Bold and Blooded

by Andrew Wareham

  “You may argue your case before the court, if you wish, sir.”

  There was a chance that the court would hang him as a traitor – the rule of law was wearing thin and tempers were rising. He had a sixteen years old son who might be deemed old enough to join a rebellion and who could be hanged at his side. Mr Perceval said no more and told his wife and the girls to be silent and pack their bags. They would all visit their grandparents in Lincoln.

  Mr Perceval went to his little safe in his office and found it open, door hanging on its hinges. He still raised no complaint and left to hire a wagon and horses with the coins in his pocket and the little in his wife’s purse. Passing through his yard he saw Fuller’s men loading their wagons with his timber and a selection of the best tools from his carpenter’s shop. He understood that he would not be coming back to Stamford.

  “I might wish to sell up, Lieutenant Slater.”

  “Not something I know anything of, Mr Perceval. You might wish to speak to Mr Fuller, for being in the same trade as you.”

  “He would not give me ten pounds, sir!”

  “Your house will not be worth that if left empty for the street thieves to pillage, sir.”

  “Can you ask Fuller to come to me?”

  Micah sent a runner for Fuller, knowing that he was just out of sight, around the corner. The negotiations between the two men were none of Micah’s concern. He stood at a distance from them, merely watching to keep the peace.

  An hour and money changed hands. Thirty minutes more and a wagon and two horses came from the nearest livery and took the Percevals up with their hand luggage and slowly creaked away.

  “All mine and with a legal bill of sale, Mr Slater. Very satisfactory. My younger brother works for me as a carpenter. He may install his family here and work from this yard. I do not doubt that the example will be noted by other malignants of the King’s Party. What has happened to the unlawful goods seized from the house, Mr Slater?”

  “In our safekeeping, sir. Where they should be.”

  “Exactly so.”

  Mr Fuller evidently accepted that the soldiery must be kept satisfied.

  “I intend to discuss with the Bench the seizure of any other weaponry unlawfully held in the town, Mr Slater. A proclamation that such must be surrendered and your most efficient people to search suspected premises, sir.”

  Micah was sure that could be done, just as long as the Bench issued the proper warrants.

  “We must not take the risk that the soldiers may be seen as tyrants, sir.”

  Micah had begun to read the many pamphlets that were circulating, following Captain Holdby’s suggestion. Fears of military tyranny were prominent in the minds of those who put pen to paper.

  “Better honest soldiers than the corrupt placemen of the King, sir.”

  Micah agreed, while wondering just how honest he was. He led his company back to barracks for the day.

  “Good work, Red Man! Captain Westerham is no longer with us, having begged furlough of the Major; he has seen which way the wind is blowing here and will not return. His lieutenants have placed themselves under my command, as they had little choice but do. Regrettably, my pair of lieutenants have chosen to abscond, leaving me the sole officer in my company, as you are in yours. Major Figgis has chosen to hide away inside his bottle. He has nothing to say to us. I shall assume his functions, while signing all documents in his name. Captain Westerham had very usefully ordered from Nottingham the disbursement of powder and ball sufficient for two weeks on campaign for all four companies. I have sent to London for supplies for a month. He had also indented to his Quartermaster at Nottingham for full rations and military supplies for the summer months. I have made the same request, but from Colonel Knighton at Newark.”

  Micah thought for a while before nodding understanding.

  “You expect trouble, sir, and do not believe that Colonel Knighton will show for Parliament. By taking up a requisition now, we deny the stores to the King. Better thus to be ready for the winter and next spring. We should as well lay hands on supplies currently held by known King’s men in this vicinity, sir.”

  “We should. We took six matchlocks and two thousand of ball and powder for them today. No great quantity of match, however. Civilians, Red Man! They do not know what is needed for campaigning. The flintlock muskets will come in handy, I doubt not. Just two for the nonce. If we lay hands on a dozen then we may issue them to a small squad. For the rest – extras which have gone to the Quartermaster’s hands. The heavy shoes will be useful indeed. The pistols have been held back, Red Man. Four more apiece to go on our belts. Your servant can carry them on the march. Have you named him yet?”

