by Smith, Skye
Daniel kept to himself and did not search out the company of the family. It was just as well, for Daniel enjoyed telling stories of his adventures, even though Robert had sworn him to keep mute about their rowdy and profitable times together in the Netherlands. He was especially never to mention the profitable Genever trade, or riding as Pistoleers, or their adventures in sinful places such as Rotterdam.
While Robert was fully busy with his family, and with the bailiffs who were already sniffing around sensing that Sarah was close to death, there was not much for Daniel to do. He toyed with the idea of a bit of romance with the dreamy Alice, but he was too sober to do anything so foolish. Being too sober was part of the problem. Though Robert was worldly, his family were small town Puritans, so the only thing worth drinking in the house was some watered down Somerset cider.
The brother who Daniel spent the most time with was Sam, who was a similar age to him and worldly from his work in trading with Ireland. It was he that one day told him, "There are two types of men in Bridgwater."
"Puritan and Church of England?" Daniel guessed but was wrong. "English and Dutch ... uh ... English and Britons ... uh ... Parliamentarians and Royalist?" Again wrong. "I give up."
"Drunks and sobers,” Samuel laughed. "The Puritans and the Dutch tend to be sober, while the rest are drunks. This is now a sleepy port because the trading ships are becoming too large for our river, but there are still many seamen, which means alehouses, which means drunks, which means whores, which means thieves and beggars and other wastrels. Behind all the bawdiness, lewdness, and dishonesty is the strong drink.
Some men can have one drink for their health and then stop, but the Britons, you know, the Welsh, Irish and Cornish ... well ... once they start drinking they cannot stop until their purse is empty. Not that they spend all their coin on the drink itself, but on the other things that are available where strong drink is served."
"Like loose women?"
"Exactly,” replied Sam with a wishful sigh. While at home in Bridgwater he always stayed sober and stayed away from alehouses.
"In the Netherlands,” Daniel explained, "they used to have the same problem, but one law changed all of that."
"They banned strong drink? Do their Puritans hold so much political sway?"
Daniels laughed long and loud at the thought of the Netherlanders without their strong drink. "No, Sam. They banned the selling of more strong drink to someone who is nearly drunk."
"But that would mean ..."
"Exactly. If you want to get drunk, you must drink in the safety of someone's home. It means that there are few drunks wandering the streets preying or being preyed upon. It means that the wives have more say in how drunk their men get. It means that the whores must hump for their coin rather than thieve it. A simple solution, yes?"
"Aye, simple, but it will never happen here in Bridgwater,” Sam replied. "Here the Wyndham family make too much profit from their alehouses and whorehouses, and they are the richest and most powerful political family in Somerset. Now that the old man is dead, the sons, Edmond and Francis wield the power. King Charles has made Edmond the governor of the castle because his wife Christabella was once the wet-nurse of the prince royal. The eldest brother Francis is landlord to half the town, .... half the shire."
"What are they doing to that castle?" Daniel interrupted, "It looks half undone."
"They want to turn it into a fortified palace. The stout walls took up too much space so they are quarrying them and selling off the cut stone. It is no longer a place for soldiers and canon, but a place to entertain lords and princes. They are paying for it by using one of the barracks as an alehouse, The Castle Inn. It is the busiest alehouse in town because it has the friendliest ale wenches. There is even a private gentlemen's club upstairs. The club is the closest thing that Bridgwater has to the London clubs, you know ... where gentlemen make business deals. Do they have such clubs in Rotterdam?"
"Bah,” Daniel groaned, "most of the gentlemen's clubs in the Netherlands did not survive the tulpenmanie. When the bottom fell out of the tulip bulb trade last year, and took everyone's savings with it, then all of the trading markets suffered, even the market for trading shares in the East India Company and the Bank of Amsterdam. Without the easy profits of the markets, the clubs soon closed down."
