Rescuing Lady Badlesmere

Hugh was glad to be rid of the stench and noise of London. Even without the heat of summer, and at such an early hour, the clamour and mixed odours of rotting food and excrement coming from Cheapside were enough to induce a bout of nausea. An hour past Prime and already people were up and about, setting up their stalls or else looking to buy bread and meat for their master’s table. Any group travelling in or out of the city attracted the curious attention of the city’s children and Hugh’s was no exception: after all, a wealthy lord and officer of the king would surely have some spare money to be tossed out as alms.

Turning into Bishopsgate Street, the roadway widened a little allowing his chamberlain, Clement to ride up next to him.

‘Your almoner is having a busy time of it this morning my lord. Even the weather hasn’t driven the poor wretches indoors.’

Hugh smiled. ‘I think it would take more than a bit of drizzle to keep them from the chance of catching a coin. Mind you, once they’ve got one they’ll probably find the nearest tavern and stay dry anyway. In the meantime we get cold and wet – our repayment from God for our charity.’

Clement looked up at the narrow strip of grey sky that showed between the leaning upper storeys of the houses. 'We should reach Waltham Abbey by noon. At least the abbot is known for his hospitality – and warm guest rooms.'

Hugh laughed. Clement was one of those men who grumbled all the time about the cold, even though he was the same age as his master. Hugh knew he had been loathe to leave the comfort and familiarity of his rooms in the Tower and was dreading the long journey up to York where the Edward and the rest of the court had based themselves. Although Hugh preferred travelling in the dry, he was far more used to the cold, wind and rain than his urbane officer. The restless part of him that sometimes felt trapped within the close and poisonous air of the court felt a sense of freedom from being in the saddle; it reminded him of the days when he could ride out by himself and seek solitude among the trees and fields of his father’s lands. These past two weeks in London, without the distractions of court life had been rather dull and lonely but Edward had desperately needed those manuscripts from the Tower and Westminster in order to be able to effectively sue for a truce with the Scots. And Hugh was the only person he trusted enough to fetch them.

Now he was Edward’s chamberlain, travelling light and fast was no longer an option: his party consisted of two of his sergeants, a squire and twenty-five men at arms acting as his bodyguard. Then there were the rest of his essential household: his chamberlain, steward, chaplain, almoner and cook as well as a couple of clerks. The baggage was carried in three wagons, each pulled by four horses. The numerous horses meant that grooms were also in attendance, as was a herberer and a marshal. All in all an organisational nightmare although, thankfully, not anywhere near as bad as the king’s.

They passed through the narrow opening of the Bishopsgate in pairs, the carts trundling through last of all. The gate warden nodded to them briefly then retreated to his brazier in the lea of the arch. Beyond the ditch stood the small hamlet of Bishopsgate Without with its church of St Botulph and the priory of the Order of the Star of Bethlehem. Opposite them, as if in provocation, stood the Pie Inn, a hostelry with a low reputation. This morning, although some drovers stood drinking outside, having already disposed of their stock at market, the whores were still abed, no doubt recovering from the previous night’s exertions.

Now free of the city, Hugh felt he was able to breathe again. The air smelt of rain drenched foliage and mud, and somewhere he heard a woodpecker’s mocking laugh. Although every road had its share of robbers, they would not dare attack such a well-defended cortege, and he began to relax a little, stretching out his legs in their stirrups.

Despite the weather the roadway was in quite good condition for the time of year: no deep ruts to jolt a cart wheel into splitting, or deep water filled holes in which horses could stumble and break a leg. The repetitive scenery of trees, small villages and fields worked a strange kind of magic on his mind, a trance in which time seemed to become compressed. He was almost surprised therefore, when the stones of Waltham Abbey arose before him. Clement trotted on ahead to make arrangements.

Hugh dismounted at the abbey’s gatehouse, and was handing the reins of his horse to Janekyn when a shout made him turn: Clement was running towards him from the abbot’s quarters, the abbot himself following a little more sedately.

‘My lord, you are needed. There has been a serious incident.’

‘Here?’

‘No, my lord: at Cheshunt, a few miles away. Father Richard will explain.’

Hugh walked back with him towards the abbot who beckoned them both to follow him inside. Once within his rooms, he gave a hasty blessing and greeting and then indicated for them to sit.

‘My chamberlain says there is a problem?’ Hugh began.

The abbot nodded and pointed to a man sat in the corner, wearing servant’s livery and shivering. ‘Not more than an hour ago this fellow came in from Cheshunt with some terrible news. The manor of La Motte has been attacked and seized by a gang of thieves and brigands. The man says that they have taken as their prisoner a great lady – Margaret Badlesmere.’

