Pistoleer: Edgehill

by Smith, Skye

  "They were selling ships to us for silver." Anso laughed at such a foolish question. "Whose side do you think they were on. They helped us unload the Lion's jolly, no questions asked."

  "I meant, do you think that any of them were Lindsey's men?"

  "Hmm, I see what you mean. A couple of them left at a run as soon as the leader surrendered to me. His name is Colonel Ballingdean, by the way, and he demanded to be taken to Bolingbroke Castle."

  "I think it would be wise if you went and asked the men you bought the ships from where the runners were headed. We may not want to stick around here much longer."

  While Anso was finding that out, Daniel went out on deck with a leaf of paper and a plume and interviewed the prisoners. There were eleven in all. Colonel Sir William Ballingdean, Major Killegrew, Captain Dolman, and eight Germans, and he patiently wrote down their names and the names of their villages, all the while assuring them that they would come to no harm.

  Meanwhile Anso was on shore talking to Cleff and two of the locals. He returned to the Swift only long enough to gather the crews for the two new-to-them ships, and to tell Daniel, "At least one lad ran back to Skegness. Our contacts are expecting half the village to turn out in case there is wrecking plunder to be had. They advise that the Swift should stand off before they get here. They say that they sent a runner to Boston to report the Lion, but someone else was talking about earning a shilling by running to warn someone called Ellison at the castle."

  "Let's make for Boston then,” Daniel told him. "We'll stand off now and then follow you just in case you have any trouble with our new ships."

  * * * * *

  By the time the three ships put into Whitham Haven, the port for Boston, it was late afternoon. The villagers of Fishtoft well knew the Wellenhay men and sent messengers not only to Captain Edmund Syler, the commander of the Boston Trained Band, but also to the neighbouring village of Freiston to bring some help.

  The Freiston men arrived well before Syler and were well pleased when they saw that the Wellenhay clan had bought two ships to convert for their use. At their insistence, their neighbours in Fishtoft brought hot food to the crews and to the prisoners. Eel pies of course, for the eels were running.

  Captain Syler arrived with the William Ellis the MP for Boston and the Mayor Edward Tilson. It took them moments to decide that they didn't want anything to do with any prisoners who were friends of Prince Rupert, or with any of their or the prince's possessions. The mayor said it all with, "Please take them away from here on your ship. Take them to London and make them Parliament's problem."

  Syler agreed. "Robert Bertie is not just the Earl of Lindsey but the Lord Lieutenant of Lincolnshire and until that changes I have but two hundred men to keep Boston secure from him. If I lock these men up here, he is sure to come for them. The man is also the king's captain general. He could lead an entire army to Boston if he wanted to. That kind of trouble I don't need."

  By sunset the three ships were ready to set sail for Lynn. Daniel had agreed to take the prisoners and their luggage to London, to the Tower of London, while the Mayor would write a letter to Parliament explaining Boston's position in the matter, and the MP would take the letter with him on the morning coach to London. The two small ships had already departed when two riders approached. One of them turned out to be Ellison, Lindsey's castellan for Bolingbroke Castle, and the other his scribe in canonical garb.

  They demanded the release of the prisoners, and when that was refused, they demanded to speak with the prisoners. Daniel allowed them to board the Swift, and then immediately had the crew cast off and row. "I'll take them to London with the prisoners!" he yelled out to Syler who could barely hear him over the laughter of Ellis and Tilson. "Ellison can make his case for their release directly to parliament."

  * * * * *

  * * * * *

  The Pistoleer - Edgehill by Skye Smith Copyright 2013-14

  Chapter 13 - Blake is missing in Somerset, September 1642

  Summer days in Wellenhay were precious because it was then that the place was most like a tropical island paradise. Not that Daniel had spent much time there this summer because of his entanglements with parliamentarians. Now he was facing yet another voyage to London to deliver Prince Rupert's men. Daniel was thinking about how displeased he was to be leaving yet again, as the morning sun heated up Venka's house.

