by Jack Elwin
CHAPTER 8 CAPTURED!
THE FISHERMAN PICKED up a couple of oars and led me down to the water’s edge, where a number of small flat-bottomed skiffs were drawn up, their ropes or painters tied to stakes driven into the mud. He untied one and pushed it into the water, and held it steady while I clambered in. It seemed too small for more than one, and even with only me in it seemed to bob about quite dangerously. However, the fisherman made me sit in the stern, with my bag between my feet, then he climbed in himself, skilfully balancing so that the skiff did not tip over. He rowed with short strokes and remarkably quickly we grounded on the far side of the Fleet. He stepped into the water and held the boat while I removed my shoes and stockings and also stepped out into knee-deep water. I gave him a coin and slithered over mud and shingle to a dry spot, where I cleaned my feet as well as I could and put on my stockings and shoes, while the fisherman rowed back across.
I could see the soldiers who had barred my way, but they did not seem to be taking any notice of me. However, I thought it wise to take the fisherman’s advice, and walked straight up and over the shingle bank, and then along near the sea, the bank hiding me from the soldiers.
It was hard going on the shingle, which shifted beneath my feet, so that at every step I seemed to slip back a little as well as moving forwards. Also it was about midday and the sun was beating down on my head. But I persevered until, after about three-quarters of a mile I thought I had gone far enough away from the soldiers, and climbed away from the sea over the bank. As I crossed over I looked along towards Portland, and tried to see if there were any soldiers posted as the fisherman had suspected. I could not see any, but they might be hidden. At anyrate I plodded on, hoping that if I was stopped I would be able to bluff my way past.
I had crossed the bank at the narrowest part of the isthmus that joins Portland to the ferry, the calm waters of the bay on my left contrasting with the choppy open sea on the side I had left. The going was much easier on the cart-track which led from the ferry to the Island. I decided that I would go first to Chesil, the fishing village at the base of the cliffs, and enquire if anyone had seen the cart I was looking for, and where the Castle carts were kept. I would then consider what my next move might be, for I could not see how I would be able to enter the Castle and, even if I managed that, how I could get the treasure out.
‘But surely,’ I thought, ‘I will be able to beg a night’s lodging in the village, and at least see how the land lies.’ For though the Portlanders have the reputation of disliking strangers, whom they call ‘kimberlings’, I had found the few I had met kindly true-hearted men.
I had almost reached the village without being stopped, and could see the road beyond rising steeply to the little town of Fortuneswell half way up the hill, the only place of any size on the Island, I believe, when three soldiers leaped over a wall and ran to forestall me. It was useless to run away, so I stood and looked at them.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ demanded the one who seemed to be the leader, a tall burly man with a harsh voice. He had thick black eyebrows that showed just below the rim of his helmet.
‘I’m going to the village, Chesil. Will you kindly let me go about my lawful business.’
‘Who are you? What’s your name, and what is your business?’
‘My name is Micah Judd. I’m an apothecary, come to practise my art on the Island here. So please let me pass in peace.’
‘Where are you from?’ he demanded.
It occurred to me that I did not know which side these soldiers were on. I had assumed when they stopped me that they were Cavaliers, but ordinary soldiers from either side looked much alike, and these might be Roundheads from the Castle, so I answered guardedly,
‘I was born in Dorchester, but I practise wherever I happen to be.’
‘And who are you going to see?’
‘I am making for Chesil village, as I said. I hope to find food and lodging there.’
‘He’s a spy, corporal,’ said one of the others, a young man with an unpleasant cast in his eye.
‘I certainly am not,’ I said, ‘I am, as I told you, an apothecary.’
‘But how did you get past the Cavaliers at the ferry?’ asked the leader. He had thin lips, which seemed twisted in a permanent sneer.
‘I got a fisherman to row me across some way from them.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ he said. ‘You will have to come along with us and see what Captain says.’
‘Where is he?’ I asked.
‘In the Castle, come!’
There was nothing for it but to go with them. But I thought, that’s where I’ve been wanting to go, and I may be able to find the cart there, if they’ve still got it, so this may be all for the best.
They led me round the shore of a lake or mere which was joined to the bay by a narrow channel, and filling up now with the rising tide. I could see Sandsfoot Castle quite clearly on the far side of the bay, and even saw a flash of sunlight reflected off the breastplate of a soldier on the gun-platform there. Ahead of me was the grey wall of Portland Castle, its gun-ports or embrasures dark rectangular holes, and the Parliament flag flying defiantly from the topmost pinnacle.
