by Smith, Skye
The two sets of gunners were alike in their poor hearing, and their powder burned skin, and frizzled hair and eyelashes, but whereas the army gunners stood ramrod straight and tall, the navy gunners were bowed like Barbary apes. The bowed stance was due to working with heavy loads under the low ceilings of navy gun decks, of course, but this was the first time that Daniel had noticed that the navy gunners didn't stand up straight even when they weren't on a ship.
They all went outside to claim their horses and tie their gear to the saddles, and there Daniel noticed another difference between army and navy gunners. The army gunners were well used to riding, kicking, beating and man handling beasts of burden, including horses, whereas the navy gunners seemed to know nothing about horses at all, and certainly not how to ride them.
"Can't we ride in the powder cart?” asked one of the ship's gunners, who his mates called Boomer.
"No time for carts,” Daniel replied. "The powder kegs are loaded on pack horses.” There was a sound of hooves approaching and he looked up and noticed Jack's man Gal riding fast towards them from the direction of the armoury.
"Trouble comin'!” Gal yelled out, and then to the rest of his mates. "If yer wantin' ta keep them carbines, then mount up and follow me. The major is on his way to claim them back.” The ground in the lee of the broken church was suddenly a whirl of men and horses and dust and twenty men rode straight north at a good clip. The major would be the cavalry major who had originally ordered the weapons that Daniel had claimed in Waller's name; rifled carbines, steel chest armour, dragons, pistols and the short handled halberds the French called haches. The major wanted them back.
Jack, now mounted and turning his horse to follow Gal, called out over his shoulder to Daniel, "We'll wait for you on the Singleton road!” and was gone with all of his men, and Daniel's tradesmen militia.
The six gunners gave him the bent eye. "Wut's up?” asked Boomer.
"No worries mate, it just that some cavalry troop thinks we stole their carbines and armour,” Daniel replied.
He heard a call from afar and he turned to face it expecting to see a major and a troop of cavalry. Instead it was from a column of prisoners dressed in skirts. A big man with a big beard was ignoring the guards who were trying to push him back into line, as he called out to Daniel. Daniel told the gunners not to wander away, and then he used his long shanks to stride over to the big man. He reached the column of Scots just in time to save three guards from a good pummeling by the Scottish sergeant they were bullying.
Daniel clasped him like a long lost brother, which was enough to convince the guards to go back to guarding the still moving troop of prisoners. "So you're on your way to the ships. Is it to Scotland, then, or to Ireland?"
"Scotland? In the winter? Are yee mad man? Tis to balmy Ulster that we are bound,” the big Scot said as he drew back and held out his hand for a shake. His hand dwarfed Daniels, but his grip was firm rather than crushing. "I came to say that if you are ever cast ashore on the Hebrides, just tell them you are a friend of the Macleod. Any friend of Iain Mor will be welcomed. Er.. just don't say this to a Campbell."
A call came from behind Daniel, and Iain looked over his shoulder at a major riding a dark horse and leading a half dozen fresh faced gentlelads. "Captain Vanderus. I've come to collect what is mine,” the same voice bellowed louder. It was the cavalry major that Daniel had slighted in Waller's armoury. He quite deliberately and rudely maneuvered his horse between the two tall men who had been saying their fare-thee-wells. The move was meant to flex his authority, but there was an unintended consequence.
"You careless sod,” Iain complained, "yer bloody horse almost crushed me foot.” Without any warning, he lifted the portly officer completely out of his saddle, and with the man still suspended above his head, he kicked the horse hard in the ass. The horse leaped away, and once out of the way, Iain slammed the officer down onto his own two legs, and then held him up so he would not fall down. "Now what was so urgent that it couldn't wait for a moment more?"
The major stared wide eyed at the huge Scot and tried to get his breath back. His cavalry escort dismounted and rushed towards Iain while pulling their sabres free. And then they froze in their tracks. Fifty men with blankets belted around them like skirts had been watching and those men had now ploughed through their guard and were running towards them to protect their clansman. Fifty men with fifty sinister daggers in fifty hands and fifty voices howling like wolves on the scent of their next meal.