  “Not yet, sir. I shall do so today. I intend, with your concurrence, sir, to make a fourth corporal for the company. Ninety men in three squads is cumbersome. I would wish them to be in twenties instead.”

  Captain Holdby was much in favour of this initiative.

  “It is your company and you must organise it as seems best to you. Who will you name?”

  “Jasper is capable of becoming an officer in time. Corporal this year and sergeant next, if we go to war. Then he will step up as ensign the more easily.”

  “Well thought, Lieutenant Slater. Make your dispositions today, sir.”

  Sergeant Patterson agreed with Micah’s plan.

  “Both of us to tell the man, sir. Make it plain we both agree on his virtues. He is an able man but sometimes shows doubt in his own wisdom. We must bolster him, sir.”

  Jasper was flattered to be offered promotion but was not sure that he could perform all of the tasks it might demand of him.

  “I am sure, that is why I have given the order, Corporal. Discuss with Sergeant Patterson and the other three corporals who your score of men will be. I am in need of a soldier servant. I had thought Charlie to be best suited of our old section.”

  “He would be, sir, but I would wish him to stay. He is a good-hearted man and has taken Jonathan as his charge, sir. I would not wish to see Jonathan left to cope on his own, and he cannot act as second servant to you – he could not do so. I would suggest one of the older men from the original Seventh Company, sir. Rootes would be a good choice, sir. He was a footman in one of the houses of the County, I believe, sir, down near London.”

  That suggested that Rootes would be able to perform a servant’s duties. Sergeant Patterson was suspicious, however.

  “Why did he join as a soldier? Rootes is in his thirties, ain’t he? Why does such a man in a soft job choose to take up arms?”

  “I shall ask him, Sergeant. I do not know – but now you have raised the matter, it is a good question.”

  It was an unwritten rule that one did not ask why any man might have volunteered to carry a musket or push a pike.

  Jasper came back with Rootes and the answer later in the day.

  “Rootes would be very pleased to become your servant, sir. He has no desire to remain in the ranks, if he can find a lawful alternative.”

  Rootes nodded his agreement. He was weather-beaten, like any private soldier, but might have been a handsome man previously, blue-eyed and fair-haired and with a strong chin and a pleasant smile.

  “Joined up for not ‘aving no choice, so I did, sir. The master, what was widowed, did take a second wife, sir, and he not so young any more and not perhaps performing ‘is duty to ‘er as ‘e ought. What wi’ one thing an another, sir, I ‘elped ‘er out, you might say, and she ended up in the family way and said as ‘ow she didn’t want me to be looking too much like the son and heir when ‘e was born and showed yellow in the hair like I did. Put a pound in me ‘and then pushed me out the door, so she did. I reckoned as ‘ow it were better to go than to ‘ave the butler say ‘e’d found a silver plate in me bedspace, sir. Better a soldier than ‘anged by the neck, but it ain’t my way of life, sir. I can look after thee, sir, and be better for doing it.”

  Micah was a country boy at heart. He was shocked by such doings, but he did want
a servant who knew his trade.

  “Welcome, Rootes. I think we shall do well together.”

  Rootes agreed – he was released from the most tedious duties of soldiering now. No more sentry-go; no night duties; no part of policing barracks and camp; none of the kitchen duties that every soldier hated. He would be a dedicated servant for fear that he might be dismissed from his place, forced back to the unpleasant life of the barracks.

  “Can you ride, Rootes?”

  “Born to the stables I was, sir. Me father were second groom to the master, what was ‘ow I come to be an indoor servant when the chance were there.”

  “Good. We were given a pair of riding horses this morning. One to be my second charger, the other yours. Find a boy from the town to aid you in the stables, Rootes.”

