness for ‘blood month’ when the slaughter of animals for winter supplies took place – meat for salting at both Yorkist properties at Sandal and Conisbrough. Both castles and their manors belonged to Duke Richard.

Sir Thomas Harrington of Brierley, on behalf of Richard of York, had purchased a herd of swine from a breeder near Aberford. The two brothers, John and Edmund, were loaned

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LOST LEGEND OF THE HAWK to Conisbrough Manor to assist in the drive. It had become common knowledge that the boy, Edmund Hawksworth, could ensure a successful and speedy drive. The brothers’ services had been sought ever since news of the amazing control Edmund could exercise over a herd of pigs had spread throughout the Riding.

‘How many days, O wise enchanter?’ The reeve called out to Edmund, impatient to get the drive started.

The brothers had arrived at the large piggery south of the town of Tadcaster riding on one horse and accompanied by a herder from Conisbrough manor, ‘Smudger’ Smythe, on another. The two palfreys were in part payment for the herd.

Five other men from Sandal Manor made up the team of drovers.

Edmund whispered to his brother and John called back, ‘Less than three days if the weather stays fine.’

‘They’ll be a bounty in it if we make it in two,’ shouted the reeve.

The reeve, William Scargill, was a short, tough-looking veteran of the annual hog-drive, a bullying Yorkshireman who treated his drovers little better than the swine, bringing down his staff on the back of man and animal alike. Standing on an up-ended food trough, he addressed the ragged herders like a captain at Agincourt.

‘We’re avoiding Pontefract. It’s rumoured that men in array are gathering at that place in support of Lancaster and are intent on mischief.’

He proceeded to assign each man his position and duties, after which he added, ‘Some o’ yond,’ he indicated the pens, ‘have not been ringed and will be wanting to root, so keep them as is not ringed int’ middle of t’ herd.’ Pointing his staff at Edmund ‘Ah thar ready, young Hawksworth?’ Edmund nodded and began to move off towards the pig pens. Scargill called after him, ‘We’re crossing the Aire at Castleford.’

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