We marched up to the gate, where after the leader had talked to the gatekeeper through a grill the postern was opened and we went through. One of the soldiers seized my arm and dragged me into the guard-house, a dark long room with bare stone walls. He ordered me to sit on a bench and stood on guard outside the door.
I looked at the gatekeeper. He was not prepossessing. He had a scar across his face that made him look as if he was permanently angry. However, I tried to engage him in talk.
‘’Tis warm outside today. Good to come into the cool here and recover.’
Gatekeeper: ‘Huh.’
‘Are you comfortable here? Some of these old castles are not easy to live in, I believe.’
Gatekeeper: ‘Huh.’
‘Have you seen much fighting in these wars?’
Gatekeeper: ‘Uh-huh.’
After a few more attempts at conversation I gave up, and sat in silence, glancing at him from time to time while he pared his nails with a short knife and carefully avoided catching my eye.
At last there were footsteps and a sergeant entered followed by the leader of the group that had detained me.
‘So this is the spy you’ve caught, corporal,’ said the sergeant. ‘He looks an ill-favoured fellow, I must say.’
I daresay I did look travel-stained and weary after my morning’s adventures, but I felt annoyed at his remark.
‘I would have you know, sir,’ I said, rising to my feet, ‘that I am an apothecary of Dorchester, a most godly town, as I trust you’ve heard, and though I may look travel-worn I expected a better welcome than I have had so far.’
He changed his tone at that, and I felt I had gained some respect.
‘Dorchester, ha!’ he said, ‘a godly town indeed—or it was, for I believe it opened its gates to the enemy without a fight.’
‘Alas, sir,’ I said, ‘those of us of the godly party did our best, but our leaders deserted us. And we suffered pillage at the hands of Prince Maurice and his men.’
‘So you have escaped from Dorchester, and come to where you can have our protection?’ he said with a rather sour smile, and I did not feel I needed to correct him.
‘I certainly thought I would be safe among the soldiers of Parliament,’ I said.
‘But how can I know that you are not a spy?’ he asked.
‘For two reasons at least,’ I said, thinking quickly. ‘First, I did not attempt to approach this Castle or its defences: it was your own men who brought me here. And second, I told them I was an apothecary, and that is the truth. Look in my bag here and see my medicines for yourself, and you can try my skill if you have any sick or wounded among you.’
‘There might well be something for you to do here,’ he said in a more friendly tone, but then suddenly demanded roughly, ‘Why did the Cavaliers allow you to
come through their lines and across the water?’
‘They didn’t, as I told your men. I got a fisherman to row me across to the Chesil Bank well away from their guard-post.’
‘And your name, sir?’
‘Micah Judd.’
‘Right,’ he said in his more friendly tone, ‘you will have to see the Governor, but meanwhile I will take up your offer and try your skill. Several of my men have gone sick and keep vomiting.’
‘Bring me to them,’ I said, ‘and I will see what I can do. But please remember that there are many possible causes of sickness, and not all of them are easily cured.’
He led me across the courtyard to the main building or keep of the Castle. Inside the door a passage turned left and then almost immediately right before opening into the octagonal centre of the keep. This was divided by a partition wall to make a hall or large room with one long side on the left (the partition) and a number of short straight lengths on the right that followed the curve of the outer wall. The hall was rather dark, as the only light came from cross-shaped loop-holes, and there was a fireplace in one of the short walls at the far end.
We went through the hall and along another short bent passage which led to the kitchen. There two or three cooks were at work, and a boy was turning a long spit loaded with a row of chicken carcases in front of the fire. I only had a moment to notice this, for the sergeant led me up half a dozen stone steps and into a very long curved room where five great guns were pointed at the ports in the right hand wall. Some of the ports were covered with wooden shutters, and there was very poor light in the room—but enough for me to see six or seven men lying on straw mattresses laid on the floor beside the left hand or inner wall. There were a couple of buckets, and when I went closer to look I saw that they both contained vomit, which accounted for the foul smell in the place.
‘How long have they been ill?’ I asked.
‘Since last night, or rather since the early hours this morning,’ said the sergeant.
‘What did they eat or drink last evening?’
‘What we all had, the remains of the previous evening’s feast. We had had good foraging and found a dozen hens, ate half of them, and I think we’re having the rest tonight. But last night we just had the left-overs and some soup.’
