by Smith, Skye
"So I still don't understand how you ended up as a diplomatic shuttle."
"I'm getting there. Two days later, we've unloaded in London and we are heading back to Wellenhay to spend Freyja’s Yule, when a southbound Navy ship hails us off Felixstowe."
"Rich?” Daniel guessed.
"Exactly. He's sunk five of them ships but the best two got away, and his other two warships are still up north chasing them. He hands us a diplomatic pouch and tells us that it must reach The Hague that day. That was how I met Walter Strickland, parliament's Ambassador to the United Provinces. In the pouch was a complaint to the Stats-General, er, that's the Dutch parliament, that a convoy of seven ships filled with men had left neutral Holland with the purpose of invading England. Well see, it wasn't just me who forgot to say that they were small ships."
"Did Goring make it to Newcastle?"
"Dunno, do I. Strickland sent us back to London to pick up some more diplomats to help him counter Henrietta's influence in The Hague. That we did, no problem, but then the big freeze hit and we were stuck over in Holland for weeks. Now we are on our way to take the same diplomats back to London, to discuss everything that's going on in The Hague with Pym and the reformers in parliament. And that won't be the end of it, not now that we've seen Admiral Tromp hisself escorting Henrietta's invasion convoy. Pym is sure to send the diplomats back to The Hague. Danny, I can't stand hangin' about with all them nobs and diplomats in The Hague. For one thing I don't understand half the words they use. I can't wait to get back to Wellenhay and some real people."
"Wait, what did you say?” Daniel interrupted, and then shot a telling glance at Rob. "The escort ships were of the Dutch Navy and commanded by Maarten Tromp.” He thumped the table hard enough to make all the pots jump. "NO! It can't be! I know the man from when he handed me the Swift. It doesn't make sense. Tromp is a staunch Calvinist republican. Why would he be helping Catholic Queen Henrietta?"
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The Pistoleer - Invasion by Skye Smith Copyright 2013-15
Chapter 23 - With Diplomats in London in February 1643
"Why would Admiral van Tromp be helping Henrietta?” Daniel asked Isaac Dorislaus, the half-Dutch diplomat he was taking to London in the Swift. Isaac was alone for once, because his two assistants were standing on the aft castle bothering the helmsman with navigation questions. Isaac was alone at the desk in the "office” that Anso had created for his diplomatic passengers in the main hold of the ship. When Anso had first shown the office to Rob and Daniel, they had erupted in gales of laughter, for the crew had acquired, or perhaps stolen, a great sprung carriage from some noble, and had used a crane to drop it down into the open cargo hold of the ship.
With the wheels firmly secured it could not shift or roll, but the sprung suspension still worked. The result was a bright "office” complete with table and padded leather seats where the diplomats could read and write in comfort during their long journeys. Bright because of the glass windows. Comfortable because the two leather cushioned benches were long enough to allow two men to sleep there, and the padded interior walls muffled the wind, cold and sounds.
It was an inventive solution to the accommodation problem of a working cargo ship. The Swift had originally been a fighting galliot, which meant it had a fore castle and aft castle with cabins underneath them, but a large cargo hatch had been cut through the main deck, leaving just a narrow deck running along each of the gunnels for use by oarsmen and cannons. This layout allow for only three cabins, all of which were low, dark, plain and functional.
The small fore cabin, under the bow castle, was used as shelter by the bow watch during rough weather, but otherwise it served as a sail and rope locker, and to house the bowchaser cannon, an eight pounder that could be fired through a front facing hatch. The slightly larger command cabin was under the aft castle. The third and largest cabin, the crew's quarters, was also aft but underneath the command cabin where it shared the lower deck with the cargo hold. Though it had about twice the floor area of the command cabin, it had even less headroom. The only man aboard who could stand full height in any of the cabins was Robert Blake.