  The prisoners and their trunks were still on the Swift under guard, but the crates of weapons and the chests of silver coins had been taken ashore. The chests of coins were under guard in Venka's house, as were the crates of silver plate that Oliver and Valentine had stolen, er, liberated from the Sheriff of Huntingdon. All morning a silver exchange had been happening on the rush mats in the centre of the one room house.

  With his wives, Sarah and Venka, helping with their market scales, Daniel had been exchanging Prince Rupert's coins for an equal worth of the silver plate from the colleges of Cambridge. His plan was to deliver to London with his prisoners any plate that could be recognized as belonging to the colleges. Their equivalent in coins would remain here until Oliver came to collect them. Coins were a lot more useful to Oliver, whereas with the plate in London it could be used by the mint to create new coins as required. It seemed the sensible thing to do.

  Teesa stood guard outside, and when she called to them that Oliver Cromwell was punting into Wellenhay's ships pool, Daniel left the women to the work of sorting silver. He reasoned that it may not be wise for Oliver to walk into the scene of his wives sorting through mounds of silver until he had told him about the goings on at Skegness. Meeting him at the quay seemed the sensible thing to do.

  "Oliver, come to fetch your silver?" Daniel called to the local MP as he tied off his punt.

  "Oh yes, the silver,” Oliver stopped in his track. "I meant to speak with you about that. You see it..."

  "It contains markings that can be traced back to the colleges,” Daniel finished his sentence. "What's the matter, Ollie? Are you worried that it could be used as evidence to hang you as a thief?" He watched Oliver's back stiffen before he snorted in laughter at his own jest. "We had the same thought so we have it well hidden. How would it be if we could trade everything traceable, all the presentation bowls and the like, for shillings from Holland. Not Charlie's shillings of course, for in Holland they are still partial to using the James Stuart shillings."

  Oliver assumed that this meant shipping the plate to Holland. "Won't that be risky. I mean, trusting such wealth to your small ships on the open sea."

  "Not now that we don't have to hide from the English navy. Having the Lord High Admiral as a friend comes in handy. There is one complication. The James shillings are 60 to the physical pound, while Charlie's shillings are lighter at 62. It means that your shillings would be worth more than a shilling. Is that a problem?"

  Oliver waved away the problem with his hand. "The news that I am paying out heavier shillings than the king may bring more men to me. But I didn't come for the silver, not just yet. Do you mind holding on to it for a little while longer?" The other men hanging about on the quay hooted at the thought of their clan minding that they had to hold onto silver.

  "Aren't you going to give the silver back to the colleges?" Daniel asked. "If the king has stolen some, then won't they need the rest of it to pay the teaching staff and feed the boys?"

  The men around now hooted at the thought that any politician would give silver away. Oliver tried not to catch his eye as he told him, "Many of the students are the younger sons of the nobility, and most have been called home by their fathers. The teaching staff are mostly on their way to join the king in Nottingham. I doubt if the colleges will remain open for much longer." To change the subject Oliver held a bundle of news sheets forward until Daniel took hold of them. "I thought you may like to read the news of the kingdom. I collected a few days worth of news sheets while I was in London."

  The men on the quay saw the papers and called men in from the ships to listen to the lates
t news. Daniel waited until they were close enough to hear and then began to read the large type out to them. He only bothered reading the small type if someone called out an interest in the story.

  "General Waller is still trying to get Goring to surrender Portsmouth. They should never have left Goring as the governor, not after Lunsford tried to take the Kingston arsenal.

  Lord Brooke defeats the Earl of Northampton. I suppose that means that parliament now controls Warwickshire.

  One, two, three ... four stories about various lords of the king being thrashed for trying to use the Commission of Arrays to press men into service.

  Oliver, these news sheets are all about what is good for Parliament. Where is the rest of the news?"

  Oliver cleared his throat before saying, "Presbyterians and Puritans control the printing presses and they don't print the king's propaganda."

  "What's propaganda?" one of the lads asked.

  "That is the use of news," Oliver told him, "or the lack of news, or the twisting of news, to trick folk into believing what rulers want them to believe."