‘The left-overs of the chickens you mean? Did you have them hot or cold?’
‘They were heated up again, but there were only a few scraps. Mostly we filled up with bread and soup.’
‘Nevertheless I suspect these men ate chicken scraps that had gone bad. I’ve come across this before, when chicken flesh has been kept, especially in hot weather such as we’ve been having, and then reheated for a second meal.’
‘What is to be done then?’
‘Let them drink plenty of water. See that it is from a good pure spring or well, and if you only have some that may be foul boil it before you give it to them. Add a little salt to the water, but not enough to spoil it. Let them starve until tomorrow, then give them a little gruel, until they can eat properly without being sick.’
He thanked me and relayed my instructions to the men in the kitchen.
‘You would do well to get your men to clean the kitchen thoroughly,’ I added, following him back down the steps and ignoring the black looks I got from the cooks. ‘And make sure all the water used in the kitchen and for your table is pure. Another thing which might help to prevent sickness is if your men keep themselves clean and free from lice, for I have noticed in the poor parts of town, where people are dirty and slovenly and eat poor food and live in squalor, there is more disease. I expect that is also true in a castle, where many men are crowded together, and it is hard for them to keep clean.’
By this time he was quite impressed by my abilities as an apothecary, and seemed to have forgotten that he had suspected me of being a spy. He led me back into the central hall and up more stone stairs that curved to the left. At the top he turned right, and led me through an oddly shaped room with a fireplace in one corner, and up a few more steps to the upper gun platform. This was open to the sky and had four more guns in place. From there we had a wonderful view over the bay. There were two or three fishing vessels in the distance, the long curve of Chesil Bank to our left, and opposite us, still very clear in the afternoon sunshine, Sandsfoot Castle.
‘You must stay with us overnight,’ said the sergeant, ‘and will, I hope, treat any other ills we have, and then if the Governor allows you may go on your way.’
We moved round the gun-platform, and I was able to look down into a corner of the castle yard—and had to keep a firm hold of myself or I would have cried out for joy. For there, drawn up against the wall and resting on their shafts, were two carts—and one of them was green with yellow wheels.
But at once my joy turned to disappointment, for how on earth would I be able to extract the treasure from its hiding place—assuming it had not already been found and removed—or, failing that, how could I make off with the cart? There were several oxen and some horses, stabled in a lean-to against the outer wall. But the garrison would never allow me to take their valued transport, even though both carts had probably been stolen from honest citizens.
However, I had accomplished a great thing in tracking down the cart at last, and I refused to lose hope. After all, I had had amazing good fortune all day, and some lucky chance might yet enable me to get hold of the treasure. For example (I thought) a foraging party might go out with the cart, and I might accompany it. I had wild ideas of possibly plying the foragers with drink and then opening the hiding place while they were in a stupor.
But meanwhile I had to be patient. The sergeant took me back the way we had come, but at the top of the main stairs he knocked on a door ahead of us, and being commanded ‘Come!’ he led me into the Governor’s quarters. These were much more luxuriously furnished than the rest of the castle, with hangings on the walls and good furniture. This room was evidently over the central hall, and much the same shape, with a long partition wall on my right and several short straight bits of wall on the left following the curve of the outer wall. The Governor had been at prayer with his chaplain, but they broke off when we entered, and the sergeant introduced me.
‘Sir,’ he said, ‘this is an apothecary who has escaped from Dorchester, and who has been advising treatment for our sick men. His name is—’Fore God, sir, you told me your name but I have forgotten it.’
‘Judd, Micah Judd,’ I said, and to the Governor: ‘You, sir, I believe are Captain Arthur?’
‘I am sir,’ he replied, ‘Captain John Arthur, Governor of this Castle under Parliament. So, you have come from Dorchester? What is the state of that goodly town?’
‘Much divided,’ I told him, ‘our pastor, Mr White, was, as you may know, no rebel against the King, but believed in a godly commonwealth. There are those in Dorchester who would follow the King at all costs, and are rejoicing that the Cavaliers have taken the town. But others hold strongly to Parliament, and would gladly throw over the King if only they might be free, And of course there are those who stay in the middle, who would follow the King if only he would allow a free Parliament. I tell you frankly, sir, Dorchester is an unhappy town at present.
‘And of which group do you count yourself a member?’ he asked.
