Halleck swung the sword, taking it through the most basic thrust and parry.
“My wrists would tire inside ten minutes, sir. My life has not been as hard as yours. The sword is too much for me.”
He passed it across to Walsh who could hardly swing the blade at all.
Micah took the backsword and demonstrated that he could handle it.
“It has the great advantage that few men will parry a blow from this weapon, gentlemen. But, if you cannot use it, then it is useless to you. A lighter and equally sharp sword will kill your enemy just as well, although demanding more skill of you. Mine is a butcher’s blade, for I have no great knowledge of the sword. Have you been taught sword manage, Mr Walsh?”
“Yes, sir. I have been given lessons these last three years. My father said a gentleman must know the blade.”
Walsh blushed bright scarlet as he realised what he had said, his implication that his captain was no gentleman. Halleck tried to cover for him.
“I was taught as well, sir, my father telling me that war was certain to come. I believe he expected me to stand for the King, but I have decided which cause is right, sir.”
“Well done, Mr Halleck. As for the skills of the gentleman… Well, I know hardly any of those, in the nature of things. Perhaps I may pick up a few.”
Walsh flushed again.
“Come, gentlemen. We should go to our company office and discuss what is to be done. I want you to take half of the company each from tomorrow. The sergeants will have appointed their corporals and each will have a platoon. You will meet your corporals and your particular sergeant and will arrange training with them. The work will be hard at first, but you will come to know them and that will be good for them and you both.”
The sergeants were kind-hearted men, willing to tolerate young officers and guide them to a sensible conclusion. Others in their place might have been less tolerant but the pair regarded the boys with some kindness – the young men could have stayed at home but had volunteered to serve their cause, out in front and dressed finer than the men and so making themselves a target.
Both gave the same advice.
“Any time you ain’t sure what the right thing is, just say, ‘Carry on, sergeant’.”
“What happens then, Sergeant Driver?”
“Why, sir, I take a guess at what makes sense, knowing the orders we been given. Just as long as I do know the orders, sir.”
Ensign Walsh caught his sergeant’s meaning.
“I must inform you of the orders Captain Slater gives me, you say, Sergeant Driver.”
“Best that way, sir. Always a good idea for two men to know what the orders are. That way, if one falls, t’other knows what to do.”
“Men do die in battle, do they not.”
“They do, sir. That’s the whole idea of a fight, sir. Killing people is what soldiering’s all about, sir.”
“So it is. How best do I make sure that we kill them rather than they kill us, Sergeant Driver?”
“There ain’t no way of doing that for sure, sir. That’s why we have generals. Best thing you can do, sir, is keep an eye on the Red Man. He’s one of them what knows how to go about soldiering natural like, sir. That’s why I volunteered to come here, sir, to follow that man. Some officers – just one or two – are men worth the name. He is one. Best I have ever seen, so I reckon, and I ain’t even seen him in the field yet, except at Turnham Green what wasn’t a proper battle. He’ll look after his men until it comes time for the killing to start – then he’ll throw us into the fight where we’re needed, you see if he don’t, and he’ll bring the most of us out the other side. You want to be an officer, sir, learn from that man.”
Micah was the other side of a thin wooden wall from the pair, could not help but overhear all they said. He did not think he was a hero; Sergeant Driver disagreed with him on that. Better he should not let his sergeant down.
Chapter Five
The winter came in hard. It snowed early and laid thick and cold. The Thames froze, they were told.
Marching out was impossible for three months. Parade drill was practical only for an hour around noon on most days. The company spent the bulk of its days under cover, working the muskets in their platoons, dumbshow, not being able to fire in the barns and stables.
“All very well for you, Red Man. What can I do with a company of pikes?”
Daniel Carew was desperate for activity, as were his men. They worked at their drill indoors and spent two hours a day on wooding, cutting up the logs that had been dragged into the manor and occasionally going out to fell dead trees and skid them through the snow back to the yards. Basically, they were bored and inactive for too many hours at a time.
They were religious men and many spent their idle hours with their Bibles or in discussion groups, talking over the Scriptures as their chapels encouraged, every man having the right to express his own opinion to create the collective acceptance of what was proper.
Inevitably, they considered the best organisation of an Army of Saints Assembled. They came to many unusual conclusions in the process of their discussions, including the suggestion that orders were best produced by the collective wisdom of the men, that they should decide what their army should do at any given moment, if needs be by halting to hold a debate.
Captain Carew did his best to persuade them that debates were better held in Westminster than on the battlefield and many agreed with his wisdom, but he was sure that not all did.
Spring came, the marching season, and the officers waited for orders to come to the regiment.
“The Earl of Essex will march out of London, with his regiments and as many of the Trained Bands as may be inclined to follow. Where he will go, I know not, Red Man.”
Micah agreed with Daniel that the Earl must march – he must not wait in defensive posture.
“Will we be called to the Army, do you think, Daniel?”
“I doubt it, Red Man. We are isolated here and would have to march for some days to catch up with the Earl. My wager would be that we shall be sent off on a particular service – or would be if I was a gambling man, which, needless to say, I am not.”
