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Pistoleer: Edgehill

Page 32

by Smith, Skye


  Daniel took back his looker and again focused on the officer across the field. "Lindsey. But of course it's Lindsey. No wonder he looked familiar. That makes sense because the pike men near those field guns were pressed into service by him."

  "It doesn't make sense at all. The captain-general should be safe at headquarters and giving orders, not making speeches to gunners." Balfour snatched back the looker and went on scanning the king's army. "There must be more than a thousand cavalry on each wing." He mumbled some numbers as he made a rough count. "There must be ten thousand men in their infantry formations. And that is not including their mounted infantry and skirmishers. Twenty, at least twenty big guns. My God we are in trouble! Half our army has still not arrived from Worcester."

  The moment the word trouble left his lips the sound of rapid gun fire came from the north. Balfour swung the looker around to see where it was coming from. "Ah, as soon as my companies went to reinforce the skirmishers in the hedges, the king's skirmishers were mustered to push them out of the hedges."

  "That will be Prince Rupert's doing,” Daniel replied, and then told Balfour about how some of Rupert’s cavalry had earlier run afoul of the carbines hidden in the hedgerows. "If Rupert has sent his mounted infantry to do the dirty work of clearing those hedges, then he must be preparing for a cavalry charge."

  "I should hurry along to the south wing. Bedford will be finished his bullshitting by now,” Balfour said as he handed the looker back to Daniel. "Later I will be near to Essex and his headquarters with our only company of heavy cuirassiers. I am to lead the reserve cavalry personally. Wait. Hand me back the looker."

  Once he had it in his hand again he scanned the middle of the king's line above where Lindsey and the two field guns were. "My god. They've made a mistake." he told Daniel without taking the looker down.

  "What do you see?"

  "It's not what I see but what I don't see. They have no cavalry in reserve. There is no cavalry behind the pike line and musketeers that protect their headquarters. The fools have no mounted reserve in the mid field." Balfour passed the looker back to Daniel and then kicked his horse to a run to catch up to Bedford so that he could send the Earl to tell this to Essex.

  With a quick scan with the looker, Daniel confirmed that there was no mounted reserve directly across from him. Not even the king's horseguard. So two mysteries. Why was Lindsey front and center with the two field guns, and why was there no reserve? He scanned both wings of the king's army searching for the gaudy colors of the king's horseguard. They were with Prince Rupert's cavalry on the northern wing.

  "Do you want one,” a voice called Daniel's mind back to his saddle and Femke.

  Daniel looked down. There was a young militia ensign handing an orange sash up to him. "What is it?"

  "It's the orange sash of the Earl of Essex. Our side will have orange sashes, while the king's side will wear red."

  "Do you have any to spare?" Daniel asked, thinking of his clansmen on the other side of the field. Swapping a red sash for an orange one may be the difference between life and death for them.

  "No spares, but you can have this one,” the ensign replied.

  He took it and tied it loosely to his bedroll. "Lad, is this your squad?" He pointed to the closest pikemen and musketeers, each of which now had an orange sash tied on their bodies somewhere.

  "Ensign Arthur Young at your service sir. Yes these men report to me."

  "Here Arthur, take a look at those two field guns directly in front of you,” Daniel said as he passed the lad his looker. "You look through the narrow end with your good eye and then push or pull the outer pipe to focus it."

  Arthur played with it for a little while and then pulled it away from his eye and held it far away from his body. "Is it witchcraft?"

  "Nay, just Dutch science. Just two spectacle lenses set up to look through each other. Now focus on those guns. Got them?" Daniel asked. When Arthur nodded he said, "Now look just to the south of them. Do you see that first group of pikemen?" When the lad nodded he said, "They are clansmen of mine. They were pressed into the service of the king against their will otherwise they would be standing here with you."

  Some of the Arthur's pikemen and musketeers had moved forward to take a turn on the looker. Daniel nodded to the lad to let them. "Take a good look at those pikemen to the south of those guns. They are not your enemy, and you are not theirs. Eventually these two armies will clash and they will try to surrender to you so that they can change sides. You must allow it to happen. You must not fight them. You must not hurt them. They are not your enemy."