‘No question,’ I said, ‘I hold for Parliament.’ I did not add that I had lost a lot of my certainty after what had happened at Dorchester.
He then asked me about the Cavalier forces in Melcombe and Weymouth, how strong they were, and whether they were preparing to attack. I told him as much as I could about their numbers, but explained that I had only seen part of their army. As for an attack, I knew they were expecting to launch one, but when that would be I had no idea. He then, like the sergeant, wanted to know how I had managed to pass through the Cavalier lines, and why I had come to Portland, and I repeated my story, that I had paid a fisherman to ferry me across the Chesil Bank well away from the Cavaliers and was seeking to practise my
art wherever needed.
He thanked me for my information and told the sergeant to see that I was given food and shelter for the night, but added that I was not to leave the Castle without permission. This worried me, for I felt that he did not completely trust me, and that I was in effect a prisoner.
However, the sergeant continued to treat me well, and when he left me to go about his duties said he would arrange for me to join them at the evening meal and find a place for me to sleep. He did not forbid me to explore the Castle, so I took that as permission and began to explore the keep.
In truth there was not much more to explore. Beyond the Governor’s parlour there was (I was later told) his bedroom, though I did not see it. There were stairs up to the roof of the central part of the keep, where there were three more guns. Downstairs, off the central hall at the opposite end to the kitchen, was the armoury, from which one could go round to the lower gun-room again. So, having seen what I could of the keep, I went out into the yard.
There were soldiers all over the place, attending to horses and oxen, cleaning weapons and armour, practising sword-play, or just sitting enjoying the sunshine. However, they did not interfere with me, though one or two looked at me curiously. I think news of who I was, and how I had prescribed for the sick men, and been accepted by the Governor, had quickly spread among them.
‘Here, Apothecary,’ one called, ‘have you got a cure for a thick head of a morning?’
‘Don’t drink so much the night before,’ I retorted.
‘Hey, Apothecary, over here!’ cried another. ‘Sir, sir, a damn’ hoss stamped on me foot. Can you have a look?’
At least he had called me ‘sir’, and in addition he was standing by the cart, so I went to him. He kicked off his right boot and lifted his foot onto one of the wheel spokes. His toes were dirty, and the nail of the big toe had turned black. I pressed it gently.
‘Does that hurt?’ I asked.
‘It’s a bit tender.’
‘Does it feel hot, or throbbing?’
‘Not specially.’
‘Then I guess it’ll heal up in a few days, though the nail may drop off. Try not to knock it on things for a day or two, and keep out of the way of that horse!’
‘Aye, aye, thank’ee, sir,’ he touched his hat and moved off, giving me the opportunity to examine the cart in what I hoped would seem a casual way. There was the ‘P’ that Jacob Perrin had mentioned, roughly painted on the tail-board, and I could see the tree-nails or wooden pegs that he had described, and was impressed by how cleverly the double floor was concealed. If I hadn’t been told it was there I would never have suspected it. But with so many soldiers around I did not dare to examine it very closely.
Soon the meal was ready, and I ate with the sergeant and his men, crowded into the big kitchen. Captain Arthur ate in his own quarters, for which I was glad, for I did not like the man. We had heard of him even in Dorchester, of how he was hated on Portland for his high-handed actions. He had driven out their much-loved Rector, Doctor Humphrey Henchman, and destroyed the Vicar’s House in the centre of the Island and burnt the Rector’s library there. His men, too, had gone all over the Island pillaging as well as foraging. If the Cavaliers attacked him the Portlanders would rejoice.
After the chaplain had prayed at some length over the food we set to. I enjoyed the chicken, and hoped I would not be taken ill like the soldiers in the gunroom. However, as the meal had been freshly cooked I trusted it was wholesome.
‘Well, Apothecary, what do you think of our arrangements here?’ said the sergeant. ‘From what you’ve seen of the Cavaliers will they get a bloody nose if they attack?’
‘That’s for sure. They would be foolish to try. With all the cannon you’ve got here you could blast them to bits before they got within musket range.’
I said this without really knowing, not having experience of warfare. But the Castle did look extremely strong and well-armed, and I myself certainly would not have liked to have to attack it. Anyway the soldiers seemed pleased with my opinion, and some of them banged their mugs on the table to applaud.
‘Let ’em come, say I, in the Lord’s name,’ said one. ‘I’ve lined up enough pieces on the landward side which, God willing, will blow ’em to hell before they know what’s hit ’em if they try to come up the causeway.’