  The men laughed aloud at learning such a useful new word and then Daniel continued his reading. "Prince Rupert and Prince Maurice have left Holland with a small convoy of ships carrying grain, ordnance, and mercenaries. They are expected to make for the Tyne." Again there was laughter all around.

  Oliver was looking all around wondering at the laughter, so Daniel said, "Ugh, we intercepted one of the prince's ships at Skegness. It was a Dutch ship so we allowed it to sail on with its cargo of grain, but not before we took off the passengers. Eleven mercenaries and their weapons. They are still on the Swift." Daniel nodded towards the sleek galliot. "I've been instructed by the Mayor of Boston to take them to London and hand them over to Parliament."

  While Oliver was digesting that news, Daniel continued reading out the news sheets to the men. "There are rumours that the Lords of Coal are recruiting Catholics for the king's service."

  "I thought the king announced that Catholics aren't welcome in his army,” the lad said. "I'm sure I heard that. It was right after the news that the Catholics had slaughtered all those Protestants over in Ireland."

  Daniel made no comment. You couldn't believe anything you heard about Ireland for it was all, what was that word, propaganda. The only thing he would believe about Ireland was that rich folk would be stealing land away from poor folk. "Oye, listen to this. In a display of quick thinking and daring, Oliver Cromwell the Member of Parliament for Cambridge has stopped the King from stealing the silver from the Colleges there. Cambridge, its castle and its armoury are now supporting Parliament. Thank you Mr. Cromwell."

  Oliver was beaming at hearing his name read out from the news sheets.

  "Does it mention any of us?" someone asked.

  "No, not even Valentine," Daniel replied. That was actually a good thing, what with so much silver hidden about the village. "You must have been the toast of London, Oliver. Were you invited to all the best dinner parties?"

  "It was a nice change. Usually my name doesn't make the short list of the more lavish affairs."

  "Was Betty pleased?"

  "My good wife thought the whole thing careless and risky and couldn't believe that I would act so foolishly. Not at my age and with a family to feed."

  "Any word from Somerset? Was Robert Blake in London?" Daniel asked about his old pistoleer friend.

  "On the next sheet there is news from Bath,” Oliver said as his beam disappeared.

  Daniel shuffled the papers and then read out, "The Earl of Bedford has been sent to Wells to take command of the militias fighting the Earl of Hertford's royalist forces in Somerset and Dorset. His mission is to stop the king's forces from relieving Portsmouth." That was all there was other than listing the pedigrees of the earls.

  "Bedford, he's the bastard who wants the Cambridgeshire Fens to be drained,” one of the older men hissed.

  "That was the old Earl of Bedford. He died last year of the pox." Oliver stopped speaking because all the men around him had made a horrible noise with their throats, spat on the ground, and uttered some curses to his memory. "The man those articles are about is his son William Russell. He's not yet thirty, has no battlefield experience that I know of, and yet they have put him in charge of the militias of Devon and Somerset, and have promoted him to General of the Horse."

  "Unbelievable. Whose idea was that?"

  "What is worse is that the man's best friend is Lord Digby," Oliver replied, "who kisses Charlie's co..." He sucked back his next word because Sarah had just arrived on the quay looking lovely, "um ...feet."

  "I met Digby up in Hull,” Daniel told him. "The man was born to be hung. So why would Parliament trust this new Earl of Bedford? That is just asking for treachery."

  "I agree,” said Oliver. "Certainly not the person I would send to stop Hopton and Lunsford from ravaging Dorset. Umm, you asked about Blake, yes. Somewhere in those papers it says that Robert Blake is a captain in John Horner's Somerset company. Horner has been sent to Shepton Mallet which is under siege by Ralph Hopton and his king's regiment. Unfortunately Lunsford has arrived to help Hopton and has been raiding our columns, and since then Blake has gone missing."

  Daniel raced through the sheets searching for the article. Finding it was a let down, because it said even less than Oliver had. One line was all. Captain Robert Blake of Somerset is missing and presumed captured by Colonel Lunsford of the King's Horse. "Shit. Lunsford will do for him just out of spite. He is sure to recognize him as one of the men who captured him at his wife's house. Vicious sod, our Lunsford."