  "Then who are our enemy?" asked another lad who was wearing one of his mom's kitchen pots as a helmet.

  "The officers and gentleman ... especially the aristocrats,” Daniel replied. "Including the king and his sons and their cousins. If the king or his princes are killed or captured it will shorten this battle and save thousands of lives. Lives of men like you.

  Now listen to me. When you meet the enemy to do battle, my clansmen will not fight you unless you force them to in self defense. That will leave a squad of the king's musketeers without the protection of pikes while reloading. If you can scare them into running away back up the slope, then there will be a hole in the middle of the king's infantry. You must keep that hole open as long as you can. And remember, your real enemy are the officers and gentlemen, not the other lads on this field. Officers are your prime targets."

  "Bullshit,” called out an older man with more experience than the lads around him. "Our enemy is anything that is trying to kill us. All of that bloody cavalry on the other side is our enemy. Them guns is our enemy. We volunteered to fight here but we didn't volunteer to be mowed down by sabres and grapeshot."

  "And if the cavalry and guns were no longer a danger to you?" Daniel asked.

  The elder laughed in his face and then spat on the ground. "Then we mow down them musketeers and run up that bloody hill and capture bloody Charlie, just for you."

  "I won't hold you to that, but I will hold you to the promise that you won't hurt anyone who refuses to fight you. Oye, give the old man a turn on the looker." While it was being passed around Daniel was wracking his mind for what else he could do to try and save his clansmen. Nothing came to mind so he decided to go and ask Balfour for advice. He took his looker back and then turned Femke towards the southern wing of cavalry.

  As he rode along the line of pikemen he wondered why the king's big guns up the slope had yet to fire the ranging shots that any good gunner would use to calibrate the distance from that height. It was a mystery, but he was quite happy that the king's field guns on the flats had also stayed quiet.

  It was interesting the differences between the two armies now lined up and ready to fight. The clothing for one. Since one of the major supporters of Parliament was the cloth industry ... the mercers and weavers and dyers and fullers of the towns ... many of their regiments, both horse and foot, wore uniforms with each regiment sporting a different colored coat. They looked very much like a Dutch army.

  There were no uniforms in the king's army. Their flying regiments wore expensive and fashionable well cut clothing of costly fabrics in all colors, as if they were on their way to a gentleman's club to hump some expensive harlots. Their infantry wore homespun and leather as if they would be going haying after the battle was done. It looked very much like an army from the days before gunpowder.

  More mysteries were happening ahead on Daniel's course to the southern wing. A rider had left parliament's cavalry and was racing over to the king's cavalry. About the time that Daniel saw Balfour surrounded by cavalry officers, that same rider was again on the move, but this time just to the center of the field where he waved a signal.

  He sidled Femke close to Balfour, but the man was too busy to speak with him. An entire company of parliament's cavalry were walking their horses into the middle of the field to join the mystery rider, and once they got there they all took off their orange sashes, held them high over the
ir heads and then dropped them into the dust. The entire company then rode quickly over to where Prince Rupert was assembling his flying army for the battle.

  The weakness of Essex's army was the shortage of true cavalry, and he had just lost an entire company. Worse ... for they had not just lost the company, but the company was now swelling Rupert's ranks, so a double loss. Balfour began cursing the name of Faithful Fortescue, obviously the major of the turncoats. "Faithful, Faithful to whom, eh? He thinks he has chosen the winning side. Well we'll show him."

  Daniel pulled out his looker to see if he could pick out this Faithful man. On the other side of the field, not all was going well for Faithful. Prince Rupert's skirmishers were unaware that he had just changed sides and had opened fire on them in the confusion of some orange sashes still showing on the horses. Perhaps a third of the turncoats were hit, or their horses were hit by carbine balls. Both sides of the field were now cheering. Rupert's cavalry to welcome the turncoats, and Balfour's at the immediate downfall of so many of them.

