The Wars of the Roses

[Kurt_Steiner]

To all - Look for the next scene to arrive tomorrow if and when I get home to my computer after the birthday party tonight. Christ! 50 years old! I don't mind saying there is a part of me that never thought I would see this day. Let's just say that your dear coz1 has done much partying over the years which may or may not have included illegal drugs. Today it's just the beer and the odd gummy every now and then (plus my smoking) but I feel as if I have defied the odds. Good thing too since this story wasn't going to write itself.

Thanks so much for reading and giving comment. That is always a gift!

Oh dear.

I turned 50 last Tuesday.

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

I will remember this in 2047.

 

[polakma]

I half your age and I already feel old

 

[coz1]

Fb-fb:

You know, it's stuff like this that makes the Ned way of doing things so attractive. They don't jave to worry about unruly vassals because they're all ned family members, and whenever one of those steps out of line, they just kill them.

Except for the Duke of Blairington, who is expected to do a stupid rebellion every so often.

Sort of like George Duke of Clarence even though he was forgiven over and over again until he wasn't. Can't say if this George will be like that one quite yet.

Oh dear.

I turned 50 last Tuesday.

Congrats on leveling up, mate! I'd say 50 is the new 40...or something like that.

I will remember this in 2047.

Enjoy your youth as much as you can while you have it.

I half your age and I already feel old

Likewise as above.


To all - Thank you for the comments but not too much on the latest update. Another day to add such before the final installment of the chapter coming tomorrow. It's a corker (I hope.)

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

Enjoy your youth as much as you can while you have it.

Uh huh... *looks at the increasing chances of ww3 breaking out whilst they are still serviceable*

Maybe!

 

[coz1]

Uh huh... *looks at the increasing chances of ww3 breaking out whilst they are still serviceable*

Maybe!

There is always deferment.

Now back to the scheduled story of young men dying for others?

[EDIT - Unless no one bloody cares.]

 

[Kurt_Steiner]

I wonder if Stanley will begin his tradition of switching sides at the now...

 

[polakma]

Approaching battle sounds exciting

 

[coz1]

More fb-fb:

I wonder if Stanley will begin his tradition of switching sides at the now...

With the Stanley brothers, that is always a good question.

Approaching battle sounds exciting

Thanks. I hope it is.

And it comes up in just a moment...

 

[coz1]

Blore Heath, September 1459​

The Earl of Salisbury trotted his horse just to the edge of the tree line with much of his army protected by the heavy woods behind him. He looked to his left and gave nod as that flank was concealed behind a small hill before a stream leading to Hempmill Brook. Over the horizon, he could see the army of the Queen and they appeared as suspected. Far larger than his own numbers. Both his son John Neville and Sir William Stanley rode up behind him with Stanley allowing a whistle, “They may be inexperienced, but there are a lot of them.”

“Do you spy your brother’s standard?” Salisbury asked the knight.

Sir William peered as closely as he might and shook his head, “I am to understand that he gives Lord Audley and the Queen ‘fair promises’ of his arrival. In due time...of course. He may suffer a head cold.”

“To be sure,” Salisbury allowed a slight smile, “Yet that is but a pittance of those before us.”

John pressed, “What to do, father?”

The Earl stayed quiet for a time before finally looking to his son, “Johnny, I want you to go with your brother and pull back some of these from the front.”

“We are to retreat?!” the son showed shock, “We have not come this far just to turn back and they stand between us and Market Drayton.”

Salisbury held a calming hand to his arm, “Nay, son...it is a ruse. I told you that I know this Audley. And he is under as much pressure as we. If he sees his chance to take us, he will not let it go.”

“That is quite a lot of cavalry,” Sir William suggested.

Salisbury gave nod, “Tis true. Yet it is also a very heavy embankment to the brook and that is where we shall focus. I wish you to go to our left and command with your men. My sons will pull back here and wait for the fish to take the bait.”