"Iain, call your men off before their guards break the truce!” Daniel yelled out. "Major, order your men to sheath their sabres, now, before they are ripped to pieces.” The major still did not have the breath it took to speak, never mind yell out an order, but it was not required. The cavalry lads knew a sensible order when they heard it, and they all put their steel away and backed towards their horses. Iain didn't say a word. He just walked back toward the line of prisoners and gave his clansmen a hand signal, and those fifty men went back to their line and began helping their guards up off the ground to dust them off.
"Well met, and fare thee well,” Iain called back to Daniel as his men continued their march to the ships. "If you ever come to the Isle of Skye, we will drink my home made whiskey and remember Chichester."
Daniel's clan had been traders in Dutch genever for decades, but had also been trading in Scottish whiskey for three or four years. He knew Scotch for the foul murky stuff it was, so he was in no hurry to sample Iain's homemade brew. He waved to the Scots, and then turned to speak to the major. "You've come for your carbines, yes?"
"Indeed, and our fine steel armour,” the major replied hoarsely. "Hand them over, that is, please hand them over."
"I cannot. My skirmishers are away on a mission for Colonel Waller so they are still using it."
"A mission? What kind of mission? There is a truce. Every royalist of any worth is being loaded on those ships. What mission?"
"A skirmisher mission. You know. Ambushing and crippling our enemies, especially the officers and gentlemen,” Daniel told him. "They should be back in a week at the most. Come back then."
"I, I, I don't believe you,” the major hissed.
"Fine, then come back tomorrow and the next and the next after that. In the meantime I have business with them six gunners over there, so I must beg your leave.” He walked away from the major, and began calling to the gunners to get their attention. "Time to mount up men. The horses would prefer it if you did that on their port side.” The faster they got away from this troublesome major, the better.
* * * * *
There had been reports of Prince Rupert's flying squads plaguing the roads to and from Winchester, so for most of the way towards Farnham, Jack and his men had spread out as out-riders, while Daniel, his militia tradesmen, and the six gunners rode in a column along the road. Despite the reports, and their nervous alertness, the road had been peaceful.. They carried one of Waller's standards so that the local villagers and farmers would not fear that they were a royalist foraging party, out to thieve. Despite this, most buildings along the way were empty by the time they reached them. Not abandoned, mind you, but empty just the same, with the folk in hiding, their animals in hiding, their valuables in hiding, their winter stores in hiding, and especially, their daughters in hiding.
To pass the time as they rode together, Daniel was telling the gunners what he had learned about gunpowder while helping a young Welsh miner blow things up. This was not easy to do since the gunners, especially the navy gunners, were so hard of hearing. He was going hoarse from having to yell every word across the horses. "No, we wouldn't have been able to blow stout gates down just using loose powder!” he yelled yet again.
"Unless you encase gunpowder it does not explode. It just fizzles and burns. Quickly and hot for sure, but with no explosive power.” How could men who fired cannons for a living be so ignorant about what an explosion actually was? "The explosion is not the powder, but the smoke. Some of the smoke is w
hite and grey and you can see it, but most of the smoke is invisible. It is the invisible smoke that forces balls from barrels at high speed. Not the powder burning, or the white smoke. If the powder weren't trapped in the barrel by the ball, then the force of the invisible smoke would be wasted. The explosion IS the smoke."
"So that is why you use the bells and seal them with canvas,” Boomer confirmed. "So that the powder is kept together until the invisible smoke belches out of the bell and its force blows the gate down like a storm wind?"
