by Ann Swinfen
His mouth fell open and he looked frightened. ‘You mean we’ll be caught here, surrounded by water? Maybe not be able to get out?’ There was a note of panic in his voice.
‘Aye. That could happen. Unless you’re posted somewhere else before the floods.’
I noticed that our new rector, fat little Reverend Apsley, was listening. After all the sheep were herded on to the glebe land and settled down to graze, he took me aside.
‘Is that true, Mistress Bennington? Could we be marooned here?’
‘Quite likely, sir,’ I said cheerfully, enjoying his look of panic, which mirrored the soldier’s. ‘About three winters in four we’re cut off. As for this winter, with all the damage the drainers have done, who knows what will happen? I suspect the floods will be far worse, because they are draining the water away from the peat moors, which are supposed to absorb most of the waters. You may find yourself climbing the church tower for safety.’
I could see that he did not know whether or not I was exaggerating, but he was worried.
In the past we had had little to do with the people of Crowthorne. And little love for them either. But now that the drainers had moved into their parish, it seemed as though we might come to have common cause with them. They had taken no part in our earlier attacks on the works and the settlement, but now they saw that they too were threatened with the loss of their lands and the food we all garnered from the Fens. And like us they also made traps and baskets and hurdles and thatch from what grew there – the sallows and reeds and sedges. It had taken them months to awake to the dangers, but now we began to hear about one or two incidents of collapsed ditches and a broken sluice gate here and there. Van Slyke was not one to ignore even a minor attack and I was soon told by George that trouble was brewing.
‘It is nothing to do with us,’ I said. ‘Crowthorne is a different parish. There has been no trouble here for weeks.’
He gave me a curious sideways smile. I wondered whether he knew about what had happened here earlier in the year, and the part Tom and I had played in it.
‘It’s a word of caution only, mistress, that I’m giving you. For I do not think our captains make a distinction between the two parishes. It’s all one drainage scheme, you see, for this part of the Fen, so to them an attack is an attack. People may suffer for it.’
He said no more, but soon afterwards Jack visited us one day when the soldiers were away on duty, bringing news that someone over Crowthorne way had pulled down a pumping mill, like the one we had burned in the spring.
‘They gave us no help before,’ he said, ‘but it’s bold of them to do it right under the noses of the soldiers.’
His tone was admiring and I sensed that Jack, always ready for mischief, wanted to go back on the attack again. Tom slapped the arm of his chair in frustration.
‘And I can do nothing. Are you planning anything, Jack?’
He shook his head. ‘Not yet. We will wait and see what the soldiers do. It seems those on guard near the mill let off some shots but hit no one.’
‘I believe the soldiers take little pleasure in it,’ I said. ‘They think they are not in the army to protect rich men’s interests against the farmers of ancient commons.’
It was not long before we discovered what the captains of the two troops had decided – the captain in charge of the soldiers who had been posted to Crowthorne some months before and the one commanding the troops now billeted on us.
Without warning, a contingent of soldiers descended on the glebe land and drove away a tenth of the sheep, making no distinction between the owners. They were taken to a disused farmyard which had been commandeered in Crowthorne for a pinfold. The pigs were not moved, perhaps because the soldiers found them too cantankerous to handle. The next day, a troop came to our farm, none of them the men who were billeted with us, and took possession of four of our cows. As soon as they were gone, I rode Blaze into the village, which was a milling chaos of soldiers, cattle and protesting villagers.
Toby ran up to me and caught hold of my bridle. ‘For Jesu’s sake, Mercy, get that horse out of here or they’ll take him too.’
‘Why are they doing this?’
‘They are punishing everyone in the area. It will cost us ten shillings to redeem each sheep and thirteen and eight pence for each cow. Jesu knows how much for a horse. They know we cannot pay. They will sell the stock to the settlers, to the profit of the projectors. Now go, before you lose Blaze!’
I turned Blaze so sharply he reared in alarm. A slap on the rump from Toby sent us careering up the lane to home.
The next day when our soldiers were gone from the farm, Jack rode into the yard. I was cleaning the hen-hus, but I dropped my shovel and tied his horse to the fence. In the kitchen he flung himself down on a bench while I fetched beer. My mother, looking alarmed, gathered her skirts about her and hurried from the room, though she stumbled and nearly fell. Kitty ran to her and helped her up the stairs to her chamber.
‘I’m sorry,’ Jack said, ‘I did not mean to alarm your mother.’
‘She is very confused these days,’ Tom said. ‘So much has happened to our family, and now these soldiers living with us. She doesn’t understand who they are and why they are here.’
I set down beer for them both.
‘She’s grown suddenly old,’ I said, sitting down next to Jack. ‘I remember your grandmother.’
‘Aye.’ He smiled sadly. ‘Such a sharp mind and then one year she became like a child again, babbling about Queen Bess as if she were still alive. In the end she could not even feed herself.’
‘I would rather die young than sink into a childish dotage,’ I said fiercely.
Tom looked at me over his beer. ‘Be thankful that you have survived this far. You may even live to be twenty.’ He turned to Jack. ‘Now, I think you have something to tell us.’