He gave nod and John Neville also started to ride away before his father stopped him, “Johnny...I want you and Tom to the cannon once this begins. Be smart about it for we have little to offer there, but it may prove determinant.”

With a nod, John rode away and Salisbury looked again across the brook, “Let us see what you’ve got, sir.”

Just as he suspected, the ruse worked. After a volley of arrows from longbowmen of both sides, Lord Audley’s cavalry began to thunder towards the brook. It was a deafening sound even with the wet ground from the long rains of the week prior. Yet this was exactly what Lord Salisbury counted upon and as the cavalry tried to forge the brook and climb up the opposite bank, a rain of arrows poured upon them instead.

It was too much for them and though some few made the breach, the rest were forced to retreat and regroup. After beating back those few, the Earl rode fast to spread the word...pull back once more. More to that, he sent a runner to his sons. Begin the cannon fire. As Salisbury turned to ride back to the front, he heard the sound over his head and smiled.

Lord Audley was not yet done and his cavalry made a second attempt to breach the brook with his vanguard dismounted to lead their mounts over. This was the moment Salisbury waited for and he shouted, “Pour it on, lads!!!”

After sending a runner to Sir William for him to enter the fray, he called forth several of his knights, “Let us to it and see this day won!!!”

A hail of arrows from the Yorkist ranks fell on the remaining cavalry and shot many of their horses from under them. It was so unnerving that nearly five hundred of them defected at once and began to fight their own. Sir William’s forces forged the stream and closed up the sides such that the center was a bloody chaos.

Men of both sides slipped in and out of the mud and it was quickly hand to hand combat. Yet to their credit, Lords Audley and Dudley led. So did Salisbury. He himself had been unhorsed but despite his age, he fought on. Swinging his sword with precision, he shouted to Sir Thomas Harrington and Sir John Conyers who were covering his back, “Look you to the bank! Take your fill!!!”

“I see him, my Lord!” Conyers answered and fought his way to another, “Come on, Kynaston! Let’s end this now!”

Leaving Harrington and Sir Thomas Parr to protect the Earl, the two knights continued to slash their way until they were to the bed of the brook. There they found their prey. Lord Audley presented as a warrior even though he knew his life was now short. He parried every thrust...until he could no longer.

What seemed but a moment actually took nearly five hours. Stanley’s men pursued the fleeing Lancastrian forces and Hempmill Brook now ran red with blood. Injured soldiers from both sides lay strewn about hoping for some succor which in many cases did not come. It was only by chance that Salisbury happened upon the luckless Lord Dudley and his son Edmund Sutton. Both were covered in mud and blood yet Dudley had the wherewithal to call out, “Lord Earl! We are your prisoners!”

The Earl trudged through the murky brook and bent to a knee with a sad face, “Ah, John...it need not have been this way.”

“There is no other way,” the injured Dudley tried to smile in his pain.

Salisbury called out for some to help the knight and then looked back with sorrow, “Your service was still noble, sir.”

“Audley?” Lord Dudley winced in his question.

The Earl shook his head in silence and then stood to survey the battlefield, such as it was. He watched soldiers pull Dudley and his son from the muck and then pressed his way up the bank. It did not go unnoticed how difficult it was and he allowed a smile. As he crested the bank, he was met by Sir William Stanley.

“My Lord...I think victory, but at great cost.”

Salisbury gave nod, “Too true, sir. They lost but so did we. How did you fair?”

“I shall have to find way to explain it to my sisters,” Sir William lowered his head, “Their husbands did not make it.”

“Both of them?!” the Earl asked with shock.

Sir William looked up again with a sure gaze, “Among the many, my Lord.”

“Tis too poor,” Salisbury held his shoulder in sadness, “And we remain in our quest.”

“So we press on?” Stanley questioned.

The Earl looked around, “I would like to. Yet I think we require a rest.”

“Yet the Queen’s full army remains not too far from the field,” Sir William answered, “I think not that we should allow them a second chance.”

