Courtier in the Royal House of Stuart

by Leslie Hatton

  ‘If you find all that too much for one night, I suggest you camp overnight at Ross, the town is surrounded by dense forest so you will have no problem in finding cover. Do you have any questions?’

  ‘Friar Adam you said?’ asked Thomas.

  ‘Yes. When you meet him, tell him that I suggested he ask Mary for help… he will understand. He will provide you with food and shelter and guide you on your way, try to avoid passing too close to the castle if you can. Now if there is nothing else I will see you in the chapel around midnight.’

  We relaxed for the rest of the day, happy in the knowledge that in twenty-four hours we should have completed another leg of our incredible journey. I would have liked to have taken a walk in the grounds of Dinmore, and also the beautiful surrounding countryside, but I had to be content just to look from a window, at a pair of blackbirds complain about a magpie coming a little too close to their territory.

  We were eager to be on our way but the time seemed to be passing so slowly. At the end of September, it was dark by five o’clock in the evening, and we were ready to make our way quietly to the chapel, but waited until midnight as Friar Dominic had suggested.

  We had been in the chapel for only a few moments when we heard footsteps approaching. The door opened and we were faced by four men standing in line, each with a sword in one hand and a knife in the other.

  Only Charles was carrying a sword, Thomas was unarmed and all I had was the dagger in my hose.

  Talking to his companions their leader said, ‘I do believe my friends that we have found the men who are about to make us rich. We have found the pot of gold we were seeking.’

  What happened next was a defining moment in my life, a moment of extreme brutality, and yet a moment of dexterity and skill. It all happened in less than a minute, but a minute I will remember in graphic detail for the rest of my life.

  Friar Dominic stepped into the chapel and grabbed two of the men by their hair from behind, banging their heads together with such force that I heard their skulls crack… they both fell to the floor, one with blood running freely from his head… the other moaning and bleeding through his nose.

  One of the other men rushed at him with his sword raised ready to strike, but he was not quick enough. Dominic, grabbing his wrist, kicked him in the groin and forced back his hand until he dropped the sword. He then wrapped a massive arm around the man’s head, and with one twist, broke his neck as easily as one would break a twig. The sound of breaking bones, the blood and the sheer violence made me feel sick. I didn’t want to vomit but feared that I would not be able to prevent it.

  The fourth man, squeaking with fear, dropped his weapon and made a dash for the door, but Thomas headed him off and managed to trip him up.

  ‘Leave this to me,’ said Dominic. He put one of his huge feet in the small of the man’s back, took hold of his head, and with one swift movement, twisted his neck almost off his body. He then checked the others and found that the one bleeding from his nose was still breathing, so he smashed his head on the stone floor. The sound of breaking bone told us that this poor man was no longer a threat.

  It was then that I lost control of my stomach. I spewed up, my sick mixing with the blood of Friar Dominic’s victims.

  ‘Who are they?’ asked Charles.

  ‘They said they were travellers but it seems they were bounty hunters. Please forgive me for not escorting you to the river but I think it more important that I deal with them now before anybody else comes.’

  He then put an enormous hand on my shoulder, and in a softer voice which I found surprisingly calming said, ‘I believe God gave me my strength and skill for a reason, and I believe that was to fight wickedness and evil wherever I find it. These four men profit from the misfortune of others, you should pray for their souls not for the manner in which they died.’

  Thomas was now more concerned how Dominic would deal with the corpses than our escape and asked, ‘Can we help in anyway?’

  ‘Dinmore is not just a resting place for travellers, it is an ecclesiastical retreat and working farm. Just below the trees by the coppice we have a deep cesspit. Weighted down these bodies will sink to the bottom never to be seen again, but before they go to their last resting place I will strip them of their clothes which will go to the poor… if you want any of their weapons, take them.’

  Thomas and Charles shook their heads.

  ‘Then their weapons will go with them. You should go now my Lord. Go with God’s speed. I will pray for you.’

