He had a packhorse as well, necessary to carry the great mass of equipment and clothing Colonel Knighton had wished on him. Captain Holdby had explained why.
“They are gifts, Red Man, gratis, free of charge. He wants you to feel obligated to him. If war comes, then you at least will have been there before. You and me, that is. The rest will have to follow our lead, so he wishes to ensure that you will remain, tied down by gratitude. He has money and to spare and is using it to buy fighting soldiers, so he thinks.”
“I am not unwilling to be bought, I must say, Captain. Thigh boots in good leather and breeches and coat, also good leather and proof against the rain – they are more than I could ever have bought myself. A breast and back in thick metal – not one of the cheap sort I have seen. A heavy helmet. Gauntlets. Four saddle pistols to go with the two I took from the Scots. A long, thin sword that I don’t think will be much use at all.”
“A rapier. Ceremonial use is all. For battle, keep the backsword you took from the Scots. You can use it from horseback. If you have to fight, the pistols should be your first weapon. The sword only if you are up against the wall, in serious trouble. If you see one, try to pick up a messer, the big German sword. A big man like you can swing one of those, and they look bloody awful coming at you. Old-fashioned now, but bloody effective! What else have you been issued?”
“Four pairs of woollen breeches and doublets and shirts. Woollen stockings. Two pairs of shoes. A tricorne hat. Lace for a neckcloth – lace, mark you! I shall give it to one of my sisters to decorate her drawers with!”
“Keep it and use it, Red Man. There will be times we need to look formal.”
“Two pigskin valises as well, to put it all in. Next thing will be a servant to keep it tidy for me.”
“Good idea. If we get into permanent garrison down south of here, I shall arrange a servant for you. You will be made lieutenant soon so you will need a manservant.”
“Why? Why am I to be made lieutenant, sir?”
“Because I asked for you. There is a shortage of officers, as you know. I am eventually to be made major and will have the first five companies, if we get into a garrison with five together. There will only be two captains, the new companies to be commanded by lieutenants. You will be one of those company lieutenants, Red Man. Because I want you to be. I shall give you Sergeant Patterson, because he knows all that you need and haven’t got yet. You will make a job of training them. You will have a company of shot. They will be the one chosen as forlorn hope if the need arises, because I can trust you.”
Captain Holdby explained the forlorn hope and what it must do. Micah realised he was honoured by such a command, but there was a good chance it would kill him.
“First into any charge. Holding the line against any charge. At the front if there is a wall to be taken. In the rear if there is a retreat. It sounds a little fraught, sir!”
“It is, Micah, and you have some likelihood of succumbing if we are busy in battle. Survive and you will make yourself a name and find promotion and some degree of worldly wealth – you will be in line for the best of the loot, being at the front. I am – by policy – giving you the opportunity to make yourself a great man. I am doing so, because if you win, then so do I. Also, Micah, you are a good lad. If I had ever wed and produced a son, I would have been glad to see him grow up like you.”
That was a kind thing to say, Micah thought, and he tried to say the right words in response but had no knowledge of what they might be. He smiled his thanks.
“Now then – what do we do about Jonathan?”
“I don’t know, sir. He cannot stay with us as a soldier, yet I cannot simply turn him out the gate. He is valueless as a servant – he cannot know what to do. We could send him home, if he had a home to go to, which we know he has not. We cannot put him to the baggage, because he does not know how to look after the mules and donkeys and ponies and would forget to feed them. He cannot work with the cooks. What can he do?”
Captain Holdby had no suggestions.
“Has he any military skills?”
“He can shoot straight, sir. Surprisingly so. The matchlock is no weapon for the marksman, but he can hit a target nine times out of ten, or better. He must be told when to shoot and normally simply fires when others do, for supposing that to be the right thing. As well as that, he can march and will keep himself clean. He cannot speak. He cannot stand sentry. He cannot be given orders for not understanding them. He can but copy the actions of his friends.”
Captain Holdby thought it must be cruel simply to order him out of camp – he would not know how to feed himself, must starve within days.
“We shall march him with us when we go. At some point, we may be able to take him back to Stamford and give him to the parish there. They must care for him as he is one of theirs. Until then, he must stay. Keep him out of sight, Ensign Slater!”
“And tell him to put it away, no doubt, sir!”
They marched two weeks later, heading south and followed by a full baggage train, bought for them by Colonel Knighton and with many of its wagons empty, being for companies that did not yet exist.
Micah rode next to Captain Holdby at the front of the company, back straight and trying to look as if he knew what he was doing. His horse, a seven year old bay gelding, occasionally peered at him, as if trying to work out just what it was he had on his back, but he was a good-tempered beast and chose not to unseat him.
“Do we expect to make up our numbers at Newark, sir?”