"I heard tell of the value of tulip bulbs. How they had climbed quickly to be more valuable than gold, and then dropped in value even more quickly,” Samuel said softly. "Did my brother lose much of his savings in the crash?"
"We made money." Daniel wondered if telling this would break his oath to Robert. "We sold our bulbs well before the crash in prices because we were called up to .... I mean, we had other commitments. That is, we were called away from the city to the border on other business, and it was easier to store the coin than the bulbs."
"Well, our Castle's club room is still busy with business deals. Gentlemen of position and wealth are entertained there, and deals are made, and Irish Whisky is drunk, while painted ladies keep the men amused." Sam frowned. "I have never been invited in, but I hear it is quite lavish inside."
"Gentlemen drinking Irish Whisky? Impossible!" Daniel interrupted. Aquavitae was a business that he knew well. "Irish Whisky is foul dark stuff made in bath tubs. Gentlemen of wealth do not drink it. I think you meant to say that they drink Dutch Genever."
"Not at all,” Sam replied, proud of his knowledge of the Irish trade. "The Irish have finally been able to copy the Dutch Genever process. Bushmills now ships whisky from Ireland that is tawny-colored and with a light nose like gin, though they do not flavour it with juniper berries."
"For a Puritan you seem to know a lot about strong drink."
"And by your dress I gather that you are not a Puritan. Oh dear. Robert asked me not to talk religion with you. Why is that? Are you of a strange sect? A Mennonite perhaps? He told me that you hailed from a communal village."
"A much more ancient sect than Mennonite,” Daniel said quietly. There was no need to tell this man that he was not a Christian, never mind not a Protestant.
"A Lollard then? I thought they were all burned by the Papist Bishops."
"Something like that. You can gather why Robert doesn't want me discussing religion."
"Of course." Sam moved closer so he could soften his voice to a whisper. "But please tell me what you can." At that moment the back door of the house slammed open and both men looked towards it. Alice had done the slamming and was now stomping through the vegetable garden towards the path that ran along the river bank towards the town bridge. "Oh dear. Robert must have told her."
"Told her what?"
"That he has betrothed her to a goldsmith friend of his, Thomas Smythes of London. Do you know him? He has a shop on Cheapsides."
Daniel thought for a moment. "I've never met the man, but many traders have dealings with goldsmiths, you know, so that they needn't carry gold between kingdoms. A friend from his Oxford days, perhaps. Well, she could do worse. Married to a goldsmith and living in London. She could do a lot worse."
Instead of hanging about the garden with Sam, Daniel decided to explore the lay of the land around Bridgewater. He began with a brisk ride up into the Quantock Hills that began just two miles to the west. From there he could get a good view all around. The view made him realize that the only thing worth visiting in the valley or the marshy coastal plain was the town of Bridgwater, so he rode back.
The town was a busy place. It reminded him of a bigger version of Lynn, one of the ports of the Wash that he traded with. A muddy river port surrounded by flat marshlands. Bridgwater was a richer place though, with a busier port, and on the main highway from Bristol to Devon and Cornwall. He spent the afternoon hanging about the Swan Inn hoping for more news from Scotland, but really to drink some full-strength ale.
When three coaches arrived at the same time at the Swan, the riot of activity forced him to find his horse and do some more exploring. Being as he was in training to become a sh
ip's captain he naturally chose to ride down Fore street to the Parrett River to see what type of ships were at the quays. To his surprise they were mostly quite large, with very few small coastal ships like the Freisburn. The quays were busy, and further downstream there were foundations being laid for new warehouses. Red stone foundations obviously quarried from the tumbled down walls of the castle.
The castle must have been formidable in its day, but on this day he could see no sign of a garrison, or even any official-looking uniforms, and certainly no sign of canons on the remaining walls. Part of it looked to be used as a manor house, and another part as offices, and yet another part for storage. He assumed that the town garrison would have moved the canons to the river mouth, but that was miles away, and he didn't feel like riding that far across featureless marsh just to have a look.
