We arrived at St Bartholomew’s Church in Tong at the same time as a dozen or so of Cromwell’s soldiers, they took up most of the pews at the back of the church. But I could see no weapons.
At first I did not recognise Thomas, I don’t think even his own mother would have recognised him. His beard and moustache had been trimmed and combed, and with a Canterbury cap on his head Thomas’s disguise was truly amazing; he also wore a surplice over a long cassock, a clergyman’s collar and a wonderful velvet tippet. I was even more amazed and a little proud of him when he took the service.
I tried to concentrate on his words but I could not stop thinking about King Charles, stuck in the trunk of a tree with the enemy only inches away.
***
We could see Charles waiting for us on the steps of Boscobel House with a smile on his face, standing with legs apart, hands on his hips.
‘You survived then,’ called Sir Hugo. ‘How did you find the tree hide, large enough was it?’
‘Adequate but a little cramped, and a couple of squirrels were not too pleased at me standing in their food store.’
‘What about the soldiers?’
‘I thought they would never go, but in the end I am glad they didn’t… come inside. I will tell you what I heard.’
Alice took off her bonnet and then mine, smiling mischievously. ‘It will be in my room if you want it,’ she whispered… she then tied a ribbon in my hair and left the room still with a broad smile on her face.
‘Thomas said to tell you that he will be staying at the vicarage tonight, he will be back here tomorrow morning.’
‘Never mind Thomas for the moment, I have some disturbing news for you Toby.’
‘For me?’
‘While I was in the tree I listened to the Roundheads talking, I couldn’t make out all they said but I did hear quite clearly them make reference to one of their officers. It appears they were asked specifically to look out for a thirteen-year-old boy who answers to the name of Toby. They called to their officer, Commander Leeson.’
I shivered at the sound of his name, and asked myself for the hundredth time: Why me, what could I have possibly done to provoke such hatred?
‘Try not to worry Toby, he’s not going to find you, and when I am restored to the throne… whenever that might be I will find and punish him.’
‘I just want to know why he hates me so.’
I hardly slept a wink for thinking about the mysterious Commander Leeson, and his obsession for my destruction, what could someone as lowly as me have done to incite such loathing?
The following morning, Thomas arrived early with encouraging news about Paul Cullum and his companions.
‘This is what I heard. In the dead of night while most of Cromwell’s men were sleeping, King Charles and the remnants of his beaten army murdered two guards, wounded two others and stole some horses. They then set fire to a dozen or so tents.’
‘I did all that in my sleep?’ asked Charles.
‘We did Charles… all of us. Anyway shortly after daybreak, the whole camp apparently packed up and headed east towards Coventry in pursuit.’
‘East… they are going east?’
‘Chasing us, and if they are going east, then perhaps we should start thinking about going west.’
***
I enjoyed my time at Boscobel House. Sir Hugo was a wonderful host, George was always there with help and advice, cook wanted to keep feeding and hugging me, and Thomas was at the vicarage with the parson most of the time. I think he secretly enjoyed being a vicar and I had to admit that he was good at it. I liked Alice, she was always tactile and flirty, but to be truthful I think I was just a little scared of her at the same time. One morning while I was still in bed, she came into my room early with some new clothes for me to try on. Her hair was loose and she was wearing a low-cut white nightshirt and nothing on her feet. She placed the clothes on a table by the window, and stood facing me with her legs apart, the light from the window behind her creating a silhouette of her nakedness. It was clearly a show stage-managed for my benefit. She then walked slowly towards me leaning forward to expose her breasts and asked: ‘Is there anything else I can do for you while I am here Master Toby?’
Feeling embarrassed and a little stupid I stammered: ‘No thank you Alice.’
She laughed, spun round sending her hair flying, then left my room still chuckling to herself… having achieved her aim which was to arouse in me a feeling I had only experienced once in my life before. But that time was different, that time it was with Anne.
After a few days Alice seemed to lose interest in me, and later in the week I realised why. I caught Charles coming out of her room early in the morning.
‘There’s no reason I can’t have a bit of fun while I am here is there Toby?’
‘Certainly not my Lord… just as long as you don’t catch something nasty that you later come to regret.’
I spent my time at Boscobel Manor reading books from Sir Hugo’s collection, grooming his two horses and on a couple of occasions, helping Alice.
When he could find the time George played a few games of chess with me.
Thomas only slept at the vicarage, but always came back to the house for at least part of the day to be with Charles, and to check on me. We had seen nothing more of the soldiers, so after a week it was decided that it was time to move on; we did not want to outstay our welcome and I think we were all getting restless.
That day came earlier than I had anticipated when I was invited to sit in on their meeting.
‘Toby… we have decided to leave at the weekend, probably during Sunday night. We plan to follow the River Severn down to Bristol and from there to the Isle of Wight. You are an important member of the team so is there anything you would like to add?’
Part of my education touched on geography and with me living most of my life by the Thames my personal interest was rivers and boats.