Others in the mess were inclined to moralise, did not like to hear reference to the immorality of the Cavaliers and such. It had been a boring winter in many respects.
“Kent and Surrey and Sussex are safe for Parliament, Red Man. A lucky fall out for us as the Kentish and Sussex Weald has the great bulk of cannon-making in England. The forges produce muskets as well. Parliament can thus arm itself while the King has to buy most of his weaponry overseas or beg it if he cannot find the gold and silver to purchase.”
“A surprise that the Man of Blood does not send an army to the west to work its way along the coast from Hampshire way and into the Weald, Daniel.”
“Perhaps he believes that he need not worry himself to do so, Red Man. Defeat the Earl of Essex and take London and the rest of the country must fall, so he might think.”
That made a certain sense, Micah agreed.
“What are we to do then, by way of this special service?”
“There will be odd manor houses fortified for the King, isolated in areas that are otherwise loyal to us. It might be wise to march and, as it were, mop them up. Work for a Regiment of Foot accompanied by a battery of guns. As well to have traitors to the cause put in a safe place while we are fighting at a distance. Add to that, they may have wealth hidden away that could be taken up to Parliament’s use.”
“Have you heard word that we are to do this, Daniel?”
“Nothing more than rumour.”
They sipped their small beer and talked quietly in their sober mess, letting the evening pass in an atmosphere of decorum.
The captains were called to meet Major Jevons, gathered together hopefully for a break in the tedium.
“Orders gentlemen. We are to march to the west, towards the town of Guildford and just beyond it. There is a fortified manor called Milford House which
is held for the King and which is a nuisance to the whole countryside thereabouts. We are to take the manor and slight its fortifications and send its master to trial in London and disperse the family to go where they will so long as they make no further trouble. It is rumoured that the manor contains a supply of weaponry and powder which should be taken to our own use. We are to meet a battery of guns at Guildford and take them down to the destruction of the manor. All to be done at soonest. On our success, we march towards Petersfield in Hampshire where there is another such hive of malignants to be smoked out. Both are in a place to interfere with the road to Portsmouth, or to send horsemen into the Weald and its foundries.”
Daniel nodded proudly to Micah – he had foreseen correctly.
“Four days on the march and then to hold in Guildford for one day while we confer with the gunners.”
Micah nodded. His first reaction had been that they should press forward and assault Milford House before the garrison knew of their presence, but it was almost certain that horsemen would gallop ahead of them with the news they were on the road. Men who were unsympathetic to Parliament might not wish to march out with the King’s forces, but they could easily send a son off with a message, unknown to their neighbours who might inform on them.
How were they to attack a forewarned enemy? He waited for Jevons to offer a plan.
“We shall march to the house, surround it and call for their surrender. They will not wish to stand against us – better to take quarter immediately.”
It sounded confident – hopeful rather than thought out. Micah glanced across at Daniel, saw him to be utterly without expression, blank and trying to show untroubled. He tried to calm his own face, to hide his doubts.
“Do we know the size of the garrison, Major?”
That was Captain Curtis, one of the older men, given his commission for bringing in more than a hundred men from the cluster of local villages where he was known as a fine orator in chapel.
“I do not have that information, Captain.”
“Do they have horse, sir?”
Captain Vokes was a commoner from the forested areas, leader of groups of loggers who worked a large section of the Weald. He had some sort of hereditary right to take timber and was to an extent a leader of the local people, a squire in all but name.
Major Jevons did not know the answer to that either. It was clear that he had received an order and nothing by way of explanation.
“March at first light, Major?”
Daniel deliberately asked a question that he could answer before the meeting grew hostile.
“Yes, column of route by company number, if you please. I shall place my party between the first and second companies.”
It was reasonable to assume that any attack on the march would be made by horse coming headlong down the road. Pikes were best suited to bear the brunt of such an assault while the shot behind split left and right to their flanks and fired into the stalled mass. Daniel and Micah nodded together – they would have done the same.
Major Jevons continued his instructions.
“Waggons to be placed between the companies in fours.”
That was arguable but it did ensure that the men’s rations kept up with the march, though probably slowing the whole column down. It could easily be the case that they would be ten hours on the road to achieve their fifteen miles when it rained.
“Better slow than hungry, Red Man.”
That was almost always true.
“The Adjutant will ensure that there is a waggonload of powder and ball following each company of shot.”
“Match as well, sir?”
“Match as well, Captain Slater.”
“What of our horses, sir?”
Captain Murray was one of the young men, second son to a large landowner, said to have fallen out with his father regarding his allegiances. He was not one to walk where he could ride.
“Best that officers be visible, Captain Murray. Officers’ servants to bring second charger along with the waggons.”
Being on horseback made the officers visible to the enemy as well, but it was probably wiser that they should be easily seen.
There were no further questions, the officers almost all amateur and not knowing what to ask.
Micah returned to his company and issued orders.
“Cooks to have a waggon. Pots and dry firewood and sacks of flour under tarpaulins. Bags of beans to be stored as well. Barrels of small beer to a second waggon – safer than stream water. Mattocks and shovels to the third, together with salt beef and barley and oats. Block salt as well. Stew at night; gruel in the morning.”
