Ceiteach of Tupsley

My tale starts in Leinster, Ireland where my family had land and farmed. We were not wealthy, but it was our land and we made do. Our family’s troubles started way back in 1172 when Dermott McMurrough, who was at the time King of Leinster, asked King Henry II to assist him in his quest to become Ard Righ or King of all Ireland. You have to understand that Ireland was divided into 4 kingdoms and each had its own King.

Ruaidhrí Ó Conchobhair was King of all Ireland at the time and was going to remain so. King Henry used this chance to consolidate his position in Ireland and divide the land amongst his Norman Knights and Nobles. In 1175 Henry recognised Ruaidhrí Ó Conchobhair as King of all Ireland, as long as he paid homage to Henry and looked after the lands on his behalf. However he, Ruaidhrí, could not control the Norman Knights and their behaviour meant that eventually it was safer to leave, and the family sailed for England.

We settled in the village of Northfield near the manor of Sir William de Birmingham. Sir William and his son Robert de Birmingham were amongst the Norman knights sent by Henry to Ireland. Robert suggested that we came to England as it would be safer and there was good farm land in Northfield just south of his manor house in Birmingham

This is where we stayed and farmed as tenant farmers, until the death of Sir Fulk de Birmingham. Following his death the family moved south to Hereford and acquired a small holding in the Village of Tupsley, it is here I was born in December 1375. I had a little brother, but he died young, so there was only me left.

We had always been farmers and my father, who was a good archer, taught me well. He was very proud of his Irish heritage and chaffed at the injustices of the English Lords, but farming and hunting didn’t always pay well, and you had to be careful when hunting, some might call it poaching, for the Kings men were garrisoned in Hereford castle. Henry IV liked to use the castle as a stronghold for raids against Owain Glyndwr.

In 1402 Sir Edmund Mortimer, of Ludlow Castle, needed men to put a stop to the Welsh raids by Owain Glyndwr. My father and I were indented to go as archers. We had no choice, for Henry IV was the Duke of Hereford and we farmed on his land.

The armies met at Pilleth in the battle of Bryn Glas. It wasn’t a glorious victory for Mortimer, and when my father fell in battle I had to turn coat to survive. I told the Welsh Archers that my mother had been Welsh and had been taken against her will as a young girl into England. Hereford was always being raided by the Welsh as the border was so close, and I guess it was easy to nip across, do a bit of robbing and go back. My father never said how they met or where they met but I think she was left behind on a raid.

I liked well these men and understood their grievances. My ancestors had land and English nobles took it and now they were doing the same in Wales. I was accepted, as I knew their tongue, for my mother had taught me. After the battle I returned to the farm in Hereford and had to tell my mother, who loved my father dearly, that her husband had fallen in battle. My mother left and went home to Wales, but I never knew where because she never said where she came from. Without my parents there was no reason to stay, as I had no ties and no home, so I would go and fight with the rebellion.  Travelling around the middle of England I joined a group of archers from Cheshire, and we agreed to join the Percys in their fight against Henry IV.

The first time I saw Prince Henry was at the bloody battle of Shrewsbury. He was wounded, but he fought on and we lost the day. It was only by running and hiding that I survived, and made my way back to Wales. I was with Owain Glyndwr when he took Harlech in 1404, and times were good. Then Prince Henry changed his tactics and instead of trying to chase us into Wales he used the castles he had to control trade, supply of weapons and movement of people and slowly he started to retake Wales. In the summer of 1409 he took Aberystwyth Castle, then he came for Harlech. Although the commander, Edmund Mortimer, sent for help none came and I made the decision to go. I was now a fugitive and on the run.

I headed back to England and my luck was in. I could speak English well, I could farm and I could hunt so I took work were I could find it. There were a few Lords and knights that would employ me, so I decided to become a mercenary archer - I was in it for the money. I met Lord Gerard de Rodes whilst serving in Flanders, and he told me that, should I need work, he could use an archer of my standing, especially in his dealings with the Welsh. Apparently he had a long standing dispute with Captain Nicholas Horton, about what I know not. I was soon to meet the Captain in France.

Prince Henry became Henry V, and offered a pardon to the Welsh that had fought against his father. I took it even though I was English by birth. I still had an affinity with those men of Wales, and with a pardon I was no longer a fugitive. However, I could see that being a mercenary archer was the best way to make my way in the world - so whoever paid the most gained my (brief) loyalty and my services.

In 1415 there was a rumour that the King needed men to go to France to help him regain his lands. I set out for Southampton, and I wasn’t the only one on that road. There were faces from my past. Faces I had fought with in battle, shared ale with and laughed with. Some I would fight with again, some would not return. When I got to the docks there were vintners looking for archers for their Knights, and suddenly I was going to France with Sir John Cornwall. We boarded our ship and set sail, heading for Harfleur, which the King had decreed should be besieged. That soon turned into a mess. The bloody flux (dysentery) got us and we lost nearly half our number. Once Harfleur had fallen Henry decided that we should march to Calais. The French had other ideas and stopped us at a place called Agincourt, where we would have to fight or die. We fought on St Crispin and St Crispinians day October 25th. We fought well, the French died bravely, but the day was ours and God was on our side. I left for Calais with my spoils soon after the battle. I knew I would be back as Henry had only just started his campaigns in France. Once back in England I headed to Wales, my adopted homeland. I needed to look for someone. Sir Gerard de Rodes owed me money from Flanders.