"A moment please,” Isaac replied as he looked up as Daniel sat across from him. "Let me finish this thought and blot the ink.” His forethought and penmanship were a remarkable gift that sped up his work, as he was often able to present his rough drafts as finished pieces. "There, done, now what was your question? Ah yes Tromp.” He was an amateur historian, and his time spent with these traditional clansmen from the Fens had opened his thoughts to new ways of viewing history, so he relished his time speaking with them. "Simply put, Admiral Maarten Tromp is under the command of the Admiral-General Fredrick Henry, the Prince of Orange and therefore the Stadtholder of Holland. Tromp will have been following orders."
"This is all about the marriage of William and Mary, isn't it?"
"Not really,” Isaac replied, "but it is a factor. Henrietta's hope was that Mary would marry a Catholic king, but she was refused by Spain. Prince William of Orange was a more palatable choice than Prince Karl of Bohemia. What it is really all about is the treaty between the United Provinces and France. That is the treaty that has joined their efforts against Austria and Spain. Henrietta is sister to the King of France, and I suppose that France has threatened to cancel the treaty unless Frederick Henry helps Henrietta's invasion convoy to reach England."
"You mean to say that the Dutch Republics would rather help Catholic France, than help create a protestant republic in England?” Daniel asked and then punched at the plush interior of the office.
"Before you cast stones, please look at it from the Dutch point of view,” Isaac scolded softly. "The Dutch are building up a republican empire that is stretching itself around the world. The sun never sets on the Dutch Empire. Their historic enemy on land and on the sea has always been the Spanish Empire, and now, therefore, the Austrians. The treaty with France keeps their borders safe enough that they can send their men and ships out all over the world. France has cut off all land access to Dunkirk so one of these months the Dutch will conquer it, and then their home ports will be safe from Dunkirker raiders and from any more Spanish invasion armadas. In the great scheming of empires, England is nothing. That is why Strickland's convincing of the Stats-General to declare the United Provinces neutral in our civil war was such a feat of diplomacy."
"So Tromp is acting under orders,” Daniel sighed.
"As I have said. Now, do you have time to sit with me and tell me more of your clan's history and traditions? The little that Captain Anso told me has left me with a thirst to know more."
"Why do you want to know?"
"I am writing a treatise proving how democratic England was before the Norman Conquest, but as you can imagine, my sources are few and since that time all written history has been twisted about to serve the view of the ruling classes. The oral history that Anso was telling me had my mind racing in new directions."
"Give me an hour on deck while we pass Lowestoft,” Daniel told the historian diplomat, "and then I will join you. Which do you prefer with your history lesson, wine or genever?"
* * * * *
Traveling through London was almost a pleasure during this, the second big freeze of the winter. All of the putrification that gave the city its usual funk of smells was now frozen. Even the night soil was freezing as soon as it was laid down. There had been a disruption of coal shipments from Newcastle, so folk were using coal sparingly in their hearths, which meant that the filthy blackness of that dusty smoke had not yet dirtied all of the pure whiteness which had fallen from the skies. Londoners most likely would not have agreed with this point of view.
Londoners were short on food and fuel, and were therefore wearing everything they owned in an effort to keep warm, or at least not get too cold. Once you got cold it was tough to get warm again. Despite the hardships set for them by the cold, everyone had work or the promise of work, so the city was peaceful. T
here were no political rallies because the hated king was in hiding far away, and because the freeze was a hardship on rich and poor alike. But mostly the city was peaceful because it was too blasted cold to be out on the streets making trouble.
Just as in Wellenhay where the folk had moved into fewer on room cottages so they could share the food and warmth, so it was in London that the people moved into fewer rooms. The great mansions of the Strand and Westminster and Holborn were vacant and left to the ice, in favour of smaller manors that you could actually keep warm. An easy way to meet your neighbours was to light a fire, for they would come knocking to share in its warmth. The bakers were the most popular folk in town, and had endless offers of help with the bakeries. Anything to get warm for an hour, or two.