  Frisians had a reputation for being tight fisted like Scots, but in truth they simply abhorred waste, whether of food, coin, or opportunity. Daniel didn't dwell on the loss of the cavalry company, or that Balfour was now too busy to speak with him. Instead he rode Femke out into the centre of the field, dismounted, and wandered about picking up the orange sashes. It was an evil deed indeed that did no good for anyone.

  When he had about thirty of them he remounted and rode Femke back to where Balfour was, or used to be, for Balfour was no long there. The battle was about to begin in earnest and the Scot had gone back to the middle of the line to command the mounted reserve of cuirassiers. Daniel rode to catch up with him. The reserve cavalry were mostly dismounted and making the last adjustments to saddle leathers, or making sure their mounts had a last long drink of water from the buckets being carried about by lads too young to fight. Balfour was still mounted and taking a snort of something from a flask. He was perhaps thirty yards behind Ensign Young's squad of musketeers and pikemen."

  "Did you tell Bedford that the king has no mounted reserve?" was Daniels first words as he rode up to Balfour.

  "I told him, but he didn't react. I expected him to ride immediately and report it to Essex."

  "Perhaps he didn't understand the importance of the news."

  "No one is that stupid."

  Daniel said nothing for a moment. It was a better response than all the quips about the Earl of Bedford that came to his mind. "I have some clansmen to the south of Lindsey's two field guns."

  "So you have told me."

  "How can I keep them safe once this battle begins."

  "You can't, not until those field guns are silenced. They will just have to take their chances like the rest of us." Balfour's mood had certainly turned sour. It must have been the loss of Faithful's cavalry. "Here, let me have a go on your looker again." At first Balfour scanned the entire battlefield, but eventually he focused on the field guns ahead of them. "Why the bloody hell is Lindsey still with those gunners? Very strange." He looked again. "Is there any way you can get a message to your men. If they can stop those guns from being loaded for say five minutes, my cuirassiers can be safely across the field to them."

  "It's worth a try,” Daniel said, taking back his looker, "Have one of your men keep a watch on those guns. If I can arrange for them to be silenced, there will be a signal."

  "What signal."

  "I don't know yet, so tell him to watch carefully. He will know the signal when he sees it."

  Daniel rode slowly forward through the lines of nervous men to find the ensign, Arthur, again. When he found him he dismounted and then pulled a long thin bundle of sacking free of the saddle straps and began unwrapping it. Meanwhile Arthur borrowed his looker and sat on Femke so he could have a better view of what was happening on the battlefield. The first thunder of a cannonade almost made the lad jump down from Femke.

  "Tell me what is happening,” Daniel said without looking up from loading the long deer rifle.

  "Our cannons sent some balls towards the king's big guns on the slope. They missed. Smoke on the slope. The king's big guns just fired." Then came the boom like thunder. "They seem to be shooting at the northern most line of our infantry. I wish that our cannons, what there is of them, would target them bloody field guns we are facing. Is there no way Essex can delay this battle until the rest of our cannons arrive?"

  "I was surprised when the bloody king didn't attack us this morning when all our officers were in church. The king seems to have been waiting for us to attack him. He can't wait any longer. With every hour more of your army arrives from Worcester." Daniel glanced up at the sun. "Must be almost three o'clock. What time does the sun go down these days? Five?"

  "Why aren't those field guns across from us firing at us?"

  "Too long a range for grape so you are still safe. The big guns will be lobbing balls at our north wing to demoralize our pikemen before Rupert's cavalry charge. You ever see a ball go through a line of men lad? It goes through them like a bowling ball through skittles. Not nice to see or to think off, but balls do far less damage than grape. Our cannons will be trying to silence theirs. Not much hope of that."

  "You were right," Arthur said. "their cavalry are moving forward. Jesus there are a lot of them. Oh my god. They are barely across the center of the field and already our northern pike men are falling back from them."

  "That will be Prince Rupert’s heavy cavalry. All of you lot,” Daniel called out to the pike men around him. "remember that no cavalryman in his right mind will skewer his own horse on your pike. Your best chance of surviving a cavalry charge is to plant and angle your pike into the charge and keep low to the ground." In a quieter voice he mumbled to himself, "Of course, that is easier to keep in mind when you aren't facing a thousand charging horses."