  And then he was gone. We stood looking at each other not quite sure what we should do… then just as we were about to leave he returned with a hand cart.

  ‘Is there something else my Lord?’

  ‘We were just wondering… I was just thinking. No Friar Dominic, I just wanted to say a massive thank you for all you have done for us.’

  ‘No thanks are necessary,’ he said as he picked up two of the corpses, one in each hand. ‘I can manage on my own… you should go now and remember to ask for Friar Adam, and don’t forget to mention Mary.’

  It took only minutes to reach the River Lugg, the water shimmering in the moonlight as it trickled slowly downstream… we stood for a brief moment before continuing our journey south along the towpath. We could feel a definite change in the weather as dark clouds began to cover the moon, but that could be a blessing as the darkness also served as a shelter from hostile troops and bounty hunters, just like the poor souls now dispatched by Dominic from this world to who knows where.

  We seemed to be making good progress but after a couple of hours it started to drizzle, and it was definitely colder. The slow-moving river was winding through the countryside and we managed to save a few minutes by cutting the corners as Dominic had suggested. However, by the time we saw the shadowy silhouette of Hereford Castle in the distance we were well behind time, and it was another hour before we came to the point where the two rivers became one. We had found the River Wye.

  We continued a little further eventually taking a short rest just south of Ross.

  The drizzle had turned to rain and our progress was getting slower; we were cold, wet and miserable but still alive and moving in the right direction. The first signs of daylight were beginning to appear on the eastern horizon so we decided to make camp and rest until nightfall.

  This was when we had a stroke of luck. The forest was thick and we were looking for a suitable place to make camp when we came upon a derelict shack, part of the roof was missing and there were no windows but it was dry, and we had plenty of food to eat and fresh water from a stream.

  Thomas and Charles were soon asleep but I could not get the images of the dead bounty hunters out of my mind. Friar Dominic said I should pray for their souls… so that is what I did, and it must have worked for me because I then found sleep easy. All three of us snoozed until mid-afternoon. We freshened up in the stream and were keen to be on our way but decided to wait just a little longer… perhaps we were being overcautious but we chose not to light a fire.

  We were only five miles at most from Goodrich and if Friar Dominic’s directions were correct, it should not take us too long to find Flanesford Priory just south of the castle.

  By the time we abandoned our temporary home in the forest it was well past midnight, and everywhere was still and quiet.

  The River Wye at this point was meandering like a snake through open country, but despite the few extra miles we still had no trouble finding our way to Flanesford Priory well before first light.

  We stopped just short of our destination by a bridge where there was once only a ford. On one side of the river there were fields of wheat, some already harvested and others waiting to be gathered in, and on the other side a thick forest stretching for miles… we decided to shelter on the grassy verge beneath the bridge until we saw signs of life at the Priory; the rain had stopped and the black clouds were cl
earing. It was beginning to look as though it would be a good day.

  We did not have long to wait before smoke began to appear from the chimneys. I was just about to step out onto the road when I heard them… a score of cavalry soldiers on horseback, trotting towards us from the direction of Goodrich Castle.

  ‘They may not have seen you, get back under the bridge and be quiet,’ ordered Thomas.

  They were trotting not galloping and seemed to be in no hurry, but my heart was racing. If they had seen me, our adventure would most surely be over. I held my breath as they crossed over the bridge. One of the riders must have said something funny because the others were all laughing. We remained completely still and silent until the sound of their horses’ hooves on the road had faded away in the distance.

  Cautiously we emerged from our hiding place and walked the few yards to the Priory. I was just about to knock on the door when it opened and a tall stout woman came out carrying two heavy buckets.

  ‘Oh, hello gentlemen, can I help you?’

  ‘We have been told to ask for Friar Adam.’

  ‘Give me a minute to feed the pigs and then I will take you to him.’

  ‘Can I help?’ I asked.