‘You have chosen the most direct route but have you chosen the safest? The Severn goes through all the major towns and cities which is where we would be most likely to come across Cromwell’s Roundheads.
‘Worcester would be the first place, and that is where just over a week ago we were driven out of town like rats down a drain.’
‘I take your point Toby but I don’t like the analogy.’
Charles nodded.
‘Then there’s Tewkesbury, Gloucester and Bristol: why would you want to go anywhere near Bristol… there’s a garrison there with hundreds perhaps thousands of soldiers?’
‘What do you suggest?’
I was slightly surprised that the King of England would ask advice from me.
‘Why not head for the Welsh borders and then south through the countryside?’
‘You have obviously put some thought into it Toby. Show us… let us see your alternative route?’
‘My way will be safer but may take longer. I suggest that instead of heading south, we work our way round Worcester by going west for about twenty miles to somewhere near Shrewsbury. We then turn south and keep going until we find the River Wye. The Wye eventually joins the Severn south of Monmouth at Chepstow.’
Thomas stroked his beard and murmured more to himself than to Charles and me. ‘And if we can then find a boat to take us across the river to Somerset or Devon, we can avoid Bristol altogether.’
We talked on for an hour or so until George called us in for dinner, by which time we had already decided to put my idea to Sir Hugo.
‘There is a slight flaw in your plan Toby,’ said Sir Hugo, ‘it would take forever to get to Monmouth if you followed the River Wye… it meanders for miles and miles snaking across two counties. May I suggest a slightly different but more direct route?’
‘Please do sir.’
‘You could well find support from Stokesay Castle which is owned by Lord C
raven.’
‘Who’s he?’ I asked.
‘A loyal servant to our late King Charles. I was an official guest at Ludlow Castle when he was declared Prince of Wales.’
‘And do you think he would make us welcome?’ asked Charles.
‘I doubt Lord Craven will be there my Lord, but I would be surprised if you were not offered food and shelter by his estate manager… he may also suggest a quicker route south. However, if he does not, from Stokesay you could quite easily get back onto your original route, having already saved something like fifty miles.’
‘I am sure I remember my father talking about Lord Craven,’ said Charles. ‘But I can’t remember what it was about.’
‘I imagine he was talking about Craven’s relationship with your auntie, Elizabeth, Dowager Queen of Bohemia… your father’s older sister.’
‘What relationship?’
‘He is her lover my Lord. Craven is a man I don’t much care for but he is an English soldier, a nobleman and Royalist to the core, he supported you father during the civil war but now spends most of his time on the continent with Elizabeth.’
‘Was Stokesay Castle damaged by Cromwell?’
‘Not badly… though the castle was for a short time besieged. Craven was a keen Royalist, but he was not passionate enough to watch his home being destroyed, so he instructed his estate manager not to resist Cromwell.’
‘How do we get to Stokesay from here?’
‘It’s almost a straight line from here if you go along Wenlock Edge.’
‘Wenlock Edge?’
‘Wenlock Edge is a nineteen-mile long limestone escarpment hundreds of feet high. It starts just ten miles from here at Much Wenlock, and ends just five miles from Stokesay Castle.’
‘It sounds ideal, can you show me on a map?’
‘It’s the most direct route but not necessarily the safest, there is always going to be an element of danger. The safest route, Master Toby, would be through the Welsh countryside, but that would add at least a week to your journey.
‘During the civil war, Major Thomas Smallman of Wilderhope Manor almost lost his life fleeing from Cromwell along the Edge. He was alleged to have been carrying important documents for the king, and was galloping south along the Edge when he was ambushed by Parliamentary troops. Rather than being taken prisoner, he leapt off the Edge on his horse.’
‘What happened to him?’
‘His fall was broken by a tree and he survived, but his poor horse perished.’
‘Where is he now?’
‘He was never captured, and nobody seems to know where he is. But I imagine he is in hiding somewhere with friends or family.’
‘And yet despite Major Smallman’s experience you still think Wenlock Edge is our best chance?’
‘Travelling by night and on foot I think you should be safe enough, and if there are any Parliamentarian troops up there, they will most probably be stationed at each end. I will have our end of the Edge at Much Wenlock checked for soldiers before you go. There are parts of the Edge that are a sheer drop on one side and there are sections where it is steep and covered in forestry, the path along the top is good and mostly covered by a deciduous forest, so there will be plenty of places to hide. The River Onny runs parallel all the way along the North West side. When you reach the end, just follow the river for five miles to Stokesay. George will take you as far as Broseley when you are ready to leave.’
‘What do you think Thomas?’
‘I think we should risk a visit to Stokesay.’
We all agreed to include Stokesay into our plans, and decided to leave Boscobel House on Monday morning, early enough to be on the Edge before daybreak. I personally thought Thomas had chosen the time so he could take one more service at St Bartholomew’s on Sunday before leaving. And who were we to deny him doing something that he is so passionate about… something so dear to his heart.
