Thomas said nothing… he didn’t have to, the grin on his face said it all.
‘So now my Lord, you and Toby are the ones we have to disguise, and by the time my wife and daughter have finished dressing you… even your own mothers would not recognise you.’
‘I like your plan, but I am not sure if I will be able to deal with the cattle.’
‘It’s easy,’ I said. ‘You will soon get the hang of it.’
‘I do hope you’re right Toby.’
‘Your sister Mary sounds like an incredible woman, is she capable of cracking skulls?’ I asked.
‘I am sure she is, though I have yet to see her try.’
‘I can’t wait to meet her,’ said Thomas. ‘And her family.’
‘Her husband is called Francis and she has two sons, Matt and Will. The River Severn at Westbury is tidal and Francis has a boat. If he is willing to help… and the tides are right, you could well be on your way to Somerset before I even get to Gloucester Market on Saturday.’
‘He has a boat?’
‘Yes my Lord. He has a boat.’
‘And is there some doubt as to whether he will help us?’
‘None at all my Lord, he will not hesitate to jump at the chance to serve you. It all depends on whether the boat is already in use, he delivers cargoes as far as Cardiff. There is also the question of whether his boat is seaworthy enough to take you across the Severn Estuary. As far as I know he has never taken it that far before.’
‘It all sounds so simple.’
‘It is simple… but not without danger. You should all retire now and get a good night’s sleep. I would like us to be on our way as early as possible in the morning.’
Knowing that this was probably going to be the last time we were to sleep in a soft warm bed for a while, we slept well. Nevertheless, I was down in the kitchen before seven, Charles and Thomas a few minutes behind me. Thinking about the possibility of another boat trip excited me, and I was eager to be on my way.
After eating a large breakfast, Adam’s wife said to her daughter, ‘Jessie… you take young Toby, and I will do King Charles.’
I don’t know how a drover usually dresses, but Jessie fitted me out in old baggy clothes, probably because there was nothing my size in the house. She had an infectious giggle which came every time she stood back to inspect her work. Eventually I finished up with baggy breeches, held up with braces, a loose jacket tied at the waist that was once grey but now stained so badly it was hard to tell what the original colour was. I had boots on my feet that were far too big, and had to be padded out in the toe caps, and the ensemble was topped off with a silly looking woolly hat, which she pulled down to cover my ears. With her hands on her hips, and giggling like a child, she said, ‘Sorry, but you’re not as handsome as you were. Not now that you look like one of us.’ I had to giggle with her at the absurdity of the whole performance.
She then turned her attention to helping her mother with Charles. His disguise was much better than mine. The legs of his breeches were tied round the bottom with string, his coat was a dirty green and tied like mine around the waist. They made him fat by padding him out, and just in case we were ever challenged, they gave him two small balls to puff out his cheeks.
‘I have the perfect hat for him,’ said Jessie as she ran giggling out of the room, a moment later returning with a felt hat that looked more like an upturned bucket than a hat. Charles looked grumpy, but soon saw the funny side and then we all laughed together.
***
Our meagre personal belongings were buried somewhere in the cart with the fowl and pigs, which was being pulled along by a single horse.
Adam, now dressed as a friar, and Thomas, a parson, were both sitting in relative comfort under thick blankets when we eventually set off on our long trek across country to Westbury-on-Severn.
I enjoyed being a drover for a day, but would not have wanted to do it for a living. Charles was of little use, but that didn’t matter as I found that once I got the cattle moving, they just followed their leader. I think Charles was secretly a little scared of cattle. But I quite liked them… though I do think they must be the most stupid of animals to have ever walked this earth.
We had been walking for five hours with me doing most of the work, Charles walking in front, while Adam and Thomas sat in comfort looking down on us from behind.
I was grumbling about my big boots and Charles about his fat gut.
‘I’ll be glad to get rid of this annoying lump, I look as if I am pregnant,’ he said.
I couldn’t stop myself from laughing… he looked harshly at me at first and then we both sat by the roadside laughing together.
The cart soon caught us up, Thomas asking, ‘What was so funny?’
‘We have another fat King of England, but this one is a cattle drover… that’s funny.’
They both understood the analogy with Henry VIII, and joined us by the roadside for a short break.
I could not help wondering what kind of boat Adam’s brother-in-law owned, which also set me thinking about Jersey and my near-death experience on board the now burned out fishing boat resting forever at the bottom of the sea. I thought of my new friends Philip and Milly, and my old ones Louis and Anne. I worried about Anne, and wondered if she was still as unhappy now as she was the last time I saw her; if she ever thought of me as I do her. Would I ever get to see her again? Was she still living at Noordeinde Palace, and will she even remember me?
It took us eight hours to reach Westbury-on-Severn, by which time it was mid-afternoon. We herded the cattle through an open gate, past the farmhouse and into a corral. A farm-hand took the reins off Adam and walked the horse, still attached to the cart and trailer, round the side of the building and out of sight.
A large man, who watched us arrive, shut the gate behind us and embraced Adam.
‘Good to see you Adam. Come into the house, you can tell your men to rest in the barn, I will send one of the girls out with some hot food and ale.’