Finally someone understood. "Yes, exactly, thank you Boomer. It is the invisible smoke that does all the damage, so the most important thing is to direct it. A cannon directs it up the barrel. And not just like a storm wind. Even the big winds of the Caribbean cannot lift a cannon ball. The French fart blows a wind that is far faster than any storm wind could ever blow. It must blow faster than the cannon ball it shoots, and we all know that cannon balls race their own sound. It is the speed that gives it the force. I have seen a fart tear into a stone wall and in a minute do as much work as would take fifty men working a long hard day."
"So why don't we have any bells on the pack horses, if we are going to need them?” Boomer asked.
"Because Saint Sepulture church took its bells back when we didn't use them at Chichester,” Hubert the bricklayer replied.
"There are bells at every church everywhere, and I know there is already a bell in Farnham,” Daniel replied. "We last used it to blow down the castle gate."
"I don't give a shit about bloody church bells, so long as I sleep in a real bed tonight,” said another of the navy gunners. "I've been sleeping in a short hammock on a rockin' ship fer three months now. And I want a woman, a woman willing to give me French kisses even if it costs extra."
"Well I may be able to find you a real bed,” Daniel replied, "but don't count on the other. You are inland now, not on the coast. The women of farming village are not as worldly or as easy or as cheap as the port doxies. You must have noticed the change for yourself with every village we past through. We left brazen looks, deep cleavage, and brightly colored skirts when we left Chichester. In that last village every woman was dressed for mourning, and they were trying their damndest to look plain."
The gunner stared back at him thoughtfully. "Can't blame them for that, I suppose, not with the Devil Prince's flying squads ridin' about a lootin' and a rapin'. So be it. I can forgo a woman warming my bed, but I must have the bed.” He would have said more, but the sound of gun shots from ahead of them on the road made his next words not worth saying.
"Gunners!” Daniel yelled out at the top of his lungs to gain their attention. "Stay with the pack animals, block the road, and shoot your dragons at the eyes of anyone who comes within ten feet.” The six gunners all carried navy boarding guns, which were hand cannons pretending to be large calibre dragons pistols. What else would you expect from cannoneers.
"Militia! Follow me! Form two columns, one on each edge of the road. A dragon in one hand and a pistol in the other.” His ten tradesmen split into two lines and followed him towards the shots. They did not ride fast, for they were all fumbling with holsters and flint dogs while holding the reins in their teeth.
Around the next bend in the road there was a thicket of trees, bushes and brambles, and in it were four strangers sitting on their horses, each with both hands behind their necks. One of Jack's men was moving from one to the other binding the hands together. Once a man's hands were bound he could leave go of his neck and settle his hands in front of him. "Found them setting up an ambush,” Jack called out to Daniel.
"We were doing no such thing,” one of the bound men cried out in an educated voice. "How could the four of us, armed only with our swords, ambush a troop of well armed soldiers. Don't be absurd. We were hiding from you until you were past. Then we would have been peacefully on our way."
Daniel had to admit that what the man had said made sense. He would have let them go immediately except that he didn't want to undermine Jack's authority. "Who are you and where were you going?"
"I am William ..."
"He didna' mean your names,” Jack growled at him. "He meant your work. Your sabres, horses and clothes mark you as being cavalryers, yet you have no armour nor guns. Explain yourselves."
"We surrendered in Chichester to Colonel Waller, but the transport ships were too crowded with richer, more important men, so we were given our horses, blades and our freedom. We were on our way to our homes."
"What d'ya think Jack?” Daniel asked. "Let'em go? They are no threat to us."
Jack's horse circled the four men, while Jack stared hard at everything about them. He gave one of the young men a hard stare, which caused the man to look down at his saddle. "You there, how did you get those scratches on your cheek? If you tell me the brambles made them marks, I'll put a ball in your leg.” He continued to stare at the man's face hoping to catch the man's eyes while he replied. No such luck.
The man continued to stare at his saddle while he replied, "A farmers daughter in the next hamlet. She took offense at my roving hands."
"This one's got a scratched face too, Jack,” Early spoke from the other side of the four men. "And a bitten lip. Shoot the bugger in the leg."