Jack leaned forward. ‘We have been speaking to some of the men from Crowthorne.’
I raised my eyebrows in astonishment.
‘Aye, you may look like that, Mercy, but their stock has also been taken, and they are no happier than we are. We are going to have a football game.’
‘Football! The godly folk of Crowthorne would never play at football!’
‘Ah, desperate times.’ Jack laughed.
‘It was a device they used down in the Great Level,’ Tom said slowly, ‘in our grandfather’s time.’
I looked at him in puzzlement.
‘You would not remember, Mercy. You were scarcely more than a babe. They would call for a football game and in all the confusion, divert the guards from seeing what was happening elsewhere. Make an attack under cover of the game.’
I could see that might work. Football games between villages were vicious affairs with no rules. Often violent, they could end in serious injuries. Any number could take part, chasing an inflated pig’s bladder up and down a street until one team carried it off or everyone lay wounded.
‘You aren’t planning another attack, are you?’ I said. ‘Surely we have suffered enough, with our stock impounded.’
‘If we do not take action before the end of the week, all the stock will be driven off to Lincoln market and sold there. You know we cannot pay to redeem them.’
‘But how –’
‘We will play the football game in the street outside the pinfold. There are soldiers guarding it and we will make sure there is so much noise and hullaballoo that they will take notice of nothing else.’
I began to see where this was leading. ‘So while they are distracted, others will release the stock?’
‘Aye. And herd them home. Most of the young men will be at the football, so . . .’
‘You want me to go with the other party? Bring out the stock?’
‘Are you willing?’
‘Aye.’
‘Mercy,’ said Tom, ‘it will be dangerous. You have suffered enough already these last months.’
I glared at him. ‘And that is why I am prepared to fight back.
Have they not done us enough harm already? I will gladly come, Jack. Who else is to be there?’
‘I thought you could take Nehemiah. And Will says he’s too old for the football, but not too old to herd the stock. There will be two, perhaps three, from Crowthorne. Best not to be too many, or you will draw attention to yourselves. You would come as if to watch the game, then slip away.’
I nodded. ‘Have you seen where the stock is held?’
‘I went there yesterday. They are in an open cobbled yard, not shut in a barn, which will make it easier. At the back of the yard, away from the street where we will play, there is an old fence. The whole place is neglected. It should not be too difficult to pull it down, at least enough to make a gap wide enough for the beasts.’
‘I’ll take Jasper,’ I said. ‘He’s good at herding sheep.’ The dog, hearing his name, looked up at me and wagged his tail. ‘Will it be difficult to find the place?’
‘One of the people from Crowthorne will show you. You had best go mounted, and bring the beasts back over the fields, not by the lane.’
‘Of course. That may be a little slow, but the crops are all in, there will be no harm done.’
I felt a stirring of excitement. At last we would be doing something to fight back. The injustice that had been done us, impounding our stock when we had not even been involved in the latest attacks, infuriated me.
The football game was planned for two days hence. I was not happy to wait until then to find the pinfold and the place where the fence was weak, so I persuaded Jack to take me there the next day, once our soldiers had gone on duty.
‘Like army scouts,’ I said cheerfully, ‘spying out the enemy’s territory.’
‘Hmph.’ Jack was still unconvinced, though he had agreed when I said I would refuse to help unless I could see the place first.
‘It is not that I do not trust the Crowthorne people to show us the way. It is in their interest as much as ours,’ I said. ‘I feel we will waste less time, be more certain of success if we know exactly what we are to do beforehand.’
‘Perhaps,’ he conceded. ‘But we must take care not to attract attention.’
‘I think we should go over the fields to Crowthorne. Work out the best way to drive the beasts back.’
That is what we did, starting from the village, through a gate which would allow us to bring the animals from the fields into the street. We both carried baskets and stopped to gather nuts and rosehips and late bullaces from the hedges as we went. Like any frugal country couple, we were harvesting the last of the wild provender before the worst of winter set in. There had been a heavy downpour during the night, so our shoes and the bottom of my skirts were soon soaked.
As we drew near Crowthorne, I saw where new drains had been cut through their lands in the weeks since I had stumbled across them on my journey back from Lincoln. The smell of sodden grass and wet mud was everywhere. Fortunately for our plan, the abandoned farm was on the edge of the village, adjacent to the fields. We stopped some distance away and Jack was able to point to the rotten fence which bulged out at the back of the yard. Even from here I could see that it would be no great barrier.
‘Careful!’ I said. ‘Someone is coming.’
We turned aside to the hedge and began foraging about amongst the leaves. Unfortunately, there was little here to gather, though our baskets already contained enough to display our honest activity.
Two soldiers were approaching from round the side of one of the farm buildings. They were coming straight towards us. Suddenly Jack threw his arms around me and began kissing me enthusiastically. Taken by surprise, I nearly fought back before I realised what he was about. I relaxed and put my arms about his neck.
I heard one of the soldiers laugh.
‘Just a courting couple. Take care, lass,’ he shouted, ‘he only wants one thing.’
‘Aye, unless you’ve a bit for us too,’ called the other one.