The streets were empty or almost empty for most of the day and all of the night. The traffic was light, so the city was almost quiet. The tens of thousands that usually slept out on the pavements and in the alcoves, had disappeared. They had all taken up a new cause, the 'occupy' cause. The cause of those who were advocating the return to the North Sea tradition of reclaiming unused land and unused buildings for the common good. The houses of royalists who had fled London were now sheltering those tens of thousands who last winter had suffered homelessness. The absence of so many good-for-nowt royalists was God sent to save the lives of the folk during the big freeze, or so many of the once-homeless were spouting, interspersed with appropriate quotes from the bible. Bible thumping preachers were now never short of audiences so long as they offered folk shelter for the night.
In the shops and markets, lightly used extravagances such as French-made dining chairs were being sold for next to nothing, for the supply of them was fed by those that were occupying and stripping the vacant houses of the royalists, while the demand for them was small at a time when spare coins were saved for food and fuel. London and the usual values of Londoners had been turned upside down. A warm home spun cloak had more value than a finely made gentleman's cape. The heavy wooden box that protected fine dishes was worth more for its firewood than the dishes it held.
"Or perhaps it is more accurate to say that the values of Londoners have finally been turned right side up.” Isaac Dorislaus corrected Daniel's insight, as Daniel knocked on John Pym's door. The door opened immediately and they were hurried inside the house so the door could be slammed to keep the cold out. The front hallway was crowded with men dressed like undertakers, none of whom were warm enough yet to remove their woolen cloaks. The steamy funk from so much damp and dirty wool was making the air un-breathable.
As soon as Isaac was announced, everyone immediately wanted to speak with him, but he was hurried through the crowd of parliamentarians and into a small study, a room which was actually quite warm. Warm enough to make one want to take off a winter cloak. Daniel kept up to Isaac and slipped into the warmth before the guard could close the door in his face. There were only five men in the room, not including Isaac, and one of them, old John Pym, was reclined on a day bed and looking ghastly pale. They had been warned to expect this, but nothing could prepare them for their first sight of leader of the Reform Party. He was a man dying by inches.
The world seemed to stop still as the sick man was handed a sheaf of papers by Isaac, and the room stayed silent while he read them. Pym's mind was still vibrant even though his body was not. For a long while the only sound in the room was the crackle of the wood fire, the occasional cough, and the sliding and turning of heavy paper. When Pym had finished his reading, he took a sip of tea to moisten his throat, and then asked, "So Henrietta’s convoy sailed and then was turned back by the storm. Does anyone know for sure whether she returned to Holland or waited out the storm and then continued on to the Humber?"
"It is too soon to know that,” Isaac replied. "My own ship took shelter in Great Yarmouth until the worst of the winds had blown through. I cannot think that any ship could have endured such winds at sea for days and days. All communication by land and sea came to a standstill, so as I have said, it is too soon to know.” Isaac cleared his throat. "There is more to report that was never written down. Henrietta's ships were escorted by four Dutch warships commanded by none other than Maarten Tromp.” You could have heard a pin drop.
"So the Frederick of Orange has finally dropped all pretense,” Pym finally spoke. "He can no longer claim that Holland merely chartered the ships to Henrietta. However, it is not a large escort as naval squadrons go. Surely our fleet can still stop them, should it be ordered to do so by our Earl Admiral Rich.” There were grunted agreements from all present. All except for one.
"Not bloody likely,” Daniel called out from where he was warming his hands by the fire. Everyone stared daggers at him.
"Move out of the way all of you,” Pym called out weakly, "so I can see the man who spoke.” Everyone jumped to his bidding. "Ah Daniel. Welcome back to London. And are you still Warwick's man?"
"Aye sir, but three years ago I was Admiral Tromp's man when he defeated the Spanish and Portuguese Armada in the Downs off the coast of Deal."
"Shush all of you so I can hear him. Please tell us more, captain."
"In order to beat the two mightiest navies in the world, the Dutch had to reinvent their navy. Reinvent their ships, their cannons, and their strategies. The Battle of the Downs was the proving ground of their reinvented navy. The Armadas lost 40 ships and 6,000 men at the cost of one Dutch ship and a hundred men. Now it is the Dutch navy that rules the sea, and the sun never sets on their empire.
