‘And Stryker?’
‘What of him?’
‘He killed your man. Told me so himself. What if Tainton mentioned me?’
The soldier shot his informant a derisory glance. ‘You are an important fellow. He cannot touch you.’
‘But if he suspects.’ The intelligencer felt his bowels loosen a touch. He shook his head, feeling his fleshy face wobble. ‘Stryker is like a wild beast, Colonel. The longer he gnaws on a bone, the sharper his teeth become.’
The colonel plucked the fine glove from his hand and scratched at the cluster of warts that sprouted like toadstools between his eyebrows. ‘You fear him?’
‘As I fear Lucifer himself.’
‘Then perhaps we should take care of this troublesome fellow. Would that provide succour?’
The intelligencer rubbed a hand over his pudgy face, pressing palms into tiny eyes set deep beneath thick lids. ‘It would, it would.’
The colonel’s mouth twitched. ‘And, while such arrangements are put into place, if I were to arrange a swelling of your remuneration?’
‘I would yet fear him.’
‘But you would cope.’
‘Aye.’
The colonel stared at the horizon and watched the clouds scud on the freezing air. ‘Then we shall proceed. Are you with us?’
The intelligencer sighed heavily, a great plume of vapour dancing around his head. ‘Of course, Colonel. I take great risk riding this far from our lines. Does that not prove my loyalty? The information about the gold, about its whereabouts. Are they not proof enough?’
The colonel shrugged. ‘I find men are weak-willed,’ he said simply. ‘You are important to us, Ezra. Vital to our righteous cause, never forget that. Now,’ he added in a tone as brisk as the morning, jerking the reins to drag his grey from its blissful grass cropping, ‘I have correspondence to see to. My old friend Dick Norton—’
‘Norton? The Governor of Southampton?’
‘The same. Idle Dick, as known to me, though he has not been so idle as the name might suggest. He works to secure Hampshire for our cause, and asks for my help.’ He pursed his lips and picked at the warts again. ‘I will speak to Vane, to the Parliament, if I must, though they irritate me with their vacuous chatter. We will see Norton succeeds.’
‘And what of me, sir? What do you ask?’
The soldier returned his hat to his head and let his horse walk away from the tree and along the crest of the hill, heading north-east, back to Parliament territory. ‘We must make our plans for the winter campaign,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘I require troop dispositions, the sensitivities and humours of the generals, the strategy to be employed by Newcastle and Hopton and Rupert. I need all these things, and I have faith that you are the man to provide.’ He wheeled the horse about, cupping a hand to his mouth. ‘Tainton is gone, but you remain Parliament’s great hope. Can you bring me what I need, Mister Killigrew?’
Ezra Killigrew, aide to Prince Rupert, confidante of King Charles, and agent of the rebellion, waved at the horseman. ‘I can, Colonel Cromwell! And I will!’
Acknowledgements
Thanks, as ever, to my editor, Kate Parkin, who persevered with me through the revision process, and to my agent, Rupert Heath, whose enthusiasm for the series has been a huge source of encouragement from day one.
Much gratitude to the whole team at Hodder, particularly Hilary Hammond, Swati Gamble and Emilie Ferguson, and thanks also to Malcolm Watkins of Heritage Matters, whose expertise has been vital in ironing out some of the historical inaccuracies that inevitably appear. As ever, all remaining mistakes are my own.
Last, but absolutely not least, much love and thanks to Rebecca, Joshua and Maisie, for everything.
Historical note
Warlord’s Gold begins just a few days after the First Battle of Newbury. The Siege of Gloucester – as described in Stryker’s fourth adventure, Assassin’s Reign – had been a disaster for the Royalists, who had abandoned their efforts in the face of a surprise Parliamentarian relief force under the command of the Earl of Essex. But, as Essex returned to London, Charles I rallied his beleaguered army and gave chase, overtaking the Parliamentarian army at Newbury and forcing them to march past the Royalist force to continue their retreat. The armies engaged on 20 September 1643, with the Royalists hoping to smash Essex’s hastily raised force before moving east to take London. But far from delivering a final, decisive blow, the battle raged throughout the day, eventually petering out in stalemate as night fell. The next morning, low on ammunition, the Royalists were forced to allow Essex to pass and continue his march to London.