‘Before we do anything, I think you had better step inside,’ said Adam. ‘I have something important to tell you.’
We stopped just outside the door waiting to be called while Adam explained to his kin just who we were. I took off my woolly hat and Charles pulled the padding from under his coat with a sigh of relief.
‘Thank goodness I can rid myself of this lump,’ he mumbled.
We didn’t have to wait long before Adam called us into the house. ‘This is my sister Mary, her husband Francis and their sons, Matt and Will,’ he said.
Mary was tall for a woman, but not as tall as her brothers, she had a round happy face and the same distinctive colouring and mannerisms as her siblings.
Francis was tall with broad shoulders and thick arms, and I imagined he was probably as strong as a horse.
Mary curtsied and Francis knelt in respect. I found it quite humbling to see such a big man kneel in deference before Charles. Charles was a man who, over the last year or so, I had come to think of more as an older brother than the King of England.
‘My Lord, it is indeed a great honour to meet you. My family are at your command, anything that is within my power to give is yours.’
‘Is it within your power to get me and my two companions to Somerset without putting your own family in danger?’
He thought for a moment before answering.
‘High tide is just after midnight my Lord, if we leave then, with fair wind you could be in Somerset in two days.’
‘I place myself and my travelling companions completely in your hands Francis, we are just extremely grateful and thankful for any help.’
‘No thanks are necessary my Lord. I see it as my duty as a loyal subject to serve you. Come, I will show you my boat.’
I was delighted when I saw that it was just a typical wherry, like those used on the Thames
. It had a single sheet, winched from the bows with what I thought was an unusually high number of reef points. The galley and chart room were accessed from a rear door in front of the tiller.
Below, on the lower deck, was a store cupboard and sleeping area. The covers were off the cargo hold which seemed to be half full of timber, presumably waiting for more cargo. There was a punting quant on each side of the boat, which I thought must be essential working so far up stream.
‘What do you usually carry?’ Thomas asked as he climbed on board.
‘We are not farmers as you may have thought, we are freelance cadgers, the middle men between the local farmers and the markets. We are flexible about what cargo we carry, and as long as we get paid we will take anything. But it has to be between here and Cardiff.’
‘Have you never been farther than Cardiff?’ asked Thomas.
‘Not on this boat sir. But for the next week me and my son Will are taking a short break… we plan to go fishing with friends in Somerset and while we are out there enjoying ourselves, Matt will be helping Adam to get his cattle to Gloucester.’
‘What about the pigs and fowl?’
‘I have bought the pigs off Adam and I have a buyer for the chickens.’
***
Using the punting quants, Will and I pushed the wherry off its mooring just after midnight, Francis was on the rudder, with Thomas and Charles by his side.
Will and I kept the boat moving straight and close to the starboard side of the river until the tide was fast enough to do the job for us. We then sat in the chart room and talked. Will was about the same age as me but perhaps a little heavier. I think he felt intimidated in the company of Charles, and attached himself to me, which was fine as I found him to be interesting company.
‘How did a commoner such as yourself become so close to the king?’ he asked as we each sat sipping from a jug of ale.
I told him everything I could remember, starting with the time I saved the king’s life when he was the Prince of Wales.
I told him about Noordeinde Palace, and the friends I had made there. About Jersey and the dogger fishing boat that set on fire as I swam for my life, and then about the other attempts on my life.
‘But what brought you here?’ he asked.
I then told him all about our ill-fated attempt to defeat Cromwell’s army in Scotland and our disastrous downfall at Worcester.
‘Such an adventure is hard to believe, and yet here you are alive and well… and now we are a part of your remarkable story… we are going to take you to Somerset. By the way, I must tell you that we once almost bought a dogger, but decided it was too large for the upper reaches of the Severn.’
The night sky was covered in cloud, and with no moon to light up the heavens, it was as black as jet.
As we drifted slowly and silently downstream I could just make out the navigation lights of one boat following in our stern, and at least two more ahead. There was also the odd flickering lights on the shore.
‘When do we use the sail?’
‘We won’t use the sail until tomorrow when we will be somewhere near Chepstow. The river is roughly three miles wide at that point but I think we may moor up before then, and wait for the tide to change… that’s up to my father, he’s the skipper.’
‘Your father said you were cadgers… what exactly is a cadger?’
Will looked at me and smiled. ‘The name is not meant in a derogatory way as you may think. We act as go-betweens, collecting dairy produce, livestock, cheese, vegetables and fruit, mostly from local farmers. We then sell them on in Gloucester, Monmouth or Bristol… in fact anywhere we can find a market. Occasionally we get a contract to move commodities like wool or timber. We are middle men that buy to sell on. We are cadgers.’
‘Will you sell on the pigs? I saw that you had some of your own.’
‘They’re all purchased off local farms, we slaughter them one at a time and my mother makes them into pies, pasties and sausages, all of which go to a shop in Gloucester. He buys all we can make… he would take more if we had the time to make them.’
‘Do you take them to Gloucester by boat?’