Salisbury looked to the distance as the night began to fall, “We should call back our stragglers. Get as many to camp as possible, though some will try to pursue the routed soldiers. I shall answer what we will do then.”

Sir William Stanley tipped a knuckle to his helm and left Salisbury to continue surveying what remained. He walked slowly and spied dead men to his left and right, some with his own livery but many more showing Lancastrian colors. By the time he made it back to the cannon behind the lines, one of his knights rushed to him.

“I cannot believe it!” Sir Thomas Parr greeted him with excitement, “Who could think they would be so overwhelmed?!”

Lord Salisbury did not reply with the same joy, “We should not cease firing the cannon.”

“Yet they have fled, sir!”

“Only for so long,” he replied, “If they believe that we have lowered our defense, they may well try once more.”

“In the dark, sir?!” Sir Thomas questioned.

“Mayhap especially in the dark,” Salisbury looked around and a worry took over his face, “Where be my sons?”

Sir Thomas lowered his head, “I am afraid they are not to be found, my Lord. At the heaviest of fighting, they went off to your rescue.”

“Damned fools!” Salisbury shifted to look over the dead and wounded of the camp and then spied an Augustinian friar assisting the injured that trickled into the camp, “You there, brother...may I have a word?”

The friar held to the hem of his robes to avoid the mud and made his way to the Earl, “Yes?”

“I am missing of my sons.”

“As so many may this night, sir,” the friar replied.

The Earl’s worried face told the tale as he answered, “I should like you to give them a message should they appear.”

“I would do what I am able.”

Salisbury gave nod and followed, “You do good work.”

“I do God’s work, sir,” the friar answered.

Salisbury allowed a smile, “I should like to offer a gift to your monastery to assist you.”

“I believe you may wish to buy forgiveness for what has been done.”

“You may be right,” the Earl gave nod, “Yet more to that, I would like to mayhap buy a favor from you.”

The friar skewed a brow, “As if our order does not do enough?”

“You do more than enough, brother,” Salisbury held a hand to his shoulder, “Yet to avoid more bloodshed, I would ask it anyway.”

“Fair enough,” the friar answered.

“My thanks,” the Earl turned to Sir Thomas Parr, “I would like you to take as many of the healthy with you and move on to Market Drayton. I would remain behind and gather those still straggling into camp. Once we have the rest of our force, we shall follow and meet you there as soon as able.”

The knight wasted no time, “I will do. But take a care for yourself, my Lord.”

As he ran off to fulfill his orders, the Earl mustered those that remained and was finally joined by Sir William Stanley, “Nearly all that are left are accounted for, my Lord. And more to that, I bring word from my brother.”

“Truly?” Salisbury questioned.

Stanley grinned, “He offers his congratulations, my Lord.”

“Rather odd that...” the Earl showed no appreciation, “...yet any ally is to be desired.”

Sir William questioned, “So what now?”

“We must press on,” Lord Salisbury replied, “I’ve sent the rest on to Market Drayton and we must join them. I should like you especially to escort our prisoners here.”

He pointed to the injured Lord Dudley and his son. Sir William was impressed, “I would be happy to oblige.”

“Treat them well, sir,” Salisbury admonished, “For I think we to need them. My sons are missing and I am afeared captured if not worse.”

Sir William lowered his head, “That causes a heavy heart, my Lord. Though a victory, it has cost a lot.”

“Indeed it has,” the Earl of Salisbury directed him to gather those that were left and then moved to his tent. As he exited, he made his way to the friar, “Brother, take this coin. We are on the move yet I ask you to fire these cannon throughout the night. The Queen’s forces will surely be here on the morn and will take them, yet we must travel with speed and have no use for them. Tell them you were forced and you will not face repercussion.”

The friar showed the sign of the cross and bowed his head, “I shall offer you prayer, sir. For that is all that I may do for your soul. Yet I will fire the cannon. And wish you God’s speed.”