  ‘Thank you kindly young man,’ she said handing me one of the buckets.

  I took it from her and could see Charles and Thomas smiling at me.

  ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘You wanted to be a squire, but squires do not carry pig feed for scullery maids.’

  ‘I did not ask to be a squire… it was offered,’ I said to Charles as I shuffled after the woman.

  After feeding the pigs she took us into the house, sat us down in the kitchen and gave us each a slice of boiled ham and a chunk of bread, she then left the room… wiping her hands on her pinny.

  ‘I will just check if he’s still in his bed or in the chapel,’ she said.

  We had hardly begun to eat when she was back with Friar Adam, who as it turned out was also her husband. Adam was taller than Charles and twice as wide, he had a bushy chestnut coloured beard and a bald patch on the top of his head. At first I thought Friar Dominic had somehow followed us here.

  ‘I am Adam,’ he said with the same deep voice as our previous host. ‘And by the look of surprise on your faces, I think you must have been sent here by my older brother Dominic.’

  He then hesitated, and realising that his guest was King Charles, went down on one knee.

  ‘My Lord King, it is an enormous honour for me to welcome you to our humble dwelling. How may we serve you?’

  ‘Thank you Friar Adam. All we seek is a place to rest and perhaps a meal or two. Our aim is to eventually find a way to Somerset or Devon, and then on to the continent where most of my family now live in exile. As I am sure you must know, Cromwell is searching for me and my two companions, no doubt anxious to charge me with treason as he did my father.’

  ‘Well my Lord, we will do all in our power to help you. What advice did you receive from my brother?’

  ‘When we told him our plans he made reference to someone called Mary. He seemed to think she could help. Who is she?’

  He looked at his wife and they both smiled. ‘Mary is my sister, mine and Dominic’s. She lives with her family at Westbury-on-Severn, ten miles west of Gloucester.’

  ‘Do you think she could help us?’

  ‘There is no doubt about Mary’s loyalty to the crown, and also that of her family. But let me think about it for a while, we can go through your plans later.’

  ‘Things seemed to be going too well,’ I said, thinking out loud.

  Charles slapped me on the back. ‘Is that what you think wife?’

  ‘I’m not your wife anymore remember… I divorced you.’

  Adam looked puzzled.

  ‘Take no notice of them Adam,’ said Thomas. ‘We dressed Toby as a woman to make him look like my daughter, Charles was disguised as my son-in-law. But what I am more interested in at the moment, is this place, Flanesford Priory.’

  ‘Then let me tell you,’ he said. ‘It was once a priory dedicated to St John the Baptist, and the home of monks from the Order of Augustinian. But that all changed with the Dissolution of the Monasteries when King Henry VIII’s soldiers destroyed Tintern Abbey. They slaughtered most of the monks there, but some escaped. They were our ancestors who are now scattered around the country spreading the gospel as best they can. Times were hard, and the monks here at the Priory had to focus more on farming to survive… just as they did at Dinmore. And now we have Oliver Cromwell wrecking or completely destroying our castles.’

  Charles with an apologetic frown on his face said, ‘I find… not for the first time that I am required to express regret for the shortcomings of my ancestor Henry VIII. And to apologise.’

  ‘We cannot always be responsible for the mistakes of our forefathers my Lord… come, let me take you to your quarters, we can talk later after you have rested.’

  The room we shared was clean and furnished modestly, but with plenty of space to accommodate the three beds. We were not wanting to rest, but we did wash in cold water before re-joining our hosts.

  Thomas and Charles spent the rest of the day with Friar Adam. But I chose to help on the farm. Firstly by helping Adam’s three sons bring the cattle in from the fields, and then assisting Adam’s daughter with the milking.

  After working all day, I was tired and went early to bed. It was absolute bliss to once again be sleeping on a soft mattress under clean white sheets, a reminder of the happy days spent in Jersey at Bramwell House with Lady Bramwell, Philip and Milly. But as always happened when I started to reflect on the past, my thoughts returned to Anne Huxley.