Meanwhile the English navy is still modeled after the Spanish. No English captain would be fool enough to challenge a Dutch ship-of-the-line, not after the Downs. An English warship is a fat, wallowing, multipurpose vessel with an odd assortments of cannons. A Dutch warship is purposefully built for one purpose, to give and take cannonades. Our balls will bounce off their hulls, while their balls will punch holes in ours."
"Thank you Daniel. As usual you have cut through courtly doublespeak and have told us the ugly truth. Isaac, go and rest while I draft a formal response to the Stats-General and a matching suggestions for our navy. Of course there will be other messages, verbal messages, but they too must wait for the morning. With luck by then my cabinet will have approved them and you can return to The Hague. Hopefully Henrietta's convoy will have returned there, but for all we know, she could be in York by now.” It was a polite dismissal from a very busy, very ill man.
Isaac bowed slightly and turned to leave, but behind him Daniel spoke out once more. "John, another moment please. Have you noticed how the homeless of London have occupied the building's left vacant by the royalists?” He didn't wait for an answer for only a fool would not have noticed. "This 'occupy' movement has saved countless lives from the winter freezes. It is a telling lesson for the coming spring. The kingdom is short of food. The landless must be encouraged to occupy the fields left un-ploughed by the royalists. The folk must be promised our army's protection to assure them that they will eat well from what they plant this spring."
Silence. No one else in the room spoke to the issue. It told Daniel volumes. They were so busy thinking about how to bring the king to heel that they had given no thought to the greater issues facing the kingdom, such as food and fuel. He turned to follow Isaac out of the room.
"Daniel,” Pym called out to his back. "Again I must thank you for your brutal honesty. I will present it to the Committee of Safety for their advisement. As you say, there is a need and a precedent, though I must admit that I like it best for its irony."
With a wave and a nod and a smile, Daniel gave his fare-thee-well to the sick gent, and then followed Isaac back out into hallway crowded with parliamentarians with petitions for Pym. He felt like humming so he did. Those few words from Pym were alone worth this journey to London. If the Committee of Safety allowed squatters to farm unused fields, or better still, protected their right to do so, then the rule of landlords would be turned upside down. Or was that right side up? Wouldn't it be nice if the women
and children won something from this war, rather than always being the losers.
* * * * *
"You were warned by Anso that this was likely to happen,” Daniel told Robert Blake as the Swift sailed down the Thames on its way back to The Hague. "What part of 'diplomatic shuttle' did you not understand about his description of the Swift's charter?"
"I'm not complaining about making the crossing back to The Hague,” Rob replied, "but of how little time I had in London. I barely had time enough to report to army headquarters, never mind enquire as to the whereabouts of Colonel Ruthven and my company. I stood for hours in a hallway filled with army captains and never did get to speak to anyone who really knew what was going on."
Isaac was about to tell about how he and Daniel had pushed through such a hallway and secured an immediate meeting with John Pym, but Daniel was shaking his head at him. He decided to save the story for later, when Rob's feathers were not so ruffled. Instead he told Rob, "I wish the Swift to return to The Hague on the same course that we came by. That means via Yarmouth. We could set you ashore there, if you would like."
"Nay, it cannot be,” Rob grumbled. "Danny has clansmen enough aboard for sailing the Swift in fair weather but not enough for foul, not without my men. Besides, I think I would be an asset to your diplomatic mission in The Hague. I was a member of Parliament you know.” He neglected to mention that he had been a member for only the three weeks of the Short Parliament.
"We will not refuse any help from a know reformer,” Isaac replied in his fluent Dutch, just to test Blakes own knowledge of the language, "though you may regret the offering once you see how Den Haag works, or rather, does not work. The Stats-General represents a confederation of eight republican provinces, which means it is far more divisive than our own parliament. You will soon learn to detest the imbecility in the government, the discord among the provinces, and the corruptive influences of the foreign influence and indignities. In the republics, any peace has a precarious existence, while any war leaps from calamity to calamity."