  "Oye, skipper, ain't he the one from the Tower of London who was eating children?"

  "Aye, that's the man,” Daniel said absent mindedly. He was trying to bring to mind the map of Somerset. Where the hell was Shepton Mallet? He must have asked it out loud for Oliver answered with "Near Wells."

  "No,” Sarah said softly, and then more strongly, "No! No! No! We have too much to do before we can leave for Bermuda. You cannot go chasing across the countryside in hopes of finding Robert. If he still lives you will hear from him. If he still lives, he will escape this nasty Colonel." And that was all she could say before the tears stifled her words. She once had hopes of becoming Mrs. Robert Blake.

  "But Blake is part of our Bermuda plan. On our first voyage we must leave some of the clan behind to keep our claim on Wellenhay, but we also need Blake as our trading connection here in England. Lyme and Bridgewater are much handier for trading with the New World."

  "Oye, Danny,” came Anso's gruff voice from the outer ring of the men. "Does that mean that after you drop the prisoners in London you'll be takin' the Swift round Lyme way?"

  Daniel looked over at the Swift. It was tempting, but that would take too long. Every day's delay may cost Blake his life. "The fastest way of getting to Somerset is by horse. Anso, you'll have to take the prisoners to London."

  "But my writing is not so good,” Anso freely admitted. "and I will have to fill out all sorts of reports when I drop them off."

  "Then take,” Daniel said as he looked around at the men, "take Sarah with you. She is the best at reading and writing and ciphering. Besides, they already know her at Warwick House so that will make it all easier." He passed the news sheets to Sarah who was still sobbing. "I'll find him Sarah, no fear."

  "I'm not crying for him,” she sobbed. "I'm crying for the stupidity of it all. Why doesn't the king just admit that he can't run the kingdom and allow Parliament to run it for him. I'm crying for all of the tears that are being shed everywhere because of this pig headed king or ours, and for all the tears yet to come. Don't you see, there are three sides to this war with the king. Those for the king, those against him, and the women and children who are going to suffer no matter the outcome."

  Oliver watched Daniel take her into his arms to comfort her and he told them softly, "I just thought you should know. I suppose I should get this punt back to Ely. It is borrowed." He turned to go b
ack to his punt.

  Daniel motioned to Anso, and told him, "Tell Ollie the full story of what happened at Skegness, and show him those cases of muskets and pistols. They are all for sale. That will give me time enough to pack my weapons and my bedroll so I can share his punt back to Ely." Without letting go of Sarah, he turned and then they strolled arm in arm back to Venka's house. He would leave it to Sarah to make sure that Anso delivered the right mix and weight of silver to London.

  * * * * *

  It had been a long hard ride to reach Wells, and would have been faster and more comfortable by post coach, but then Daniel would not have had the use of a horse at the other end. The rush for both sides to recruit men had been preceded by the rush to recruit horses. There was not a spare horse anywhere in Somerset to be rented or bought, and horse theft was still a hanging offense unless you were an army procurer. In truth, he hadn't slept in a bed since he had left Wellenhay because he didn't want to leave his horse unguarded in a stable.

  The horse he had chosen was a sturdy three year old mare who was too small to be of use to pull carts or to carry some fat ass cavalryman, and Daniel looked slightly ridiculous riding her because his legs were so long. He couldn't believe that the clan would have bought such a nag, as Frisian clans prided themselves on the beauty of their horses, so it must have been sired by some passing stallion that shared a paddock with one of their mares.

  So far not one person had tried to steal her or claim her and that, in a back handed way, proved her worth. From the pot half full point of view, he could praise her stamina and sure-footedness. Whether she could outrun a cavalry horse remained to be found out, for he had not wanted to risk injuring her by running her flat out so early in his journey. Her name was Femke, which was Frisian for Peace, and the purple ribbon woven into her mane was a sure sign that Teesa had ridden her recently. Since Teesa was the best judge of horse flesh in the clan, it had been the ribbon that had finally decided him on choosing her.