  The next day at breakfast, Charles asked Adam about the cavalry soldiers we almost ran into the previous day.

  ‘Most days they ride out on patrol… they come from Goodrich Castle and charge around the countryside trying to look important by intimidating the locals, but it doesn’t work, it only makes them despised all the more. They don’t usually bother us here at the Priory, but if for some reason they did decide to call, we have a splendid hiding place for you under the barn. Now tell me, how did you get on with my brother?’

  We talked about Dinmore and Dominic, but avoided mentioning the bounty hunters until the women had left the room. Charles then explained in graphic detail how his brother killed the bounty hunters with just his bare hands, thankfully leaving out the bit about me throwing up.

  ‘Don’t judge him too harshly my Lord, our family suffered badly during the Dissolution of the Monasteries a hundred years ago, and we believe that God gave us the fortitude and courage to survive… he also gave us the strength to face injustice and prejudice wherever we find it, and the determination to try and reach the ungodly through prayer.’

  ‘That is more or less what Dominic said.’

  ‘Now my Lord. Tell me how I can help,’ asked Adam with a broad smile peeping from under his bushy beard. ‘Is there anyone who you’d like me to slay for you? I can snap a man’s neck just as quickly as my brother.’

  ‘Oliver Cromwell if you can find him, but in the meantime we would like to find a way to get to Dorset or Somerset.’

  ‘By what route?’

  ‘We were thinking of following the Wye down to Chepstow and then trying to find a friend to take us across the Severn Estuary.’

  Now in a more subdued mood, Adam, while stroking his beard, said, ‘I can see problems with your plan my Lord. Your way would take you through Monmouth where a large concentration of Parliamentarians are stationed. Chepstow is almost as bad, the place is crawling with them.’

  No one replied… all three of us waiting for an answer.

  ‘I now see why Dominic suggested Mary but before I make any decisions, I will first seek guidance from the good Lord.’

  ***

  During the day, Tho
mas was in the chapel with Adam. I was on the farm helping groom their two wonderful Shire horses, and Charles was being entertained by Adam’s wife (though I do believe he would rather have been flirting with his daughter).

  After supper, Adam called the three of us into what I thought must have been his office… but it was also a sanctuary where he went to pray quietly on his own. There was an untidy desk with papers scattered about, but on the other side of the room there was a bronze statuette of Jesus on the cross, with candles on each side.

  ‘I have put a lot of thought into your predicament, and have come up with a plan to get you across the Severn Estuary to Somerset.

  ‘I usually take my livestock to Monmouth Cattle Market, but recently the prices there have been disappointing. So tomorrow, we are going to Gloucester. It’s twice as far but a much larger market. I should get much better returns for my stock.’

  ‘Will we be travelling across country, or using roads?’ asked Charles.

  ‘We will be avoiding roads wherever possible, because word has it that Cromwell thinks you are heading south. He thinks you bypassed Worcester and are heading for Gloucester, and from there, on to Portsmouth. That is the route where he is concentrating his search.’

  ‘How will you hide us?’ I asked.

  ‘I won’t. You and King Charles will be dressed as drovers. You are the ones who will be driving my cattle through fields and villages to my sister’s place at Westbury-on-Severn. From there my cattle will be taken to Gloucester in time for the Saturday Market, but they won’t be taken by you. You will be replaced by real drovers. I don’t want you to go within ten miles of Gloucester.’

  ‘And what of Thomas, is he to be a drover too?’ I asked.

  ‘No young man… he will be dressed as a man of the cloth, as will I. We will be sat behind a horse, pulling a trailer with cages of chickens and a few pigs.’

  ‘So the king has to chase cows while his servant rides in comfort?’ I jested.

  ‘Cattle droving is a young man’s job Toby… Thomas and I are too old to be chasing cows.’