"No!” the first prisoner cried out. "Alright, we did more than just grope them. We had them good and proper."
"Them?” Jack interrupted. "You said one."
"One woman each, but we did no harm to them other than a good rogering. I swear it."
"And what did you swear to Colonel Waller?” Daniel asked calmly, "so that you could ride home with your horse and blade. If I recall the oath said something about going directly home, with no looting, molesting, or troubling the folk along the way. You were even allowed a small purse so that you could pay your way."
"Breaking that oath is a hanging offence, Danny,” Jack said in a voice loud enough for all to hear, including the six gunners who were now riding up along the road. His words made four faces go very pale.
"I'll not hang a man without knowing the full truth,” Daniel replied. "I suppose that means we must find this hamlet and speak to the witnesses. Damn it, the days are short enough and the road to Farnham is long enough, without being sidetracked because of other peoples shit. Why don't we just let them go this time."
"Nay Danny,” Jack replied. "We only have their word that they left the women in good health. What if they left them too badly injured to take care of themselves. In this cold that could mean their death.” He held his pistol up to the closest prisoner's face and hissed, "Take us to this hamlet and show us the women."
* * * * *
* * * * *
The Pistoleer - Invasion by Skye Smith Copyright 2013-15
Chapter 11 - The Wrecking crew in Farnham in January 1643
As they rode up to the hamlet it was obvious why the prisoners had not called it a village. It was a collection of shelters on the south side of a low hill. The shelters were more like root cellars dug into the ground and covered with low thatched roofs, than like cottages. It was a form of shelter that was unknown to the folk of the Fens where Daniel came from, because in the Fens you couldn't dig down more than a foot without striking water. On this sloping land, however, they had carved out sod bricks and stacked them up as walls. For each sod they carved out, the floor went down and the wall went up, until it was high enough for a woman to stand up in. The thatch roof was made of lashed saplings with long autumn grasses laid over them and tied down.
"You see,” one of the prisoners said, "they are just squatters, and mostly women. They are nothing, worth nothing. All we did was hump a few of them."
"Did they ask you to? Did you pay them?” Jack asked. When the man shook his head he continued, "Then you did not just hump them. You must have held them down and taken them against their wishes. That is rape."
As they rode up to the hamlet the women all disappeared into their hovels with the children, and four men came out to meet them. None of them were
armed, not even with a pitchfork. Daniel called out to them before Jack could. This because Jack's distorted face had a habit of scaring people who had never set eyes on him before. "You need not fear us. We mean you no harm. We found these four young men hiding from us, and we think they have done your women a wrong. Please call out your women so that they can tell us what happened."
One of the farmers called back, "We may turn the other cheek as Christ taught, but we are not stupid. You may want the same thing from our women that those four took without our permission."
"Then bring forward only the women that were abused,” Daniel replied "We need them to tell us what happened and to swear to the truth of it, as evidence for the court martial of these four.” The farmer saw the sense in the words and sent a man to fetch the abused women. When the women came out and came close, it was difficult to believe that these four well bred cavalryers had even looked twice at them, never mind humped them. They were plain women, in plain homespun, and not young.
"Do any of you with to accuse any of these men of molesting you?” Daniel asked. The women were staring at the four young cavalryers.
"What will happen to them if we do?” one woman asked, without raising her eyes to his.
"These men rode under warrants of good behaviour so they will be tried for breaking that oath. Your statements against them will be read out at their court martial. The court will decide the punishment. If found guilty they may be imprisoned, but it is more likely that they will be hung so as to set an example to others under warrant."
"The brothers and sisters of our faith do not hold with oaths so our women will be of no help to you,” the farmer spoke out. "Besides, what is to stop the families of these men from punishing us many times over for speaking out against them. We are squatters living on a lord's unused field, so our position in this valley is tenuous."
"You are very well spoken for a squatter farmer,” Daniel replied. "Where do you hail from?"