Hugh shot a look at Clement. ‘Lord Badlesmere’s wife? Then they are playing with very high stakes indeed.’ He looked at the servant. ‘How did you get away?’

‘They sent me out this morning my lord, with a demand for the lady’s release. I couldn’t think of anywhere else to come.’

‘What do they want?’

‘One hundred pounds my lord, and indemnity from prosecution.’

‘Indemnity be damned!’ Hugh spat out. Clement wriggled uncomfortably in his chair at the blasphemy but the abbot just smiled. ‘Indeed. I’m sure they will be. But first we need to rescue the lady from her plight. What do you suggest my lord, do we pay what they have demanded?

Hugh shook his head. ‘Not one penny. I shall take a troop of men up to this manor and make them see sense.’

‘Isn’t that a risk my lord?’ asked Clement. ‘What if they harm her.’

‘I’ll wager that when they attacked the place they either did not know she was there or else they did not know her identity. That they have continued with this folly is madness enough, but I really don’t think they will risk worse, especially when faced with armed men. It will be the last thing they are expecting.’

‘Then why did they make the demand in the first place?’

‘They would have hoped that the abbey, having no soldiers itself, would be more likely to pay up than take the risk of a noblewoman being harmed.’

The abbot raised an appraising eyebrow. ‘Which was, of course the line we were considering before you appeared.’ He smiled. ‘It seems like God has truly answered my prayers for guidance in this matter.’

‘Then I ask that you don’t stop praying. This matter is far from over.’ Hugh turned to the servant again. ‘Do you know how many there are?’

‘I was in the kitchen when they came, sire. I only saw six of them, but I heard many more.’

‘Did you know them?’

The man nodded. ‘A couple of them for sure. They hid their faces under masks of rags and hoods, but I knew their voices: they were men from the neighbouring manor, the earl of Richmond’s men.’

Hugh frowned. ‘But Richmond would certainly have nothing to do with this: His grace the king would be furious with him if he did.’

The servant shook his head. ‘As far as I know sire, the earl has not been to his Cheshunt lands for a long time now. Maybe his men are just taking advantage of his absence.’

‘What defences does the manor have?’

‘It is moated, with a main gate and wooden palisade sire.’

‘Then we are not just going to walk in. Father Stephen, can you spare us some of your lay brothers, especially any that are handy with an axe. And I’ll need some strong rope if you have any.’

The abbot nodded. ‘Whatever we have here will be at your disposal my lord Hugh. And I’ll be sure to have some warm accomodation and food ready when you return. I’ll warn the infirmary too, although God willing you will not require its services.’

‘My lord, do you need me to accompany you?’

Hugh looked at the servant who was still shivering, although whether from cold or shock it was hard to tell. ‘No, you have helped us enough. Perhaps the good Father would be kind enough to place you near a fire somewhere and find a bowl of broth.

The abbot looked at the miserable man as if he had just seen him for the first time. ‘But of course! I was so anxious about your news that I have neglected your welfare, come with me.’ He ushered the servant out of the room, leaving Hugh and Clement alone.

‘Clement, I need you to organise the party of lay brothers for me. I need four axe men at least and find me that rope too. If you need me, I’ll be arming up in the courtyard.’

His men armed and mounted, supplemented by four men from the abbey, Hugh rode out of the abbey precincts and took the road towards Cheshunt. His group consisted of twenty men at arms and two archers as well as his sergeants John le Keu and Adam de Sturmy and his squire, Janekyn: enough of a show of force, Hugh considered, for the task ahead. They kept to an easy canter and soon reached the manor which was just as the servant had described. What he hadn’t said though, was just how badly in need of repair it was: the wood of the palisade and gate looked rotten enough to be caved in with a kick.

He sent the lay brothers off to fell a suitable tree and fashion it into a battering ram. The he sent John le Keu up to the gate. His sergeant hammered on the wood. At first there was no answer, then an arrow flew from the palisade over their heads, landing in the grass beyond. As all eyes fixed on where it had come from, a head ducked down behind the wood.

‘Fall back,’ Hugh shouted and, as one, the men retreated to where they judged was beyond the range of the archer. Le Keu realising what danger he was in, ran like a man possessed back to their lines.

‘God’s teeth!’ Hugh exclaimed as his sergeant reached him, ‘the arrogant bastards! Do they think they can take us on and win?’

Le Keu, still panting from his run, gave an appraising look at the palisade. ‘I think they’re desperate precisely because they know they can’t win. I’ll wager they only have one archer with them – two at the most – and nowhere near as well trained as ours. They are trying to bluff it out: see if they can frighten us away.’