Where the wall was already gone, there was a large barracks building that was very busy. This must be the Castle alehouse that Samuel had told him about. There were outdoor tables where a few of the quay workers were taking a break for a light ale and a pie, and he joined them. Not for the ale or the pie so much as to be served by a young wench who was showing most of her bouncing breasts and all of one leg, for she had one hem of her skirts folded up beneath her belt to keep the skirt up off the damp ground. All ale is best when spiced with a bit of bosom.
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THE PISTOLEER - HellBurner by Skye Smith Copyright 2013-14
Chapter 7 - Saving Alice in Bridgwater in November 1638
Alice was flushed and felt breathless as his hands caressed her breasts ever so gently. Thomas was so skilled. Oh, how she loved him. He was so handsome in his tailored and colorful clothes, with his dark hair and flashing eyes and quick smile. And he was the catch of the town. As a son of the Wyndham family he was already respected and men bowed to his orders without question.
She had known of him for most of her life, though he had noticed her only about two months ago. Since then they had been meeting, quietly, out of the public eye. Making love was recent. Had it been only two weeks? How stupid it was for her to have pushed him away for so long. She was glad she was no longer a virgin. Now he was even more eager to be with her, alone with her, whispering his love into her ear. Every day this week they had met at this cottage.
Thomas took another swig of aquavitae and then he passed the flask to her. "Go on, take some gulps and hold them in your mouth before you swallow. It will keep us healthy despite making love in the damp season."
She did as he asked and grimaced at the burn. It wasn't so bad if you let it trickle down your throat, and if you didn't start coughing. As she took another swig, and then another, he pushed her down onto her knees. She well knew how he wanted to begin their lovemaking. With her moistening him. He had shown her how last week.
Men were so easy. If only she had known how easy they were when she was younger. All you need do is let them fumble with your breasts and their thingy grows and gets hard. Once it is hard you just squeeze it and rub it with your hands and they will promise you anything. Use your tongue and lips on it, and they are yours. Completely yours. Men are so easy. If any woman was ever so easy she would be called a slut.
Later, much later, after they had pleasured each other twice, she lay in his arms and looked at his sculpted nose and cheekbones. He was so handsome. "Did you ask your parents?" she whispered.
"Ask my parents?" He whispered back. Even though he rented this cottage for privacy, the owner lived just steps away. They always whispered, and tried not to cry out while they were in the heat of passion.
"Ask their permission, you know, for us to marry."
"Oh, sorry, I forgot,” he said sitting up on the bed and brushing his silky dark hair out of his eyes. He knew where this conversation was leading. He knew it from his other conquests, and there had been many of those over the years.
"Well you must ask. We have been ... you know.... a lot. I may be carrying your child already."
There it was. The veiled threat. Marry me willingly or I will go to the magistrate and force it. These town girls must all talk to each other, because they all eventually said the same thing. "Come, we will go now, go together and ask."
"Like this?" she asked in a panic. Her clothes were rumpled, as was her hair. "No, I must change first and wear my Sunday dress." Not that her Sunday dress was much better. It was black, while at least this one was a soft brown. The Wyndham women wore bright colors, and silk, not drab wool.
"Save that for when you meet my mother. Today we will speak only to my father. He will be at the club because he is entertaining Beauchamp, the Lord of Somerset. We can speak to him there alone, and then he can help us to convince my mother."
"But - but - I mean, your father is a Lord, too. I mean. I must look my best." She was wriggling and straightening her clothes and trying to look down her own back to make sure there were no stains.
"My father will not look at your clothes but at the woman who wears them. Here, let me brush you off. Your bum is a bit dusty." He got carried away brushing his hands over her pert round bum, and afterwards, after he had taken her up against the wall, she had to repeat her efforts to neaten herself.
The sun had set before they reached the castle. The Castle alehouse was overflowing with men, and women, but Thomas guided her safely around it and up the rise of land behind the building where there was an entrance to the second floor.