“Beg pardon, sir, but us won’t be doing much with the flour. No ovens, likely, sir.”
“Barter, weight for weight, bread for flour in the villages. Throw in a bit of salt – always short in the inland villages – and we’ll get our bread.”
They thought that was clever.
“Tell they when us stops, like, sir. Come the morning they’ll have baked for us.”
“Gives us a decent bite to eat. Keeps them honest as well.”
They were puzzled by that comment until Sergeant Driver explained.
“They given us bread – means they got to stay on our side. The King’s people ain’t going to like ‘em for doing that.”
That was cleverer still.
“Pass the word that we are in our own land, with the people on our side. Any man tries to steal or lays his hand on an unwilling woman, I shall hang him at the side of the road. No mercy. No second chance.”
They were sure that none of their people – the saints in arms – would dream of such a thing. They would not object to the law, however – it was right.
“What of camp followers, sir?”
Micah shook his head at Sergeant Fletcher’s question. From all he had been told, any battalion at war soon accumulated ‘washerwomen’ and such at their tail; the wise officer, he had been told, neither saw nor heard of them.
“What I do not see, Sergeant Fletcher…”
There was a shaking of heads at that, but again, the bulk of the men were comfortably sure that such females would not seek out the company of the virtuous under arms.
“Finally, check your boots today. Be sure you have stockings or foot cloths and that they are clean and unwrinkled. Any man who is sick to report to his corporal.”
Micah expected every man to claim he was fit for the march. These were not unwilling conscripts.
The morning saw the men fed and ready to march out as the sun peeked over the eastern horizon. The horses seemed less enthusiastic, not believing in starting work at cockcrow, but suffered themselves to be mounted or put into the traces. Major Jevons blew his whistle and the sergeants shouted and the column stretched their left feet forward and strode off at three miles an hour. A very few urchins cheered at the side; some women wept. There was little other response to the men marching off to war.
Fifty minutes and they stopped for ten, the ranks still closed up and no men having yet dropped out.
Daniel was impressed.
“First time I ever saw that, Red Man. Three miles, almost, and not a man left behind. Still, there are two hills to the front of us – they will stretch the weaklings, if there are any.”
A few dropped out on the hills, but not many and all showing genuinely ill, men who should have reported sick rather than march at all.
Major Jevons did not know what to do with the stragglers.
“Take them to the chapel in the next village we come to, sir. Leave the pastor with a few shillings and beg him to care for them until they recover, or perhaps die. Should any show crippled, then a message to Colonel Jevons to make arrangements for them. They can then be taken back to their homes with a dole each week thereafter. They volunteered to serve and they are the Regiment’s to look after, sir. We are not King’s soldiers who will press men to their ranks and then contemptuously discard them when they are no longer of use.”
“Very
true, Captain Slater. It shall be done that way.”
The word trickled down through the companies, that the Regiment would look after them if the need arose. The men marched the more keenly for knowing that.
They reached Guildford on the fourth day, as planned. They had had dry days, not so much as a shower of rain, which, they told each other, was the hand of God protecting them as they went about His business.
There was a small garrison at the outskirts of the town, acting as police more than soldiers, old men who could not sensibly march to war. The promised battery was waiting there.
Daniel spotted them and shook his head.
“Six demi-culverins, Red Man. They fire a shot of some nine pounds avoirdupois, or grape to the same weight, eighty or so of musket balls. Useful in the field – they will break a charge of cavalry, properly aimed and used at about fifty yards. They can annoy an enemy line of battle firing ball at a quarter of a mile. They are too light to batter a stone wall. For siege work, you need a full cannon, a forty-two pound gun. Even a whole culverin is rarely man enough for a castle wall.”
“Then what do we do, Daniel?”
“Get to the scene and then find out what is possible. In all likelihood, we will have no choice other than to rush the fortalice in the dark.”
The regiment rested for a day and then marched out with the battery at the rear of the column. They camped up and in the morning presented themselves before Milford House, surrounding it as best they could.
Micah stood next to Daniel and Major Jevons, surveying the fort. Daniel, the sole professional and with experience of sieges heaved a sigh of relief.
“Lucky! It was never designed as a castle. This is a later building and they have turned it into a makeshift defended position.”
They stood at the crest of a low hill, in the cover of beech trees, looking down at the house.
“Positioned to use the hill as shelter from the winds. A castle would have been set on top of the hill. We have the advantage of looking, and if needs be firing, down onto them. A small river running south in the valley bottom, wide enough just that a horse will not jump it, too deep to ford easily by the looks of it and at the bottom of the lawns to the east of the house, as is usual enough. It always makes sense to build a big house on water. Thick woodland to the north, open ground to the south, this hillside on the west. We must control the south side, digging a trench there if there is to be a siege. The rest is protected by the ground. Guns up on this hill and the house will be easily in range. They have dug trenches round the house and used timber to build a couple of strongpoints. Even demi-culverins will splinter timber walls.”
Red Man Page 8