“We do, Ensign Slater. There are four other regiments based on the castle, one of which was badly led in the recent affair with the Scots and is to be disbanded. Four of the biggest companies will be made over whole to Colonel Knighton’s Regiment and men will be taken from the other companies to make up our numbers. The bulk of the officers are to go, tarred with the brush of their lieutenant-colonel, who showed a distinct unwillingness to place himself within firing range of the Scots. Some of the younger lieutenants will be given a second chance, having little alternative to obeying the orders they were given. The most of the sergeants will retain their rank, as will all of the corporals. It is Colonel Knighton’s desire to make our numbers up to at least eight hundred, more if we can. I understand they have fifes and drums and we are to take them as well.”
“Very martial, sir.”
“Well said, Ensign Slater. We shall make something of you yet. Can Jonathan play a fife, do you think?”
“If he could, it would be a fine thing, sir. I shall discover when we reach the castle. Are we to be barracked inside, do you know, sir?”
“Possibly. I suspect we may be moved out, possibly sent down to Grantham, even as far south as Stamford, perhaps. Colonel Knighton did not know. He believes that many of the Regiments will be ordered to Nottingham, that being a central place in the country, but that we, as a powerful and experienced band, might be placed elsewhere, to pacify the countryside.”
Micah did not wholly understand Captain Holdby’s meaning.
“The East of England, the part sometimes called East Anglia especially, is strong for the Calvinists. The western part of the Midlands is more for the Church of England. Up towards Lincolnshire and Yorkshire, there is a mixture, and some few of Catholics. The result is, that the King will wish to have loyal regiments placed where they may persuade the nonconformist, Parliamentary sorts that they will be well-advised to keep their noses clean.”
“And are we a loyal regiment, sir?”
“While the paymaster visits us frequently, certainly, Ensign Slater.”
“And if a Parliamentary paymaster came by, sir?”
“Then we might very well consider our position, Ensign Slater. But not yet, and not publicly. The wise man says nothing at all just at the moment, for there may be no war yet. Small chance, but we can hope. For the while, it behoves us to discover just what the rest of the mess may think, and possibly have a scheme in mind to place those who promise to be disloyal to our chosen masters und
er arrest, if the need arises.”
Micah said no more on that topic.
“Now that we have been paid, sir – for the first time since I joined – and I have more money in my pocket than I expected, will it be possible for me to take a week or two of leave when we are settled into our depot? I might well like to ride back to my village and perhaps even speak to my good father. As well, my brother gave me every penny he possessed when I ran from my home. I would wish to make him a repayment.”
“You may go, certainly, as Lieutenant Slater. Your promotion is now a certainty and will be made when you stand in front of your company in Newark. While we march, think who you might wish to take with you to your new company to stand at your back against need. You might take eight or ten men as well as Sergeant Patterson - and including Jonathan. A few loyal bodies will be a comfort to you in your first week or two. A month to make a first impression and then you might take two weeks with my blessing.”
“I must take Jonathan with me?”
“The poor lad knows you and will feel happier in your company, Ensign Slater. You would not wish to leave him, alone, bereft of the presence of the few men he can recognise?”
In fact, Micah was forced to admit that he would not. Jonathan was his responsibility, in the way that young Ned had been. He hoped he might do better by Jonathan than he had by Ned.
They idled on the march to Newark, no more than ten miles a day while they became used to the baggage train and the best way of keeping it in close contact and safe in case of war and enemy horse attempting to cut them up.
“Best to split the wagons up, sir. A company followed by three wagons and then the next company. That will protect them from attack, but it will make us intolerably slow in forming a line if called to battle.”
“Hopelessly so. It cannot be done. The most we can do is have a single company as rearguard, and almost a mile distant from the main body, which could be undesirable. If we end up with a battery of guns to take care of as well, then there will be real difficulties. A battery with its limbers and wagons may spread over half of a mile and will always be slow on the road. A damned nuisance, escorting guns.”
“But useful to have them in the field, sir?”
“Not really, not to foot. If there is a siege, then obviously there is a need for them. Holding a line of trenches, they can be useful. In open battle? Debatable. They can end a charge of horse, if discharged at just the right moment. The problem is, generals think themselves disgraced if they lose guns and will waste men’s lives to cover the retreat of their batteries. Often, they will not bring the guns far forward for fear of losing them, and then they are simply a waste of time. More often than not, we are better off without them, more especially in wet weather when they turn the roads into mud baths in front of us.”
It was all necessary information to be remembered. There was a lot to learn about soldiering as a junior officer, Micah discovered.
“Thing is, Ensign Slater, that a colonel or general can just say ‘do it’ and leave it to his subordinates to achieve. A private soldier does nothing except what he is told to. Those of us in the middle are the poor sods who must know what to do and how. Decisions by the score, every day. If you don’t like thinking of what to do next, don’t be a soldier. Too late for you to make that choice, of course.”
“I can’t remember that I ever had that much choice, sir.”
“Ah, well – just say that you were strongly persuaded by men who knew better than you that you would do well serving your King.”
“And I may do better still otherwise engaged, sir.”
“Hush! Not to be said, not yet!”
The castle at Newark was large and forbidding, set by the River Trent and dominating the town and the wide, marshy valley.