With that, those that were left in camp departed out into the darkness as silently as they might. As they moved, they could hear the periodic fire of the cannon that grew less and less as they marched. By morning, they had reached Market Drayton without harassment and Lord Salisbury even found some good news. His sons were alive. They had been captured at Acton Bridge as they were searching for a safe house to rest.

Sir William Stanley pressed him, “We should not wait too long, my Lord. Now that we are together, we should move on to Ludlow. I know that you wish further word on your sons, but we cannot afford it. She will discover our ruse and advance.”

As disconsolate as he was, the Earl had to agree. He gave his orders and once more they were on the march. It seemed as if every step he took was heavier than the last. Salisbury worried about his sons...all of them. Were Tom and Johnny safe? Injured? And what of Dickon? Where was the Earl of Warwick and how did he fare? A great victory and against all odds, yet at what cost? When and more importantly if he finally made it to Ludlow Castle and the Duke of York, he would have great question indeed.

End of Chapter 13​

 

[Kurt_Steiner]

The fate of Salisbury's sons is disturbing, indeed.

 

[HistoryDude]

I wonder if that "I know not the English word" comment will hurt Margaret.

I wonder what York himself thinks of all this. He has been put at odds by the actions of another when he probably wanted to wait until Henry died, which would leave Margaret his only true enemy...

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

I wonder if that "I know not the English word" comment will hurt Margaret.

I wonder what York himself thinks of all this. He has been put at odds by the actions of another when he probably wanted to wait until Henry died, which would leave Margaret his only true enemy...

"Oh no! The Queen assassinated the King to put her child puppet on the throne!"

"But I'm not d-"

*thump*

"State funeral. Lots of public mourning. He was a good man once. I wish he had been a better king."

 

[coz1]

Fb-fb:

The fate of Salisbury's sons is disturbing, indeed.

While it may seem like I'm "gilding the lily" as it were to provide even more trauma from the battle, this is exactly what happened. I cannot say what happens to them, but it certainly puts a "Pyrrhic" level to it. Also Stanley's brothers in law. I would not want to have that conversation with his sisters.

I wonder if that "I know not the English word" comment will hurt Margaret.

I wonder what York himself thinks of all this. He has been put at odds by the actions of another when he probably wanted to wait until Henry died, which would leave Margaret his only true enemy...

I doubt Margaret's comment will matter. It was more an attempt to suggest she still might have a language barrier when it comes to these types of things.

As for York, he's already fully in. At least for standing for his right to counsel the King. He's already fought one battle so another doesn't really change that. Yet...what happens next?

"Oh no! The Queen assassinated the King to put her child puppet on the throne!"

"But I'm not d-"

*thump*

"State funeral. Lots of public mourning. He was a good man once. I wish he had been a better king."

I think York likes your play better than his own reality.


To all - In researching this battle, there really is no good reason why Salisbury won other than the circumstance (which, of course, matters in all battles.) Salisbury was an "old soldier" in a sense so he was good at that one assumes. Audley was forced to fight (by the Queen.) He had little other choice. (Actually, neither of them had much choice.) And the cannon fire (such that it was) really was a smart reaction at the end. I really enjoyed writing this scene even if it wasn't a down to the soldier level of how the battle went. Again...I do not think battle scenes are my strong suit so I tend to write around it. I hope it works.

I'm planning on starting the next chapter (which picks up right where we left off) tomorrow but I can wait a day or so if others want to catch up. Seems like some of my readers are getting pretty busy right now and I hate to lose anyone. Your comments matter and I would love to see them in real time rather than some catching up and don't want to go back to each post. That said, it may be better for some in reading to read several scenes at a time for the flow. To each his own. I've had to rather curtail my writing of late because of personal events but I still have plenty in the can at least until chapter 16. Obviously I wish the highest readership as possible so let me know what works. I thought a 3 day period between posts (rather than 2) did so but then the comments slowed down so...hmm.

At any rate, I thank each and every reader and appreciate each and every comment. Thank you!