  Jobs were few and there were always boys hanging around the barracks, hoping to earn a few pennies running errands and wishing to be taken on as drummers perhaps. Soldier’s rations and a bed warm in the straw in the stables together with as much as a shilling a week would buy a lad and secure his loyalty. Pilfering would come to an end as the boy would protect his own against his former mates of the gutter.

  Micah marched back to his office, having in his own estimation spent too much valuable time on his personal comfort. He sat to his table and made a brief record of all he had done on the day, particularly noting Jasper’s promotion – the first he had ever made. He had to search in his list of the company to discover Jasper’s surname. He suspected that he could no longer be on Christian name terms with any of his men.

  ‘Jasper Albright, made corporal this Eighth day of March in the Year of Our Lord 1641, at my order.’

  He was suddenly struck by the ease with which he had written that sentence. Micah Slater of Collyweston could never have conceived of giving any man an order – he had come a long way in a year, was a different man. He must have remained a boy all of his life if he had stayed in the village, always the junior, second son, doomed to be a labourer and nothing more. Now he had a servant and made no bones about his possession of riding horses – indeed, he had casually ordered a second to enter his retinue. He would stand in front of nearly a hundred men, knowing that they would follow him in obedience…

  “I am a man, it would seem,” he said aloud, standing to look out of his window as he heard noise towards the gates of the castle.

  There were two soldiers on gate duty, sufficient for ordinary times. He wondered whether it might not make sense to make that four and to put four more up on the old walls as sentries with a view out over the river valley as well as towards the town. He would speak to Captain Holdby – he would have to give the actual orders that changed the working routine of the camp.

  One of the sentinels was escorting a civilian to the main offices. A messenger, presumably, but he did not seem to be wearing a constable’s badge.

  A few minutes and the soldier from the gate was at his door.

  “Captain’s compliments, sir. Please to join him in his office.”

  Micah picked up his hat and left immediately, walking, the message not having specified urgency. Even a week before he would have run. Now he knew to maintain an officer’s dignity. If he was seen to run, the rumour that they were at war would be round the camp in seconds.

  “Sir?”

  “Assistance to the civil power, Lieutenant Slater. Seventh Company to report to the Court Rooms for two o’clock and then in four sections to accompany a magistrate and his constables to execute warrants of search upon the premises of malignants. The Bench will provide each section with a horse and cart to carry any confiscated goods. The magistrate will give permission for you to use force. He cannot order you to take any action. The discretion is and will remain yours. Do not open fire except with the magistrate’s prior word, Lieutenant Slater. Is that understood, sir?”

  “Yes, sir. Only an officer may give the command to shoot. The magistrate may give lawful authority for the officer to make such a command, but, as a civilian, he may not himself give orders to soldiers.”

  “Exactly. Do not put your soldiers into peril if it may be avoided. Do not shoot unarmed townsfolk. Try not to kill any who place themselves under arms. A difficult set of decisions, of opposing necessities to balance. You have judgement, Lieutenant Slater. Use it, sir!”

  Micah touched his hat in acknowledgement, and left in search of Sergeant Patterson.

  “March out for thirty minutes before the hour, Sergeant. I shall be on foot. How is Jonathan progressing with his fife? Could he accompany us with march music?”

  “No, sir. He much enjoys his music, but he chooses such tunes as suit his fancy at any moment, often making his own. He is as likely to play a jig as a martial air. He is much pleased by his new toy, sir, and will play all day, given the opportunity.”

  Not a bad thing that the poor lad should have another interest, Micah supposed.

  “We do not wish to be involved in any killing this afternoon, Sergeant. I will give the order to load where I am present, but I cannot be in four places at once. Tell the corporals that they are to use force only if they must and they are to shoot only if they are faced with armed men actually trying to use their weapons.”

  “Yes, sir. Best you should be on horseback, sir. You may need to get quickly from one section to another.”

  “I do not wish to offer a threat of violence, Sergeant. A man on a horse is more menacing than one on foot.”