  "Our cavalry is attacking the flank of the king's cavalry. Pistols. They are shooting at them with pistols. I can tell by the smoke. I have to wait while it clears. Oh no. Our cavalry is running away and the kings cavalry is chasing them. Oh no."

  "What about the northern pikemen?"

  "They are moving back into line,” Arthur told him. "Oh no, now even the cavalry that weren't on the first charge with Prince Rupert are chasing our cavalry. It's a rout. Our cavalry have been routed. Oh those poor men."

  "Have they caught up to any yet?"

  "No, I don't think so, but they are getting too far away to tell. All the horses are galloping north away from the battlefield."

  "What about the cavalry to the south."

  Arthur twisted around in the saddle to look south. "It's the same. Our cavalry is running away from the king's cavalry. Every horse on the field seems to be galloping south."

  "What is the king's infantry doing?" Daniel asked as he pushed his way through the pikemen to the front of the line and then set up a little mound of clumps of earth to rest the muzzle of the deer rifle on. "Here, you lot. Give me some room. And keep quiet if you see me aiming at something."

  "Yer wastin' yer time. They won't be in range until they's halfway across the field,” the same grumpy elder from before told him.

  "It's rifled,” Daniel explained. "and I am shooting an oversized ball and using silk as the cloth. You'll see. Arthur what are the king's infantry doing?"

  "On each wing they are moving forward but not here in the center where we are. They've been marching forward on the wings ever since our wings shied from their cavalry. They are almost to our line,” Arthur kept up the commentary by swinging the looker back and forth from wing to wing. "Still no movement ahead of us."

  "Good. Keep your eye on that officer beside the field guns right in front of me. Try to see if my ball goes high or low, north or south of him. Now the rest of you shut the fuck up." With that Daniel aimed the rifle. He had learned a lesson about range the last time he had fired it, so this time he unscrewed the sighting knurl all the way. He could see Lindsey but he seemed no larger than the muzzle. The
re was nothing for it but to aim directly at his chest and hope for the best. Better too high than too low.

  He squeezed the trigger. Click, spark, flash, fizzle, fizzle, boom, choking smoke and ash flew out of the vent and floated back onto his cheek and into his beard. Everyone around him was hushed. Everyone was staring across the battlefield. And then cheers.

  "You hit him, you hit him,” Arthur yelled out. "Yes, in the crotch or the thigh. He is down. The other officers around him are running towards him. What a...." His description was cut off as Daniel hauled the lad out of the saddle, grabbed his looker out of his fingers and replaced him on Femke's saddle. With a kick Femke sprang to a run and pikemen were leaping sideways out of her way.

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  The Pistoleer - Edgehill by Skye Smith Copyright 2013-14

  Chapter 26 - The Battle for Edgehill, November 1642

  "Faster, faster, run you little beauty,” Daniel whispered into Femke's ear. He was riding leaned forward over her front shoulders so that her back end was light so all the power of her hind legs could be used for leaping forwards. He had to reach those field guns before the officers that had gathered around the wounded Lindsey realized that he was on his way. He first ran her at an angle southwards to stay out of the direct line of fire of the field guns, but at half way he turned and angled directly towards the gunners behind the field guns.

  He could see his clansmen clearly now, not by their position but by the basket weave packs they had moved from their backs to their chests as extra protection against grape or musket balls or pikes. As children all fens folk learned to weave baskets and mats, and those packs would be tightly woven. They may not stop a musket ball but they would slow it from a killing shot to a bruising shot. They would do the same to the slash of a sabre.

  One of the officers leaning over Lindsey had seen him. He was standing up. He was looking towards the gunners. He was going to give the order to blow the single charging rider to bits. And then the officer was lifted off his feet by the pike that had been run through him from behind by one of his own pikemen. A pikeman with a basket weave pack. Femke flew passed the clot of officers and all the while Daniel was blowing on his whistle. Blowing and blowing and blowing to wake all his clansmen up.

 

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