‘Well said, master gunner,’ said the sergeant, ‘and if they try coming by sea we’ll sink ’em before they’re half way across the bay. But tell me, Mr Apothecary, how was it that Dorchester fell to the enemy so easily? We thought you would at least endure a siege.’
‘Alas, sir,’ I said, ‘we lacked soldiers. Sir Walter Erle had taken many of them to attack Corfe, and Sir William Waller commandeered most of the rest to reinforce his army.’
‘But I heard you Dorchester folk had made a great wall and ditch, impregnable it was said, which you townsmen yourselves could have defended against all comers.’
‘Indeed we had; I worked on them myself. But somehow our leading men lost heart. A lot of them abandoned us, including the Reverend Mr White, and those who were left behind lost the will to fight.’
‘That’s bad,’ said the sergeant, ‘and doesn’t say much for Dorchester’s vaunted religion.’
‘Apostates, backsliders, sons of perdition,’ agreed the gunner.
‘At least we here are in no danger of such weakness,’ said the chaplain. ‘Our spirits are good, we’ve plenty to eat —’
‘—and drink,’ several soldiers said together.
‘—yes, and drink! There’s no danger of us losing heart at present, thank God.’
‘Amen,’ said the sergeant, echoed by the gunner, who seemed to be the sort who would load his guns with prayer as well as round-shot and fire them in the name of the Lord.
‘But say,’ went on the sergeant, ‘tell us how you really managed to come through from Dorchester if the Cavaliers are in control of all that part? Were you not stopped and challenged on the way?’
I did not like this line of questioning. I had already told the him and the Governor how I crossed the Fleet, and it seemed to me that the sergeant was trying to catch me out in a lie. I feared that he, and possibly others there, did not trust me, and I saw the corporal gazing at me with his usual sneer playing round his thin lips.
‘It’s as I told you earlier,’ I said, ‘because of my profession I had no trouble to speak of. I rode from Dorchester to Weymouth with the regular tranter or carrier, and when I showed what I could do with salves and suchlike remedies I was well received, just as I have been with you. But, as I said before, the Cavaliers wouldn’t let me pass across to Portland Isle, so I was forced to go round out of their sight.’
‘So they knew you wanted to come here, yet they allowed you to hoodwink them!’ said the corporal. I felt that he was implying that I had actually come with their connivance as a spy. I thought, That man is dangerous; he wants to ruin me.
‘I didn’t make a fuss,’ I said, ‘for that would only have made them more determined to stop me. Once they had refused me permission to cross by the ferry I didn’t argue, but turned back, and found a fisherman to bring me across privately. But you know all this—I explained it before.’
‘So what do you propose to do now you’re here?’ asked the corporal. His tone seemed to suggest that he would disbelieve whatever I said. I wished I knew the answer, for I was desperate to get back home as soon as I could, but how was I to manage it?
‘I shall go further onto the Island, and see who needs my services,’ I said. It occurred to me that I might find a boatman in Chesil village who could be persuaded to take me somewhere west of Weymouth, and put me ashore on the Chesil Bank. I could probably find a man from one of the little fishing villages, Fleet or even Langton Herring, to take me from the shingle bank to the mainland. But I would then probably have to walk the ten or more miles home to Dorchester.
The corporal seemed to sneer even more, but he said nothing, and the conversation turned to other topics
.
Afterwards I sat up with the sergeant, drinking and talking, and as he took more liquor the confidence he had expressed at supper seemed to drain away. He seemed to be one of those who grow gloomy over their drink, and he seemed rather depressed at the turn the war had taken, with the west country, which had seemed firmly in Parliament’s control, now largely taken over by the Royalists.
‘Though I suppose,’ he said, ‘things can yet turn around, and the whole country swing to Parliament again. We can hold out here as long as needs must. Furthermore,’ he added, taking another swig, ‘we can make it unsafe for those dam’ Cavaliers to ship supplies in through Weymouth, for our great guns can rake more than half the anchorage. We’ll be a thorn in their sides until Lord Essex or someone comes to relieve us.’
At last I went to bed in one of the smaller rooms, which was down the few stairs from the upper Gun Platform. Five others were in there with me, and for mattresses we lay on sacks stuffed with straw laid on the floor. I took some time to get to sleep although I was very tired. My mattress was lumpy and too small, and the straw was prickly. But the main trouble was my mind, which was churning with worried thoughts.