  “Very true, sir.”

  Micah could hear the unsaid words. He capitulated.

  “Pass the word to Rootes that we ride out at the head of the company.”

  Sergeant Patterson showed no signs of triumph, far too experienced in his rank to permit a smile.

  The afternoon was not enjoyable.

  Mr Fuller and his fellows had chosen the four richest merchants of the town as their victims. None had been present on the previous evening and so were either supporters of the King or unaware of what was going on in their town. Being men of affairs, they should not have been ignorant; possibly they hoped to hide away from unpleasantness or were simply uninterested in the growing conflict between Parliament and the King.

  It occurred to Micah that many of the people of the country were not especially religious and were not concerned about politics. They were living in the wrong age if that was so.

  He watched at Mr Fuller’s side as he forced his way into the workplace of a hardware merchant.

  “Ernest Toller, I am sent with a warrant from the Bench that empowers me to search for the tools of oppression which you are accused of purchasing at the behest of the lackeys of the King.”

  Micah wondered what that meant. A little thought and he realised that it was a catch-all – a warrant so vaguely worded as to give the searchers a free rein.

  Ernest Toller did not know what it meant or what he was accused of. He was an able man and concluded that his wisest course was to stay silent. While he was ignorant, anything he said might be construed as guilt.

  Fuller led six constables through to the warehouse at the rear of the store while Micah remained with Corporal Meadows and his section. Ten minutes and Fuller appeared, triumphant.

  “Lieutenant Slater, you will convey the malignant, Toller, to the Court Rooms. He is to be held in the cells. We have discovered a store of powder and of ball and a rack of new flintlock muskets.”

  Micah touched his hat and turned to his people.

  “Corporal Meadows, you will take twelve of your men and load the wagon with the unlawful arms and with such other forbidden materials of war as you see. The remainder of the section to accompany me.”

  Toller found his voice, protested that the guns were fowling pieces, ordered from the Low Countries and to be delivered to the Cecils at Burghley House.

  “They are sporting pieces, no more.”

  “There is ball, sir.”

  “For deer, not for war.”

  “You must argue that with the Bench, Mr Toller. In these perilous time
s, a man is unwise who procures weapons that could be taken to war.”

  “I thought simply to take a profit from the unsettled times. Some of my clients have discussed their fears of war and have begged me to procure means of defence for themselves, sir. There are pistols as well, and short swords, and a hundred of pikeheads and shafts beside.”

  “Where?”

  Toller led Micah to a separate shed at the rear of his premises, bolted and locked.

  “Mr Fuller! You must see this.”

  Micah waited until Fuller was at his side before ordering Toller to open up.

  There were horse pistols and short swords sufficient to equip a troop of fifty horse. The pikes would have armed a company of foot. There were oddments of armour besides – a box full of gauntlets and a dozen crested helmets.

  “Military weapons, Mr Toller.”

  Mr Fuller was triumphant; he dashed off to search the office and house in the hope of discovering more incriminating materials.

  Toller turned to Micah, imploring him to see reason.

  “The Lord Lieutenant’s man came to me two months ago and begged me to buy these in, sir. He has sent me a note of hand pledging to pay when the money is remitted from London. He said that I and my family would not be forgotten when the troubles were ended – a knighthood, perhaps more.”

  “I shall take you to the Court, Mr Toller. Where is your family?”

  “In my house. Here.”

  Toller pointed to the comfortable building next to his warehouse.

  “Have you kin close to hand, Mr Toller?”

  “My brother has a farm out towards Barnack. He is the elder and inherited. I became a merchant for having to make my own way in life.”

  “Send them to your brother, now.”

  “Better I should take them myself after court in the morning. I can explain then and make my arrangements.”

  Micah shook his head. He much doubted that Toller would be permitted to walk away from the court.

  “Now or never, sir. They may be put out in the street before morning. There is a high feeling against malignants just now, sir.”