I saw perhaps three thousand men – our reserve – charge down the hill and across the bridge, to be met by Northampton’s forces. Many houses along Holme Street were ablaze, whether fired deliberately or accidentally I did not know. Our men advanced, and I saw the crowd move west, into St Martin’s Plain, where the melee continued a long time. Around midday Northampton’s forces must have given way, for suddenly I saw a great rush of men run to Tombland, then down towards the castle.
LATE IN THE AFTERNOON , men began trudging back up the hill, weary and limping, faces and clothes covered in blood and dirt, dragging their weapons. They were fewer than I had watched descend yesterday, and at first I feared casualties were huge, but later Natty told me many men had stayed behind in Norwich with the Ketts, to secure the city and arrange for the wounded to be tended. It was from him I learned that around four hundred of our men had died, and perhaps half that number from Northampton’s army, which, after losing the Battle of Palace Plain, had fled wholesale. As evening fell we sat, with many others, looking down on Norwich. Holme Street was still on fire, and I could see smaller fires elsewhere in the city. I remembered that much of Norwich had burned down thirty years before, and feared the same might happen now. Josephine had joined us with Mousy, and for the first time in days wore a contented expression, for Natty had reported that he had seen Edward, quite safe, together with Michael Vowell and Toby Lockswood, who all seemed unharmed, in a group around Robert Kett outside the cathedral. Edward had called to Natty to tell Josephine he was well, the city secured and Northampton’s army fled.
Mousy had fallen asleep on my lap as Natty told us his story quietly. ‘I wasn’t in the first attack, the night one, that was mostly men with knowledge of the city who could go more easily through the darkened streets. Much of Northampton’s army was camped in the marketplace, with a huge bonfire lit so they could at least see the entrances to the surrounding streets, the rest of his men on patrol.’
I remembered that Isabella Boleyn’s and Chawry’s inn gave on to the marketplace. ‘What of the people in the buildings round the square?’
‘They did what you’d expect – locked their doors and shuttered their windows. From what I heard, nobody there was hurt, Northampton’s army was just yagged by our people in the city crying out, “To arms, to arms!” to scare them, but when we attacked them, despite the darkness in the streets favouring us, we lost many, while they had but few killed.’
While he spoke, Natty kept glancing round at Surrey Place, where the naked body of the Italian still hung. I told him what had happened to the mercenary. He shrugged. ‘They killed plenty of ours.’
Josephine sighed. ‘Fighting changes men, I saw it as a child in France. They become brutal.’ She looked down at the fires in Norwich. ‘And they burn homes, as they did my parents’ village.’ For a moment we were silent. Then Natty resumed his story.
‘This morning we launched the main attack. First, though, friends of ours in the city told Northampton a large group of rebels was gathered at Pockthorpe Gate. We hoped he’d be fooled into sending part of his force there. He only sent a few men, though, with the Herald and his trumpeter. The sound of the trumpeter brought some of our men down from the hill – the Herald offered a pardon again if we’d disperse, but was told we weren’t rebels, we were loyal to the King, they were the ones holding the laws of the realm in contempt.’
‘As they are,’ Josephine said.
Natty grinned. ‘He got a right old telling! Then just afterwards we set off the bombardment to put down the hospital walls, and charged across Bishopsgate Bridge. That was the real battle.’ His voice quietened. ‘Something like I’ve never seen. By God our men were brave; they never flagged. I heard Master Fulke killed the Earl of Sheffield in Holme Street. We battled our way to Palace Plain, the open space by St Martin’s Church. Their main force was waiting there. They fired off half a dozen cannon at us, then it was a pitched battle. The Italians did better than Northampton’s English troops, a lot of those had been mustered by the local landlords, they didn’t have our fierceness.’ He closed his fist tightly. ‘It was that which won the battle for us, that and our numbers and skills with the bow – thank God we spent last week training together.’