Now that I was so near the treasure the hopelessness of getting hold of it and successfully taking it from the Roundheads’ castle and through the Cavaliers’ lines seemed overwhelming. I was tormented by being tantalised like this, being so near and yet so far. At best I would get away safely myself, and perhaps carry out my plan of finding a boatmen to ferry me. But supposing the Governor refused to release me? Even if I convinced him I was not a spy he might want to keep me in the Castle to tend his sick soldiers. Unless I was free to walk out of the gate I would be virtually a prisoner.
I cursed my folly for putting myself in this position. I had been over-confident, and having found that my apothecary’s skill seemed a passport to go where I pleased I had over-reached myself and now I was to suffer for it.
Even if the Roundheads did let me go, the Cavaliers might catch me, and they would not be so easy with me as they had been before. They too would certainly be suspicious and might well suspect me of spying, and what excuse could I give for having visited Portland Castle? They would trust me even less if I said the Roundheads had released me, and would surely ask why, and if I told them I had escaped they would not believe me.
But if I was detained at the Castle, what would Agnes think? She would not know what had happened to me, and would be almost out of her mind with worry. What was I, a married man with a child, a man with a profession and work which ought not to be neglected, what was I doing chasing after other people’s treasures or carts? I had been stupid. I had given way to that wretched demon which seems to live in me and demands to know secrets, to find out the hidden causes of things, to go where I ought not to, to investigate losses that are none of my business, to try to solve mysteries, and to discover the truth about crimes which do not concern me.
I thought: ‘I cannot afford to stay here another night. I must get back to Agnes and my shop tomorrow. I must give up this foolish search for the treasure. Even if it is right here in the courtyard as I suppose, I must abandon it. Somehow tomorrow I must be away, though how to get out of this Castle I have no idea. Also, if by some miracle I do escape and evade the Cavaliers, it will be a very hard grind to get home to Dorchester. If I have to walk all the way it will take me till nightfall.’
So my thoughts went round and round, and I tossed and turned, until at last I slept in spite of the wheezing and snoring of the others in the room.
I usually seem to wake when I need to without being called, so in spite of lack of good sleep I woke early, rose before the others and went down to the kitchen. I found a bucket of water and splashed some on my face. I then went to see the sick men in the gun room, and found that they were weak but no longer vomiting. I saw that they had clean water to drink, and wished that I was within reach of my shop, for there I had a powder of dried moneywort, good to take with warm water in such cases.
There were already soldiers about in the yard, but I went down there and looked about and considered what to do. It was maddening to be so near to the treasure and not to be able to take possession of it. I took deep breaths of good air, thankful to be away from the rather foul air inside the keep.
I could not attempt to leave the Castle until people started going to and fro on various errands. I was still undecided, wondering whether it would be best to try to slip out unobserved or to ask permission of the Governor. I came to the conclusion that it would be more sensible to seek permission, perhaps pretending that I would come back to see to the sick at the Castle when I had visited the Islanders. Meanwhile it would do no harm to have another look at the cart.
The soldiers were attending to the animals, cleaning their weapons or patrolling the outside walls. They were all intent on their various tasks, and no longer took a special interest in me: to them I was just another inmate. It seemed to me that now was my opportunity. If I acted as if I had some legitimate business with the cart, and approached it quietly, with an assured air, perhaps no one would notice me particularly.
I took my bag and walked over to it. There were four wooden pegs which had to be pulled out before the floor could be lifted up. Could I pull them out and lift the floor, I wondered, put the treasure in my bag, and walk away without being stopped? It seemed unlikely, and I didn’t even know if the treasure would fit into my bag. But at the very least I could make sure that the treasure really was there. Supposing Perrin had after all deceived me about it? Or some soldier found it and made off with it?
I pulled at the head of one of the pegs, but it would not move. I tried twisting it and managed to turn it a little. I twisted it to and fro until I felt it was loose enough to pull out, then I left it in place and moved on to the next, which I loosened similarly. I moved round the tail of the cart and tried the peg on the other side. I was in the act of twisting it when I was seized from behind. I tried to turn, but my captor was bending my arm behind my back and I cried out in pain.
‘You dirty spy,’ said a harsh voice, ‘come quietly or I’ll break your arm.’ It was the voice of the burly corporal who had first detained me.
He made me walk in front of him into the keep with my arm still twisted behind my back, and by the footsteps behind me I gathered that he had been joined by another soldier, though I was prevented from turning to see. As we came out of the crooked passage into the central hall we met the sergeant.