‘With one arrow?’ Hugh snorted. ‘They’ll have to try better than that!’ He called out behind him: ‘Is that battering ram ready yet?’

‘Yes my lord,’ answered one of his men. ‘It’s coming through now.’

The ram was made from what looked to Hugh like a young oak. It wasn’t the thickest one he had ever seen, but then it didn’t need to be. Five lengths of rope had been wrapped around it at intervals to form a sling and so would only need ten men to operate it.

Hugh motioned to John, Adam and Janekyn to come close. ‘Adam, I want to you station our archers to give cover to the men on the ram. If anybody’s head pops up over that palisade I want it taken off. John, I’m putting you in charge of the ram. Janekyn, you will come with me when the gate is breached.’

They nodded and went away to organise their various parties. At Hugh’s command, the ram party picked it up and carried it forward to the gate.

‘You have one more chance to surrender’, Hugh shouted out. As if in reply another arrow winged its way from the manor before ploughing harmlessly into a puddle before the gate. It was answered by a volley from Hugh’s archers, several of the arrows ploughing into the palisade whilst others overshot into the manor grounds. They did not appear to hit their target, but the man on the other side would be left in no doubt that if he tried to aim at them again it would be his last attempt.

Hugh raised his hand and the battering ram swung into action, the men picking it up by the ropes and starting it swinging, until its arc was big enough to connect with the wood of the door. The first contact split the air with the sound of splintering and the gates appeared to bulge inwards. The second swing burst them open completely, to a huge cheer. John ordered the men to stop and they dragged the ram to one side to allow the horses through before following on behind.

Hugh and Janekyn led the charge into the manor grounds. Hugh, gripping his axe, swung his head left and right, trying to find a target through the narrow slit in his helm, but all he could see were his own men. Drawing his horse in a circle he scoured the palisade for the archer but he had vanished, seemingly along with the rest of the miscreants. He lifted his visor and found Janekyn.

‘The bastards have fled. Take Adam’s troop and scour the grounds; they can’t have gone far.’

‘They could be in the house sire,’ John le Keu strode up to him.

‘In that case we really could have a fight on our hands. Handpick your best men and tell them to prepare for close quarter combat.’

Hugh had expected the door to the house to be locked and barred from the inside. Instead, when John gave it a little push, it opened easily. The great hall was empty, quiet, although the furniture was overturned and the place had been stripped of anything that looked remotely valuable. Stepping cautiously inside the men headed for the kitchen, leaving a couple of their number to stand guard in case the malefactors returned. Inside the kitchen they found several of the servants, dressed in the same livery as the one at Waltham abbey, huddled in a far corner obviously in fear. Some were crying and some, from their bruises and wounds had been beaten. But upon seeing Hugh’s surcoat, and realising that they were safe, a woman detached herself from the group and threw herself at Hugh’s feet. John gently picked her up from the floor.

‘It’s alright mistress, nothing can harm you now. We’ll see to it that you and your friends will be looked after.’

‘It’s not me I’m worried about my lord, it’s my mistress, Lady Badlesmere. I haven’t seen her since they locked us down here.’

Hugh looked at her, making her drop her gaze. ‘What is your name good woman?’

“Margey sire. Margery de Solesfont, one of my lady’s damosels.’

‘Well Margery, I can tell you that we are going to see if your mistress is unharmed now. Perhaps you will attend on her afterwards?’

‘Thank you sire, oh thank you…’

‘Just make sure you wait behind us until we know that it is safe.’

Hugh took the wooden stairs up to the solar two at a time. As before there was no sign of any of the attackers. Just outside the door, he resheathed his sword and pulled his dagger instead: far more use in a cramped situation, if needed. Taking a deep breath he rapped on the wood of the closed door. ‘My Lady Badlesmere, please open the door. You are safe, your attackers have fled.’

‘And who is it that says so?’ A strong female voice called back.

‘Hugh le Despenser, Lord of Glamorgan, Madame.’

There was a moments silence, then the door opened with a slight creak. Hugh saw a man’s face, cut and bloodied through the crack. Seeing that it was not a trick, the man opened the door wider and bowed as he ushered Hugh in.

Lady Badlesmere sat stiffly on a stool by the cold fireplace, as if somehow her mere presence could bring it to life. Three of her ladies sat next to her looking pinched and miserable with fear and cold. She rose to her feet and performed a perfect curtsey.

‘My Lord Hugh, you have my greatest gratitude for coming to our aid. It has been quite an ordeal and my poor chamberlain, Robert de Assheburgham has been quite badly injured.’ She waved her hand at the man who opened the door. He looked away embarassed and then limped over to a travelling chest as if he needed to be seen to be busy.