Alice held her lover's arm close to her, partially for protection and partially because she had done as he suggested and finished his flask of Aquavitae to boost her courage. She was more than a bit unsteady on her feet. She looked nervously at the rough men who were sitting, standing, and leaning around the alehouse and held him even closer. As they came around the to the rear of the building she gasped because there was a woman standing and leaning forward onto a wooden post for support while a man humped her from behind. She tried to look away, but her eyes were drawn to the erotic spectacle of the woman's arched back and bouncing breasts as she serviced the drunk.
There was a guard at the club's door who looked through a grate in it, but he opened it immediately once he recognized young Master Thomas, the son of the owner. Inside, the room was warm and bright and looked more like a formal sitting room than the high class alehouse she had been expecting. Unlike the alehouse, which was bulging at the seams with customers, in this room she saw perhaps only a half dozen customers, and each had a pretty lady, a well-dressed lady sitting with them. Again she felt self-conscious about the plain brown woolen smock that clung to her. These women wore every color of the rainbow over flouncing white petticoats edged in lace.
Thomas saw his father and called to him. His father, Edmund, waved him over to a corner of the room and they all came together at the corner table. Two other men were with him. One she recognized as the governor's brother Francis, who was the wealthiest man in town. The other she did not recognize. He looked to be about her age, seventeen or so.
"And who is this little charmer?" Edmund asked as he stared with twinkling eyes and a big smile at the pretty girl with his son.
"Father, this is Alice Blake, Humphrey's youngest child. She and I have come to ask your permission for her to become my wife."
"This is sudden, isn't it? What will your mother say?" Edmund kept smiling but winked at his handsome son. He had a large glass of whisky in his hand and he took a sip in salute of the young lovely and then passed it to her and told her to finish it. She did so only so he would not be displeased with her. She was already feeling quite dizzy.
"We were hoping you could help us to convince Mother,” Thomas replied.
"Alice, where are my manners?" Edmund pointed to his guest. "This lad is William Seymour, Lord Beauchamp of Somerset. Eventually he will become the Duke. He is my special guest tonight."
Alice's curtsey to the two lords was wobbly due to the strong drink, but she did it well and then faced back to Edmund. "Will you help us sir? We are so deeply in love."<
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"Well, usually there is a lengthy protocol to all this. Parents meeting. Physician examinations. Dowry discussions. I suppose you are in too much of a hurry to wait a few days while I arrange for a physician. You know, to make sure you are healthy and fit to bear me many grandchildren."
"We need your help with mother first,” Thomas interrupted. "You know how she is. She wants me to marry into a courtier family so she can return to the King's court. Besides, by just looking at Alice you must see how healthy she is."
Edmund relented a bit, "And I suppose you are penniless, girl. Come show me what is in your pockets."
"I came out without my purse, sir,” Alice said, suddenly worried. Would her brother supply her with a dowry to marry a Wyndham? He hated the Wyndhams. When Father was deathly ill and could not work, they had forced him to sell Mother's manor house in Spaxton for less than it was worth. Suddenly she felt like she was Juliet and Thomas was Romeo from the play they had seen together just last week.
"William, Francis, give this girl some coins. Would you have her stand penniless in front of her future father-in-law?"
The two men handed some shillings towards Alice and she opened her hand to take them, and then was told to put them in her pocket so that no one could claim that she was penniless. Suddenly, she felt better. Not just because the strong drink was warming her all the way down to her toes, but because these lords were all trying to help her. They were on her side and more importantly, Edmund's father seemed to like her. This was going so well.
"Now girl,” the father told her, "since we don't have a physician, at least show me your breasts and your hips so that I can gauge how fit you are for bearing children."
The request took her by complete surprise. She looked at the faces of the men, and at the attention this conversation was attracting from the other men and women in the club. "Here, in public?"