‘We only ever take the boat into Gloucester if we have a cargo to collect or deliver… we find it more convenient to use our carts for short journeys.’
We must have been talking for a couple of hours when we were interrupted by Will’s father who called, ‘Take the rudder for a spell William. When the tide begins to change, tie up and give me a call, I’m going to get my head down for a while.’
I followed him to the stern, where he took the tiller off his father. I assumed Charles and Thomas had already retired as they were nowhere to be seen.
‘Won’t you get tired, sitting out here all night on your own?’ I asked.
‘If I was lazing about in the warm chart room, I probably would… but not while I am outside on the rudder. Don’t worry about me, stay here for a while if you want, or get some sleep while you can.’
I stayed for a few minutes, but soon my eyes started to close so I joined my travelling companions. Nevertheless I was still amazed that I managed to sleep with all that was going on. Perhaps it was the gentle rocking of the boat or maybe I was just exhausted after a long day on the road.
I was awakened by Thomas with a hot drink and a pasty. We were moored up against a grassy bank a few yards from a dense forest. The land on our port side must have been about three miles away, but I had no idea where we were. Wherever it was though, it was strikingly beautiful.
‘Francis has decided to moor up until high tide, he wanted the river to be in full flow as we passed Bristol,’ Thomas explained.
‘Is he expecting trouble?’
‘He says not, he says that Cromwell partly destroyed the castle at Bristol so there shouldn’t be any trouble. However, there’s still a lot of soldiers billeted nearby so we won’t be stopping to admire the view.’
Will and I went into the forest to forage for food, it was a whole new experience for me and I was amazed by just how much we came back with, including hazelnuts, walnuts, garlic, berries and mushrooms, also some roots that I couldn’t identify.
Around about midday, we all sat together on the grass and feasted on what we had foraged, washed down with homemade cider.
‘That was food fit for a king,’ said Charles, as he flopped back on the grass.
‘Maybe some kings but not all I think,’ said Thomas disparagingly.
Charles looked at him critically but said nothing.
When we eventually pushed off from our moorings it was dark, and we had been on our way for a little over twenty-four hours. Francis was back on the tiller when Will raised the sail, and our small boat joined a small flotilla of traders and fishing boats, who like us were taking advantage of the fast moving tide.
It was a typical autumn night, damp and dismal with dark sky and occasional drizzly rain.
Most of the smaller vessels sailed into Avonmouth but we followed the seagoing ships and fishing boats into the widening Severn Estuary. We then shadowed the Welsh coast for roughly ten miles before changing direction due south, and headed for the North Somerset coast.
‘I am glad the sea is calm,’ said Francis, ‘I have never taken this bucket into such an expanse of water before.’
Knowing that we would soon be walking across country again, I snatched a few hours’ sleep… being wakened up eventually by the sound of voices.
I climbed on deck to see everyone else looking at land that was no more than half a mile away.
‘Where is that?’ I asked.
‘Clevedon, Somerset,’ said Will.
We hadn’t seen the sun for two days, but as we approached the Somerset coast, the sun was shining and the sea was calm.
Just before we landed, Will handed Thomas a parcel of provisions.
‘Mother made this up f
or you, she says there should be enough for two days.’
Thomas handed the parcel to Charles, and then taking Francis by the hand said, ‘We cannot thank you enough… you and all your family. But now I think you should leave before the weather changes.’
Charles then said, ‘My only hope is that sometime in the future I will be able to thank you all in a more tangible way.’
‘Go south from here to the village of Yatton,’ said Francis, ‘two miles beyond the village you will see a copse where you can hide. God be with you my Lord. We will all be praying for you.’
Early in the morning with about ten hours of daylight ahead of us was not the ideal time to be landing on an unfamiliar beach in Somerset, not with hostile soldiers looking for us. Nevertheless, rather than run and hide, we just stood watching in silence as Francis and William sailed into the morning mist, the orange sun floating low on the horizon in the autumn sky.
We were now on our own again, almost six weeks after leaving Boscobel House.
I think that after experiencing the trials and tribulations of the previous weeks, I was probably stronger and more resilient than at any time in my life, but being on our own was not a feeling I found easy to comprehend.
We spotted a small jetty a hundred yards along the beach… not an ideal place to hide but it was all we had.
The long hours we sat huddled under the pier were the longest hours of my life, I was bored and eager to be on the move.
When we did eventually leave our improvised hideout it was dusk, and as there seemed to be no one about, we cautiously set off on our journey south.
By the time we found the village of Yatton it was completely black and everyone was indoors, smoke was curling from every chimney, but the only sound we heard was the barking of a dog as we passed through his territory. A few minutes later we found a stream and followed it into the coppice… the one Francis had suggested we use as an overnight stop. But as we had only been walking a couple of hours, and were keen to make the most of what was left of the night sky… we continued on our journey south, skirting round the Mendip Hills, eventually stopping just north of Shepton Mallet. We had been walking for eight hours, and were not yet halfway to the south coast, nevertheless we decided to make camp, rest, take stock and plan our route.
Courtier in the Royal House of Stuart Page 18