 

[polakma]

Seeing their own men fight their comrates must have been terrifyignly confusing. I wish Salisbury's sons a fortunate outcome

 

[coz1]

Seeing their own men fight their comrates must have been terrifyignly confusing. I wish Salisbury's sons a fortunate outcome

The chaos surely did not help the Lancastrians here.

Now stay tuned for Chapter 14...

 

[coz1]

Chapter 14: Ludford Bridge

* * *

Blore Heath, September 1459​

She rode slowly over the ground atop her courser caparisoned with golden velvet, a breast plate over her chest and a metal helm upon her head. It was a poor fit due to her size, and as she surveyed the land around her she began to think it was a poor fit due to her station in life. Margaret should have won this. She knew it. Everything had come together for her and a chance to get back at York...Warwick...Salisbury? All lost, including her man Lord Audley.

“Your Grace!” a soldier called out, “We’ve located his badge!”

“Leave it,” the Lord of Shrewsbury answered quickly as he rode alongside her, “He would not be recognized, Your Grace. A terrible thing occurs in battle...”

Margaret did not take her eyes away from the dead that covered the ground, “You would know? You were on so many of your late father’s adventures?”

“Action is not bloodless, my Lady,” the younger John Talbot expressed, “And here you may see the result.”

She was in no mood to discuss it, “Where is the camp?!”

“Fled...to be sure,” Shrewsbury replied, “It is thought within the night.”

As another boom sounded to their front, she shouted, “Whomever brings me the head of the man firing that cannon will be rewarded!!”

They both crossed the bloody brook and were soon to what was left of Salisbury’s command. Two soldiers pulled forth the Augustinian friar and held him rudely as they presented him to the Queen. Margaret slowed to a stop and was helped from her mount. With great round eyes, she looked at the frightened monk and said with more than irritation, “Where...are...they?!”

“I could not say,” the friar answered, “I have seen few living souls since last light. My brothers and I have only seen the dead.”

“You may well join them,” she offered a sneer as she looked around again.

Before she could say more, the sound of other horses came into hearing and the Duke of Buckingham slowed to a stop on his mount. He peered down to her and she back up to him and neither said a word. It was only when the soft steps of the King trudging through the mud and muck alerted them that they ceased their gaze of anger.

Henry VI had been called to Eccleshall prior to the battle to lend it authority. With both him and the Prince in residence, it was thought it may lend power to their presence. Yet he had little idea what his wife had planned. Not truly. And the land he saw before him now shocked him.

It was not uncommon over the years to find a monarch that might witness the day after...the blood and treasure spilled and wasted for a cause...whether it be his own namesakes or many others. Yet this King was especially filled with grief as he bent to each body and made the sign of the cross. Tears were clear to his eyes and he prayed over many as he moved along. Followed as he was by the very young Prince, King Henry made a point to show the boy. Here lies another...and another...and so on.

The Duke of Buckingham finally dismounted without ease and stood next to the Queen, “His very heart is wounded, madam.”

Margaret ignored him as Henry grew closer and she finally went to her husband, “Do you see how poor it is, mon cher? What this man might do to you?”

“It is too poor,” the King continued to look at the dead, “So many brave souls. God’s house is full this day...and for what?”

“Hubris, Your Grace,” Buckingham announced for all to hear, “There is naught else for one to do when one holds little hope.”

Margaret turned to the Duke with frustration, “And where were you, my Lord? Yet another battle in which you did not show!”

The Duke of Buckingham merely replied, “I told you, my Lady Queen...this is not how His Grace may wish it.”

“You will find me Lord Stanley...or Lord Dudley...anyone that may answer to how this has gone so wrong!” she demanded.

Lord Shrewsbury stood close, “Lord Dudley is taken prisoner, Your Grace. As to Lord Stanley...I believe he is to be anon.”

“Mon dieu...à propos du temps!” Margaret looked to them all, “Then he will answer!”

King Henry sat next to a body and rested a gentle hand to his chest. He prayed again and then replied, “There is no answer. One has been poked too strongly and God Almighty has judged them all.”

