Roger and the Seven Year Revolt

[IamWhoa]

Part IX: Hamelina
​

Richard was kept in England for four years. Perhaps bored with his time spent in the keeping of the Earl of Northampton, Richard escaped back to Aquitaine. Over the course of a year he swayed the barons of the land to his cause. After reclaiming most of his former jurisdiction, he began assembling an army. On the 19th of August, 1194, the Seven Year Revolt officially began with the sack of the royal palace in Tours.

It was a year earlier, however, that Richard began contacting the Duke of Norfolk. He was still at that time confined to the shadows, unable to come out into the open. In his one letter to the Duke, he gave his condolences for the insults received at the September Fair. In addition, he offered him his former horse, still kept at Northampton.

“If you can tame her, then consider us friends,” the letter said.

“Hamelina,” as Richard supposedly called it, was certainly a wild beast of riding horse.

With neither apprehension nor excitement, Roger took the horse into his keeping, but he did not try and tame it. Instead it languished in his stables for several weeks.

Roger stared at the horse one morning. It represented—he figured—everything he wanted. He did not feel as though he wanted to join the Revolt (which at that time was still puny, a distant event in the minds of the future rebels), but felt that he might as well. Henry deserved it.

Roger took off his crown and felt the inscriptions.

“So, my lord,” Edward said, having just woken up. Edward liked to feed the horses in the morning, and so stumbled across the Duke by accident. “What shall you do?”

A great while passed and finally Roger put the crown back on his head.

He walked into the stables and laid a hand on the silky brown neck of Hamelina. She neighed in a manner that suggested: “Oh great, here we go.”

It was a long morning. Roger broke his right foot in the struggle and though Hamelina eventually warmed to him, he was left lame for life. Perhaps it was a fair and strangely mythical toll to sacrifice his own legs, for there was no faster or braver steed in England.

Roger had signed himself to whatever revolt Richard had in mind, and it is thought that Richard set his plans in motion upon hearing the tale.
​

 

[robou]

So finally the revolt is set, and Roger has picked his side, though I hardly doubted he would after such an insult from Henry. Death to the King, and lets hope Roger comes out of this ok!

 

[Enewald]

King of Norfolk?
Maybe?

 

[IamWhoa]

Enewald: Well, Roger kind of has England in mind now.

robou: Set indeed, although the entire civil war was pretty sporadic and drawn out. Next comes the bulk of the fighting, though.

I seemed to have lost my notes. I have notes on the computer as well (fairly lean ones, anyway), but the written ones had actual dates. The gist of the story takes place within a short time period though so it shouldn't be too odd. I'll post a second update right after this since it's about time they got on with it the rebellion already.

 

[IamWhoa]

Part X: It Was a Thursday​

For his part in the Seven Year Revolt, Richard the Lionheart played a brilliant but short-lived role. At Poitiers, on the 4th of February 1195, Richard defeated a loyalist army nearly four times the size of his own forces. Yet the victory was not decisive—surprisingly—and Poitiers was soon reclaimed by the king.

By May of that same year, Richard was back in Northampton. Kept under watchful eye, there would be no more mischief by his hands, or so it was intended. But even as he was brought back to the mainland, England erupted in civil war. The seeds Richard had sewn were now the kindle for the Duke of Oxford, Aubrey de Vere, to set out against Henry II. The Counts of Essex, Durham, and Northumberland similarly joined the revolt.

King Henry was unbeatable, however. One by one they fell – Aubrey was exiled, Northumberland and Durham annexed. For three years the revolt carried on by a tenuous thread. All the while Roger kept a close eye. He had been in contact with Richard, or at least a servant of his. Every Thursday Roger would ride two miles west of the outskirts of Norwich. There off to the side of the muddy road was an abandoned barn. A young boy would peep out as Roger approached and with a suspicious gaze he would hobble out.

It was early March—one of these many Thursdays—in 1198.

The boy crossed his arms and in all the meetings of the two, had yet to pick up on a single noble custom or manor.

“He says I should 'spect one of two answers today,” the boy said. He pulled his cloak tight around him as a cool wind slapped down across the earth like a whip.

“What are those then?” Roger said. Hamelina grumbled, kneading the mud of the road with her front hooves.

“Uh, he said something like 'He'll take a seat or take a weapon.'” He added with a mumble: “Ever that means.”

After a thoughtful pause, the boy corrected himself: “Wait – 'Take a seat and the duchy or take a weapon and take the crown.' That was what he said.”

Roger nodded.

“What will it be then?” the boy insisted. “It's cold!”

Richard claimed to support Roger. Now the pieces were set. Out of habit, Roger took of his rustic crown and felt the inscriptions along the outside. The realm would be his.

“I'll take a weapon,” Roger said.