‘Be off,’ said Jack, laughing, ‘and leave me and my girl in peace. She’ll not look at anyone else.’
‘That’s what you hope! Good luck to you, mate.’ They turned and went back to the pound.
‘I’m sorry, Mercy,’ Jack said. ‘It seemed like the best thing to do.’
‘I know.’ I straightened my cap, which had fallen half off. I was somewhat breathless.
‘Not to say I didn’t enjoy it.’ He gave me a wicked grin and I blushed.
‘We’ve seen enough,’ I said. ‘Best be off, before they suspect something.’
We made our way back across the fields. I took note of the best route for the animals, while Jack whistled merrily all the way home.
The football game was planned for the end of the next working day, when all the young men of both villages would be free to take part – farmers and craftsmen, labourers and apprentices. The yel-hus keepers from both villages had set up stalls on each side of the main village street in Crowthorne and beer was flowing freely. I saw Reverend Edgemont looking on with disapproval as his parishioners indulged in this ungodly habit, but our little Reverend Apsley was enjoying himself with the rest. I had suspected that his rosy countenance owed something to the bottle.
I wondered whether either man was privy to what was afoot, but thought they had probably been kept in ignorance, lest their consciences prick them into giving everything away. If so, they were probably the only inhabitants of the two villages not to share in the knowledge. It seemed everyone had turned out, to fill the street with crowds and make as much noise as possible. Children ran everywhere, dodging in and out of the bystanders. Women with babies tied in shawls on their breasts were admonishing their husbands. I caught sight of Alice with Huw, over near our beer stall. She gave me a tiny nod, but did not draw attention to me. Even the old people of Crowthorne were here, sitting on stools set out before the houses and looking eager for the game to begin.
I had ridden Blaze over early and left him tied up just outside the village, near the gate to the field where Jack and I had encountered the soldiers the previous day. Nehemiah had followed on foot with Jasper on a lead. Will would meet us here and I caught sight of him now in the crowd, talking to Jack. They were joined by two older men I did not know, who must be the locals who would drive away their own beasts. Daylight was fading fast on this winter afternoon. It was a rawky day, with a mist curling up from the Fen, as it usually did at this time of year. Provided that it did not become too thick, it would make our task easier.
The two crowds of young men were being marshalled to the opposite ends of the street by Toby’s father and a local man. Another man I did not know was holding the pig’s bladder, ready to throw it into the empty middle of the street when all was ready. I began to work my way to the back of the crowd. Will and the others had already disappeared.
When I reached the spot where I had left Blaze, Nehemiah was waiting. He untied Blaze while I loosened the strings of my skirt and let it drop. Underneath I was wearing the pair of Tom’s breeches I had borrowed before. I was even thinner now, but I had spent time the previous evening taking in tucks at the waist so that they fitted better. I rolled up my skirt and pushed it into the satchel I had fastened behind my saddle, having taken out the small billhook I had brought to help in breaking down the fence. Nehemiah had another tucked into his belt.
‘Ready?’ he said.
I nodded. We led horse and dog through the gate and closed it carefully behind us. We could hear shouting from the centre of the village, but it was still only sporadic. The game itself had not started yet. I knew they were taking it slowly, to give us the most time possible. My heart was beating so hard I could feel it in my throat as we made our way up the edge of the field behind the houses to the yard where our animals were impounded. Would all the guards have gone to watch the match, or were some still at this end of the yard, conscientiously continuing their duty?
As we neared the rotten fence, where Will was already waiting, a great roar broke out from the village and I knew that the pig’s bladd
er had been thrown into the street. Both teams would rush toward it and whoever managed to seize it would be guarded by his own men and attacked by the other team. Nothing was barred, save the use of weapons – fists, feet, teeth, elbows, all could be used to gain possession of the bladder. I prayed that, caught up in the excitement of the game, they would not forget that they were supposed to make it last as long as possible, secretly passing the bladder from team to team, so that it went up and down the street, neither side gaining the upper hand.
As soon as the noise started, we attacked the fence. As well as our billhooks, Will had brought a long-handled chisel, which he inserted between the boards to prise them apart. The two Crowthorne men had concealed crowbars in the long grass, with which they heaved at the base of the fence. We exchanged no words as we worked, but I saw them looking at me askance. It appeared Jack had not warned them that one of us would be a woman, and a woman wearing breeches at that. But there was no time for argument or recrimination. The fence was indeed rotten in places, but still sturdy enough to resist us. I began to sweat with the effort and with nerves, despite the December cold and the damp of the thickening mist.
At last two of the planks fell forward, catching one of the Crowthorne men on the foot. He cursed, using language Reverend Edgemont would not have approved. Will pulled them away and threw them to the side.
‘After the beasts are out, we should replace the fence,’ I said. That will fool them for a while. No need to make it plain where the beasts got out.’
Will nodded. ‘I’ve a pocket full of nails. I can tap it back into place.’
‘Why bother?’ said the man whose foot had been hit. ‘All we want is to get our stock back.’
‘Strategy,’ I said firmly. ‘To put them off the scent.’
