The struggle for the throne, and for the control of Wales, continued for over a decade following Henry Bolingbroke’s coup of 1399, his deposition and murder of Richard II and his own assumption of the throne as King Henry IV. The unrest, plotting and open rebellions were the result of the weakness of the new regime, and to some extent the well-grounded doubts of both Henry and many of his new subjects as to the king’s right to the throne. As a result, Henry was confronted by an array of opponents both at home and abroad. It was not until 1409 – ten years after his accession – that, worn out with years of tension and crisis, a sickly Henry could feel reasonably secure.
Of his opponents, the most immediately dangerous to Henry were always those within England itself. While the Scots might raid and plunder the northern counties, Glyn Dwr’s ‘Children’ dominate much of Wales and make forays into the Marches, neither of these foes were likely to overthrow the new regime. However, the supporters of former King Richard – some of whom still believed their master to be alive or had transferred their allegiance to his favoured heir, Edmund Earl of March – were a more serious threat, with their constant plotting and assassination schemes.
When, by early 1403, the king’s opponents grew to include the powerful Percy family – kingmakers in 1399 and masters of much of the north – the crisis became acute, with control of England hanging in the balance. While the earlier battles of the struggle (notably Bryn Glas and Homildon Hill) were of major importance in the long-running border war with Scotland, and the struggle for Wales, the campaign of July 1403, which climaxed at Shrewsbury, would decide the fate of the throne of England.
Most historians agree that the Shrewsbury campaign was a close-run thing for King Henry. He was probably fortunate in that, by his decision to march to the assistance of the Percys in their Scottish campaign, he had unwittingly triggered Hotspur into acting unilaterally, or at least prematurely, before his father or Glyn Dwr could assist. Hotspur was forced to stake everything on the support he could muster in Cheshire. This left him in a position of numerical, though not qualitative, disadvantage. Though the details are obscure, it seems that the rebels suffered a further blow when Thomas Percy, Earl of Worcester, failed to take Shrewsbury and capture Prince Henry. Though he brought a considerable number of the prince’s troops over to the rebel cause, the prince and the remainder were able to hold Shrewsbury until King Henry marched to their assistance.
So far as the strategy of the campaign was concerned, the royalists hardly put a foot wrong. The king’s initial inclination to pull back towards London and enlist additional forces was correctly opposed by George Dunbar, Scottish Earl of March, who prevailed on Henry to move rapidly against Hotspur with the aim of bringing him to battle before he could be reinforced. Once Hotspur failed either to take Shrewsbury or to be reinforced by Glyn Dwr or the Earl of Northumberland, his rebellion – barring good fortune – was doomed. With the royalist army close on his heels, he had no option but to stand and fight.
The Battle of Shrewsbury horrified contemporaries, not only because it was the biggest action of its kind fought on English soil for half a century, but because it was an internecine conflict, which set Englishman against Englishman, and indeed Cheshireman against Cheshireman. And the scale of slaughter was such that chroniclers recoiled with disbelief. Although we cannot tell how many fatalities resulted from it, the spectacle of the ‘arrowstorm’ employed for the first time on a large scale by opposing armies, seared the imaginations of those who witnessed or heard about it. So far as the conduct of the battle itself is concerned, Hotspur is sometimes condemned for his ‘rashness’ in leaving his ridge-top advantage in an attack on the royalist army – yet he had little alternative. Once their supply of arrows was exhausted, the rebels were likely to be overwhelmed by sheer weight of numbers. Hotspur’s only real hope of snatching victory lay in the tactics he actually adopted: disrupting the opposing army as much as possible by means of the ‘arrowstorm’, then launching an attack aimed at exploiting and widening the disarray, and if possible, killing or capturing King Henry himself. Judged by these criteria, Hotspur had a fair degree of success. His archers routed a significant part of the royalist army, but Hotspur’s hopes of following this up by disposing of King Henry were thwarted by the royalist use of at least one decoy wearing the royal heraldic device, and by the king’s distinctly unchivalrous – but highly realistic – decision to heed the advice of Dunbar and quit the worst of the mêlée until the crisis was over. Only the action by whoever by then was in command of Prince Henry’s wing of the army in taking the rebels in flank and rear, which might have happened anyway given the royalists’ superiority in numbers, displays evidence of any particularly outstanding leadership on the royalist side.
It is often said that Shrewsbury played a major role in the military education of the future King Henry V. But pitched battles were a minor part of fifteenth-century military operations. Henry would fight only one other – Agincourt – in the course of his life. It was the long campaign in Wales, with its problems of supply, communications and siege warfare that taught Henry and his fellow commanders the tactics they would later employ with success in France.
Counter-factual history is always a risky subject. But it is tempting to consider the likely results if Hotspur had won at Shrewsbury. Despite the cries of ‘Henry Percy King!’ set up by some of his men during the battle, there was no realistic possibility that the Percys would have been accepted by the bulk of the English magnates as a replacement for the Lancastrian royal house. The succession would have gone to Edmund, Earl of March, still a minor, and the terms of the later Tripartite Indenture would probably have been put into effect, at least in de facto form. This was, in itself, a recipe for further conflict, and disagreement between Percys, Mortimers and Welshmen was inevitable. Prolonged conflict along the lines of the future Wars of the Roses would almost certainly have followed, with an uncertain outcome.
The real victors would probably have been the French, for without Henry V and England divided and at war with itself, there would have been no Agincourt or English conquest of Normandy.
Bryn Glas and Homildon Hill are both largely given over to agricultural purposes. A good view of the eastern slopes of Bryn Glas Hill, where the bulk of the fighting took place, can be had from the churchyard of St Mary’s Church, Pilleth. A number of those killed in the battle are buried there, and others in a mass grave marked by the row of Wellingtonia trees.
At Homildon Hill, the high ground occupied by the Scots is clearly visible from the road that lies along the probable line of the English advance.
At Shrewsbury, the 600th anniversary of the battle in 1403 was marked by the development of the Battlefield Park. There is a useful observation mound, from where the battlefield may be viewed, near the Visitors’ Car Park on Battlefield Way, off the A41. Clearly-signposted trails, with information panels at intervals, allow the reasonably active visitor to explore the most likely battlefield area. Battlefield Church is also worth a visit, as is the exhibition area and refreshment facilities at nearby Battlefield Farm.