“Alright then.” The boy turned and began walking down the road. “He better start payin' up soon. I'm getting sick of havin' wet feet all the time.”
​

 

[IamWhoa]

Part XI: A Scrawling Once Found​

​

Robert de Beaumont had a son, also named Roger. A man of short stature, he was also [illegible].

[four lines, illegible]

[illegible] “A whore's bosom” was the [illegible]

[two lines, illegible]

The king brought his forces before the walls of Bedford, at that time headed by Robert. The royalist army maintained a single cohesive camp. Foraging parties dominated the lands around Bedford and none could come within sight of the city without leave of his forces. This leave was never granted.

The siege lasted for three and half weeks in total. Robert de Beaumont would have fallen not long after had Roger not arrived. Four-thousand strong, Roger's army was about a third the size of Henry's. Thus would come his great victory at Bedford.

It was by some miracle that Roger was not obliterated, for Roger was not even aware of the king's presence! Emerging from a thicket about a mile west of the city, the size of the rebel army was not immediately calculable. This would prove to be decisive for Roger.

[illegible]

What's more, the sight of the banner of Roger stirred the noble ranks of Henry's army like nothing before. Several [noblemen?] up and deserted right there! Roger's army hadn't even fully arranged itself yet. Even after the battle, which I shall not go into, the very fabrics of Henry's realm were rattled and frayed by the arrival of Roger.

His army was crumbling, but he still had time to fight off the Duke of Norfolk. The question was: would he take the gamble?

[illegible]

The clash of cavalry west of Bedford was proved to the be the deciding factor for Henry. With a solemn hand he ordered his army to retreat to the north. It was an orderly and sobering sight to behold.

Roger entered Bedford to throngs of cheering peasants and men-at-arms; urbanites and priests. His mood was similarly bright and cheerful, as if allowed to glimpse the future he had an aura of inevitability and invincibility. Roger and Robert embraced at the city's center, Robert being considerably shorter than Roger. The next morning the two prepared to set out west.

Their target is Oxford.

[May?] 1198​

 

[Enewald]

Robert was lucky, very. o

 

[IamWhoa]

Chapter XII: The Battle of Brockhall
​

As is indicated by a fragment of a manuscript (found between two slabs of stone in Bedford), Roger was quick to take his momentum to the west. Oxford fell after a short siege, made so by a garrison unwilling to even risk a resistance.

He then backtracked toward Bedford and wheeled north towards Northampton, a staunchly neutral town and county. Beyond it, however, were—in the terms of the rebellion—the fringe provinces of Lincoln and Leicester, which owed their allegiance to the loyalists and rebels respectively.

The duke kept his distance from the city, leading some 5000 to 6000 men to the west of it. It is said he declined to reside in the small village of Brockhall. Instead, he preferred to go around a small impasse of wooded hills, which he wanted behind him before nightfall. As they took on the gentle loop around those hills, they ran into a small scouting detachment.

This small unit of cavalry, probably numbering less than 50, was a pivotal spark in the battle. The loyalist scouts immediately turned about and fled north. The battle is marked to have begun at this point, when Roger exclaimed: “Kill or capture, it doesn't matter!”

Several hundred cavalry, in what was likely an absurd scene to behold, kept on the tail of the fleeing scouts. They disappeared from Roger's sight as they came around a knoll.

They did not return. Roger hesitantly order his forces to advance, catching some commanders by surprise and leaving his forces in slight disarray. When they were within a stone's throw of the hill, the cavalry were witnessed coming over the knoll and, apparently without noticing Roger's advance, sped to the west. As Roger frantically tried to gain their attention and bring them back, a wide series of loyalist banners came up over the summit. Within moments, a force of some 10,000 to 13,000 men had taken up formation both on the hill and across the lowland to the west of it.

There was little time to even register the sight as a force of loyalist knights swept down from a corridor in the east. Though outnumbered by Roger's right-guard, they caught them while still reorganizing and easily set them scurrying south. The brunt of Henry's formation also moved in and clashed with that of Roger's. In a display of either mockery or caution, Henry held back good portion of his troops upon the knoll. They watched and cheered on their brethren below.

When the right-guard regrouped and tried to fight back, those upon the knoll were sent in. The mere advance of the loyalists sent the right-guard running once more. This was the final stroke. As those nearest the right-guard saw their retreat they, too, ran. Man by man, those to the left of the other did likewise.

Henry did not pursue Roger beyond the boundaries of Brockhall. Roger's casualties were actually few, the majority coming from those that had stood their ground in the center. He had also managed to regroup and deter further attack. Nonetheless, the spirit of Roger's men was stayed for the moment. The duke retreated to Bedford, taking winter quarter there. It was, as put by Henry: “The most miserable winter.”

 

[Enewald]

Defeat is not an option. Lure them and place there an ambush.