The Queen was quick to stand between her son and her husband, “You speak nonsense, sir! Our Prince should not hear these words. And you have covered yourself in mud! Who would look upon you as their King?!”

“Madam!!” both the Duke of Buckingham and Lord Shrewsbury suggested strongly.

Henry merely looked up with a kind face, “Pay her no mind, good sirs. She does not know how horrible this has become.”

A soldier moved to the Duke’s side and whispered to him and then Humphrey Stafford lowered his head as he spoke, “Your Grace...it is even worse than thought. Of the many men here, it is said that over three thousand have perished. A rough count but as accurate as we may have it at the now. One thousand alone that fought for the Lord of Salisbury. The rest...yours.”

When the King found another tear, Margaret knelt by his side and whispered, “Do...you...see?”

The Augustinian friar still held close spoke up, “Your Grace...I may say that his lordship of Salisbury did vacate the field when he may have gone for more blood. When given chance...he called back all of his and moved.”

“Yes...” Henry used his arm to lift himself and shifted to the friar, “...and you, good man. You have done the Lord’s work to here.”

“We would do whatever God calls upon us to do for these souls,” the friar replied.

The King showed a slight smile, “Of course you would. And poor Lord Audley. A great man. Great fighter and warrior. Could you see that he is...remembered...to this place?”

“The Lord of Salisbury has already made it so, Your Grace,” the monk answered, “A goodly amount of coin.”

“That is fine...” King Henry smiled, “...that is very fine.”

“Your Grace...” the Duke of Buckingham suggested, “...should you not be back to the hall? Take with you the Prince. We have witnessed this all, and...”

“Yes,” Queen Margaret showed ill temper, “You should pray, husband. See your soul cleansed and we shall see to the after.”

Henry shuffled back through the den of corpses and gave nod, “I think to pray all night.”

“Lord Shrewsbury?” Margaret was immediate in her response, “Where be our party at the now?”

The Duke of Buckingham answered for him, “I should think to Market Drayton. And then on from there.”

“How long will it take you to get there?” she ignored the Duke.

“As soon as possible, my Lady Queen,” he answered.

Margaret was not yet done, “Good. For we hold with us the might of the Prince’s forces and these traitors are still outnumbered. One chance is lucky. Another? I do not think so. We know where they head. Assemble all and we move. Before nightfall.”

As she gathered her son to her and trudged herself through the mud, the Duke of Buckingham watched and spoke to the younger John Talbot, “I am not certain who is worse.”

Shrewsbury offered a shocked eye, “Sir! My Lord, if there was ever one not to cross it is that one. These soldiers will follow her not because they believe...yet because they fear her.”

“And that is not a way to build an army,” Buckingham suggested as he looked to the Queen.

“The way or no, my Lord...she is singular in her thought,” Shrewsbury replied as he moved on, “She is fighting mad and her countenance is fearful. Her whole look is so terrible that to all men against whom she takes displeasure...her frowning will be their undoing and her indignation their death.”

Buckingham gave nod as he looked to the strewn field of bodies and said to himself softly, “And she will most assuredly see to that herself.”

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

For God's sake, even the Kings side thing they should stop supporting the queen. What on earth are they going to do if they end up winning this? Arrest her?

 

[HistoryDude]

And Queen Margaret loses even more support! Deport her to France already! She can try her schemes there! She'll fail miserably obviously, but at least she might realize that no one likes her...

King Henry despises the violence, but his inaction still allowed it to happen...

 

[TheButterflyComposer]

And Queen Margaret loses even more support! Deport her to France already! She can try her schemes there! She'll fail miserably obviously, but at least she might realize that no one likes her...

King Henry despises the violence, but his inaction still allowed it to happen...

Time for someone to arrange a series of accidents. Doesn't really matter who. Just make sure both King and Queen are taken out of the picture.

Then have the Prince take over with Edward as regent. Best of both worlds. Except until someone (probably a tudor) comes to start this all up again.