Hugh nodded. Margaret Badlesmere was just as he’d last remembered her: stiff with formality, full of more airs and graces than Isabella herself and a little over-plump. ‘I am glad that I could be of assistance. I have arranged rooms, food and for any injuries to be tended at Waltham Abbey my lady. You will be safer there.’

She drew herself up and managed to look indignant. ‘And you give me no choice in the manner?’

Gods teeth, he thought. All this and she still seeks to take issue with something? ‘No, my lady. Your safety is my first concern, as I’m sure your husband would concur. Your attackers may have run away but they could easily return when we leave.’

‘Then you did not catch them?’ The critical tone of her voice pricked Hugh like a thorn.’

‘Not… yet. My sergeants are downstairs taking names of people the servants here suspect were in the gang. We can do no more at the moment.’

‘Hmmph.’

‘Are your baggage wagons and horses stabled here?’

‘If those malcontent peasants haven’t taken them.’

‘Then I suggest you give orders to have them loaded up as quickly as possible. I for one am tired, cold and hungry – as I’m sure my men and your people are too. The longer we stand here arguing, the more they suffer. So please my lady, with all due speed.’

Without waiting for her leave, he swept out of the room only just restraining his anger. That women was unbelievable. Bartholomew had hinted more than once that she had become a nagging harpy since his rise to power. It was as if her own elevated status had brought out the very worst in her. These days he avoided her bed and company whenever he could – and now Hugh could understand why.


Hugh’s guest chamber at Waltham, although spacious, was not as big as he was used to. Nevertheless, it was a luxury to have a few moments to himself in front of a fire. His men were detailed to the abbey’s guest dormitories, leaving him to share his quarters only with Clement and Janekyn. Two men at arms were stationed outside his door, but he made sure they were provided with warm clothing and a flagon of wine to get them through the long hours. At present, Clement was supervising the drying of his cloak and gambeson. Janekyn had taken his hauberk to dry and oil it in the company of the other men. For once he was alone, his belly was full of hot pottage and no-one needed him – for now at least. He allowed himself to relax.

There was a knock on the door and one of the men at arms poked his head inside. Hugh sighed: he should have known that his moment of peace wouldn’t last long.

‘My Lord, Lady Badlesmere is outside and wishes to see you.’

Hugh cursed under his breath. This was all he needed – another round of ungrateful abuse. He nodded at the man to send her in.

Margaret Badlesmere swept past Hugh’s guard, giving him a withering look of disdain for not letting her through straight away and dropped to a low curtsey in front of Hugh.

‘My Lady, is there something wrong that you should seek me out at this hour? Are your chambers uncomfortable?’

He braced himself for the expected torrent of complaints but none came. Instead she gave him a wide smile which unfortunately displayed a row of blackened teeth. ‘My Lord Despenser, I have come to apologise for my earlier behaviour. It was most ungracious of me.’

Yes, it was, he thought but instead adopted his courtier’s mask. ‘Say nothing of it my lady. I expect it was the shock of what happened. Is your chamberlain alright?’

‘Yes. The brothers here have tended his wounds – and those of the other servants, for which I am most grateful. As I am most grateful to you also.’

The words were polite, formal and even kindly considering the speaker, but as Hugh looked at her face, her eyes, he saw something else – a glowing look of adoration.

‘I’m sure any man of honour would have done the same madam.’

‘Even so. I am in your debt. May I impose on your goodness one more time and request that you escourt me to York? After everything that’s happened I would feel much safer under the protection of your sword.’ Dear God, the woman was almost purring, Hugh thought.

‘Of course madam. I was going to suggest it anyway. Now, is there anything else I can do for you?’ He hoped she would take the hint that he wanted to be on his own.

‘You have already done enough my lord. But… if there’s anything I can do for you…’

She left the sentence hanging but her meaning was quite clear. Hugh swallowed hard – was he having a nightmare? He wished fervently that Clement would return but he knew that his chamberlain had probably taken the opportunity for a gossip with the lay brothers in the kitchen.

He chose to ignore her previous remark. ‘Madame, it grows late and I need to get some sleep. It has been a long day and we have many miles ahead.

‘Yes, many miles Sire. Plenty of time for us to get better acquainted I hope.’ She gave him another flash of her decayed teeth, curtseyed again and took her leave.

Hugh stared after her in disbelief for a second and then rubbed his hand across his face. Christ, he preferred her when she was being a bitch. Now she was a bitch on heat – and for him. With any other woman, as long as she was fair to look at, he might have considered her offer – but try as he might, he could only find her repulsive in both looks and character. And he was to spend the next week or so in her company, God spare him.