Sir Hugo found more clothing for Thomas, the sort he thought appropriate for a farmer travelling with his daughter and her husband. I of course was the daughter and Charles my husband, but this time I did not have to wear pretty girlie clothes, this time I had a close fitting coif cap on my head, a long grey skirt under a plain bodice, and round my neck a kerchief held in place with pins.
We had ten miles to cover before we even reached Wenlock Edge, so we tried to snatch a few hours’ sleep before leaving Boscobel House at two in the morning.
Alice took great pleasure in dressing me, the smile only leaving her face when she scolded me for moving while she was trying to pin my kerchief.
Sir Hugo insisted on coming with us as far as the village of Broseley, from there we covered the last couple of miles on foot, following George across a narrow path through a field of corn.
Before leaving Boscobel House, the cook gave me such a hug I thought she was going to squeeze the life out of me. Alice kissed me on the lips… not a long loving kiss, just a friendly affectionate kiss, the kind of kiss you might give to your favourite brother. But I still found it extremely pleasing.
When she kissed Charles, it was different, it was long and passionate, and when the carriage moved away from the house along the gravel driveway I could see that she was crying.
Sir Hugo, wrapped up in blankets, insisted on waiting with the Vicar of Broseley All Saints Church. They wished us luck and the vicar said he would wait with Sir Hugo until George returned.
I could not hear the words of thanks Thomas and Charles spoke to Sir Hugo. But what words would ever be enough when you were thanking someone for saving your life? Not only saving your life but in doing so endangering his own.
We followed cautiously a hundred yards behind George through the town of Much Wenlock to where the path started to climb. Clouds were partially covering the moon but there was still enough light to make out Wenlock Edge a couple of hundred feet above us.
We waited, hiding behind a hedge until he reached the top and waved to us, which was the signal that all was well for us to follow.
‘Words and a handshake somehow does not seem enough,’ said Thomas to George.
‘No thanks are necessary sir. All I ask is that if at any time you return to Shropshire, you visit Sir Hugo. He is an old man and helping you has given him immeasurable pleasure. That is thanks enough.’
He then turned and was gone… hurrying down to the village where his Sir Hugo was waiting.
Walking in single file we set off at a brisk pace, I was leading as it was decided because of my age, my sight and hearing was probably the sharpest of the three of us. It started to drizzle but we all had new clothes and were well prepared, we were also less likely to come across an army patrol if the weather was poor.
We must have been walking for between four to five hours, and I estimated that we had probably covered a good ten miles, when I came to a clearing in the trees. Some logs had been laid out as seats and I sat down to ease my weary legs. When I looked back, I realised it was time to take a proper rest… Charles was only ten yards behind me but Thomas was almost out of sight… and when he did finally arrive, he sat down breathless and clearly exhausted. Collectively we decided to rest and take a drink.
The clouds had cleared, the rain had stopped, and we watched in silence the sun rising in the east. From our elevated position on Wenlock Edge, we were spellbound by the sheer beauty of the Shropshire countryside.
Evidence that summer was giving way to winter was all around us, the sun was low on the horizon creating long shadows off the trees that were already shedding their foliage, the trees on the steep sides of the Wenlock Edge were now a complex pattern of shades and colours ranging through red to gold and yellow… the fields below were covered in a hazy mist and there was a definite chill in the air.
‘Now that it is light, we have to make the decision as to whether we hide in the thick foliage a few yards down the side of the Edge un
til night-time, or to walk on?’
Charles looked at each of us in turn but said nothing, so I answered.
‘We have seen not a soul since leaving Much Wenlock, I am dressed as a woman, you are my husband, and Thomas is my father. Not an ideal situation for me… but I am prepared to accept the condition just as long as you don’t expect any marital favours,’ I said looking at Charles. ‘And as we look like a perfectly normal family, I think we should risk walking a little further.’
‘You flatter yourself if you think I could fancy you Toby.’
‘And I am sorry I ever married you.’
‘Stop squabbling children,’ said Thomas wagging a finger at us. We all then fell about laughing at our own childish play-acting.
We walked together, talking quietly but also trying to keep alert until we realised we must be close to the end of the Edge. In the distance I could just make out through the mist the outline of what I thought must be Stokesay Castle.
We had not seen any of Cromwell’s soldiers for forty-eight hours but we didn’t want to take any risks so we found ourselves a hiding place with a good view of the surrounding area and settled down to rest until nightfall.
‘We cannot go charging down to the castle, we must have some sort of a plan… Charles, what do you think?’
‘You are the brains behind this operation Thomas, I am just the King.’
‘What about you Toby?’
‘Well we have not seen any troops, and as I am the most expendable you could send me down first on my own, and see what happens.’
‘Out of the question. We keep watch until the afternoon, and if we still don’t see any troops we will go down together.’
‘How are our finances?’ asked Charles.
‘Not good, let’s hope your kin at Stokesay are at home and in a position to help.’
I checked my clothes hoping that Alice had packed at least one item that was not for a girl or woman… thankfully she had.
‘Can I change back into a boy again?’ ‘No you can’t,’ I was told.
Courtier in the Royal House of Stuart Page 14