“Dark, square and nasty, Ensign Slater. Valueless, of course.”
Micah was taken by surprise, could not see how so massive a pile could be anything other than master of the whole road north.
“A dozen of great cannon set in siege trenches together with no more than five thousand men could lock it down, Red Man! A garrison might not be easily winkled out, but they could be held inside, able to do no more than watch as whole armies marched past a mile away. The great gun has made the castle a nuisance, no more. The wise general will try not to leave his armies locked away behind walls these days. The war in the Germanies has taught us that movement is the key to winning wars. Castles and towns are more liability than asset to the soldier. Useful for gathering armies together and for winter quarters, but the old conception of the strongpoint is outdated, except where you have a pass through mountains perhaps or the sole bridge across a wide river. England is short of mountains and the rivers are rarely a great obstacle. If one road is blocked by castle or fortress, there will be another route within the day’s march, except in rare instances.”
That seemed to make sense – if so, why had they marched from castle to castle both going north and returning?
“The generals and such are all dukes and earls and barons and have spent their whole existence in castles. They believe in them!”
“They do, but we do not, you say, Captain… Then, sir, we have the advantage, do we not? We are more wideawake than them.”
“’We’, Red Man? ‘Them’? I know not what you may be talking about, young man! Not in public, sir!”
Micah apologised – he had forgotten that they must know nothing of matters political.
“We are soldiers, Ensign Slater. We give our loyalty unthinkingly, until the time comes to think. Then, no doubt, we shall express our regrets for the actions we must take. But, sir, until we take those actions, we must not so much as publicly consider them. Talking is for civilians, sir. We merely act, when the time comes – and not bloody before!”
The regiments already in Newark were discontented. They had been brought together in a great hurry and then had been left for months in idleness; after that, they had marched north in time to join the retreat south. Just one of them had been sent towards the Scots, and they had found their commander unwilling to come to battle and with a great slew of reasons why not.
‘He had been unsupported; sent out on his own without horse or guns behind and front for him; he had been much outnumbered.’
Captain Carew was known to Captain Holdby from the Germanies, was indignant that he had been tarred with his colonel’s brush.
“The damned poltroon was wetting his drawers for fear that he might come within five miles of a great hairy Scotsman who might wave a claymore at him, Holdby! And now I find myself dismissed at his side!”
“Unfortunate, Carew. The King must take this opportunity to find another to blame for his own mismanagement of the campaign. He can say that he would have won, had it not been for the soldiers who betrayed him through fear. Typical, of course, of the way he does things.”
“We would do better without this King, Holdby. Mind you, his father was a strange one, if ever there was. What’s bred in the blood comes out in the bone, so they say, and that’s true here. There never was a Stuart who was worth tuppence!”
Captain Holdby agreed, though in a quieter voice.
“The Queen of Scots executed as a traitor; her son a strange piece of work; now our present ruler who is unfit for the throne. Was I you, Carew, I would be quiet and make my way to London and find a patron there. I hear tell that the Trained Bands are to be made greater there, and all under the command of men who think in the right way. A captain who has fought years in the Germanies will be properly valued there.”
“Good advice, Holdby. My Seventh Company thinks the right way, you will find, as do several of the others. I shall take my lieutenant and ensign with me, for being cousins of mine, but you will find the company obedient to your command.”
“My Lieutenant Slater will take them, Carew. He met the Scots more than once in little bickerings in the moors north of York and bloodied their noses for them.”
“I will make sure the corporals have
heard that, Holdby. They will have respect for a man who knows the smell of powder.”
“Your company is all shot, I believe, Carew?”
“It is, Holdby. The colonel was much of the opinion that we should have more muskets than pikes. In his opinion, a regiment pushing forward into the attack does better with shot. Pikes are for defence, so he said. He seemed to change his mind when offered the opportunity to press against the Scots, despite his having told us often that a good Englishman with a musket was a match for any two bare-arsed Scots with blades.”
“One for one will do me, Carew. True enough in its way – a well-handled firelock will defeat a swordsman any day, provided there are not too many of them, that is. Did you train with two ranks of muskets or three?”
“Always three, one to discharge while the other two made ready in their turn. Provided your men are handy at reloading, it works well and provides four or even five discharges every two minutes from one third of your men at a time. A steady fifty balls a minute from a company of eighty men will discourage most attacking troops.”
“The new flintlocks are good for three shots a minute, using the paper cartridge, so I have seen, Carew.”
“They cost a damned sight more than a matchlock, and if the flint breaks, the whole thing is buggered until the armourer replaces it, or the man steps back from the line to do so. The spring must be stronger as well, and springs snap too easily as it is. Making up cartridges takes time, as well. I shall stick with the old matchlock the while.”
Micah had seen the flintlocks on his pistols, had not realised they could be used on muskets.
“They seem far more effective, sir. Might even be able to use them in the rain.”
“Bad habit, fighting in rain. Much wiser to go back to barracks and wait for another day.”
Bold and Blooded Page 11