‘Why, corporal,’ he exclaimed, ‘what have you got there?’
‘The spy, sarge,’ said the corporal’s harsh voice behind me. ‘I knew ’e was one when I stopped ’im yesterday, and when I heard his stories at supper. We’ve just caught ’im interfering with one of the carts.’
‘’Fore God, did you now?’ said the sergeant. ‘What exactly was he doing?’
‘Trying to loosen bits of it,’ said the corporal. ‘I was watching ’im for some minutes. He was moving from one side to the other trying to loosen the bolts that hold it together.’
‘What the devil were you trying to do?’ the sergeant demanded of me.
‘Will you please listen to me, sergeant,’ I said. ‘I was not trying to damage any cart. I was wondering if it would be strong enough to carry wounded away from a battle, and trying to judge how many bodies of wounded could be carried in it.’
‘And what concern is that of yours?’
‘At the moment, none. But who knows what may happen? I am, as you well have seen, a healer, an apothecary, and who knows when I may be caught up in a battle here and need to practise my skill.’ It was a feeble excuse, I know, but it was all that I could think of at that moment.
‘He was interfering with cart, I saw ’im,’ repeated the corporal.
‘You will have to explain what you were doing to the Governor,’ decided the sergeant. ‘Tie his hands behind him, and bring him upstairs.’
The corporal held my wrists while his companion, a common soldier, fou
nd a piece of rope and tied my hands behind my back. They then made me walk up the stairs to the Governor’s quarters, the sergeant going in front. He knocked on the Governor’s door, and we filed in.
The Governor was sitting at his table, having just had his breakfast. He was unshaven, and did not look pleased to be disturbed.
‘What’s going on sergeant?’ he asked.
‘This man I brought to you yesterday, suspected of being a spy, has been caught this morning apparently trying to disable one of the carts. Corporal Heller here saw him.
‘What did you see him doing, corporal?’ asked the Governor. The corporal, in his harsh voice, repeated what he had told the sergeant, and I repeated my rather poor excuse.
‘But you know I’m a man simply concerned with healing,’ I added. ‘I’ve been tending your sick, and even this morning early, the first thing I did was to visit them and see how they are.’
‘To see how weak we are, more like,’ said the corporal.
‘It could be suspicious,’ agreed the Governor. ‘What exactly is your business on Portland?’
‘Sir,’ I answered, ‘I didn’t ask to come to your castle here. I was going on my peaceable way when I was stopped by some of your soldiers, including this corporal, and brought here against my will. That is not how a spy would behave. I am a healer, and need no other reason to be on Portland. I help the sick wherever I am needed.’
‘But you say you come from Dorchester. Why are you so far from home?’
‘Dorchester is not far, sir. I could walk there in a day, and it’s less than a couple of hours riding. But Dorchester has been taken over by the enemies of Parliament, and is no safe place now for those of us of Puritan leanings. Besides, we country apothecaries are used to travelling further than your city practitioners, in places like London or Bristol. It is no great matter for me to travel this far.’ This was not strictly true, but not entirely false, for though I had never been this far to visit any sick before, wherever I went I made it my business to try to help any who needed my services.
‘Are there no apothecaries or physicians in Weymouth who could more easily come here?’ he asked.
‘No doubt there are,’ I said, ‘but they may have been prevented from coming by the Cavaliers. And my success in avoiding the sentries may have been luck.’
‘Hum,’ he considered. ‘Your coming from Dorchester is in your favour, if indeed you support the godly party and Parliament. But as you yourself said yesterday, Dorchester is divided, and you may be of the other party for all I know. I shall have to keep you a prisoner until I discover more.’
Just then there were the sounds of galloping horses and hoarse shouts. The governor leapt up and looked out of a window.
‘What is it?’ he called.
‘It’s Mr Bragge, sir, with a party of our troopers come as reinforcements,’ came an answering shout. ‘They’re being pursued, he says, having broken through the Cavaliers. He’s desperate to be let in.’
‘Let ’em in then, if they’re being pursued,’ the Governor answered. ‘I’ll come down.’ As he ran from the room he ordered the sergeant, ‘Put that man in hold till I come back. I’ll deal with him later.
‘Lock him up, corporal,’ said the sergeant. ‘I’d better go and see what’s happening.’ He too ran off and down the stairs.