If the tide began to turn at Gloucester, then Newbury was the first stage in a building of Parliamentarian momentum that would never be stopped.
Around this time, an agreement was reached between the Scottish Covenanters and the leaders of the English Parliament. Known as the Solemn League and Covenant, it was a military league and a religious covenant, the purpose of which was overwhelming the Royalist field armies, who still by late 1643 looked likely to win the war.
The alliance came about because the English rebels, quite understandably, sought assistance from the highly regarded Scottish army. The Scots, however, were principally interested in the religious union the agreement would bring about. They had been alarmed by the discovery of a plot by the Earl of Antrim to bring an Irish Catholic army into the conflict on the side of Scots Royalists, but, more crucially, they wished to unite the churches of Scotland and England under the Presbyterian system.
Negotiations – led from the English side by Sir Henry Vane – proceeded quickly, as both factions were keen to defeat the king in the field. The Scots agreed to send an army into England on condition that Parliament would co-operate with the Kirk in upholding the Protestant religion and uprooting all remaining traces of Popery. Although it was implied that Presbyterian forms of worship and church government would be enforced across Britain and Ireland, the clause was qualified to read that church reform would be carried out ‘according to the Word of God’. This compromise would, eventually, cause deep divisions in the union, but by January 1644, Westminster’s hopes were realized and the Army of the Covenant crossed the border into England, thus tipping the scales permanently and changing the course of the Civil Wars.
By the seventeenth century the Isles of Scilly consisted of four inhabited islands – St Mary’s, Tresco, St Martin’s and Agnes – and dozens more uninhabited islets. Lying in the Atlantic (the term Celtic Sea was not proposed until 1921) just twenty-six miles south-west of Land’s End, Scilly had long been an ideal base, both for defending the Channel and for piracy. During the Tudor period this strategic importance began to be properly recognized, and the Crown appointed a governor to bring law and order and raised a garrison to secure Scilly for the realm.
The islands saw significant action during the Civil Wars. At various times, they provided shelter for Royalist privateers, gave sanctuary to the fugitive Prince of Wales, and were the setting for the first major amphibious assault of the wars. But those tales are yet to be told, and Stryker will doubtless play his part, so I will not go into detail here!
During the period in which Warlord’s Gold takes place, the population of Scilly – about three hundred and fifty – had no more choice as to which side to support than the rest of the country’s common folk. Thus, they were directed by their governor, Sir Francis Godolphin, a staunch Royalist. Godolphin was Sheriff of Cornwall, and he spent his time on the mainland, deferring power to his deputy, Sir Thomas Bassett. But Bassett, too, was bound for England, joining the Cornish army at the outbreak of the conflict and eventually (readers will remember him from Hunter’s Rage, where he commanded one of the columns at the Battle of Stratton) taking a major-general’s commission.
Who assumed command of the garrison in Bassett’s absence? The most senior figure I can trace is Captain William Balthazar, so it seems likely that he ruled the islands during the early part of the war, his base being
Star Castle, the star-shaped fort located on the south-western headland of St Mary’s known as the Hugh. He is duly given his place in the book, and I hope I have not been too harsh on him.
The climax of Warlord’s Gold takes place at Basing House, the seat of John Paulet, the Marquess of Winchester. During the Tudor period this property was transformed from a basic medieval manor into the sprawling palace that became a Royalist fortress within an area dominated by Parliamentarian forces. As described in the book, there were two main houses: the Old House, essentially a medieval motte and bailey castle; and the New House, a large rectangular mansion. A bridge and gateway linked the two houses. Beyond these were outbuildings, orchards and gardens, all contained within a boundary wall of approximately one mile in circumference, and to the north was the Grange, the farm complex that contained storehouses, animal pens and fish ponds. And, of course, the Great Barn. By the time of the events of Warlord’s Gold, Basing had already been attacked once, in July of 1643, by local Parliamentarians under the command of Colonel Richard Norton. The assault had been held off by the marquess’s small force until the arrival of a relief force led by Lieutenant-Colonel Peake. Shortly afterwards, Colonel Marmaduke Rawdon arrived with the rest of his regiment and set about strengthening the fortifications. This was a timely move, for the autumn was to bring the first concerted effort to reduce Basing’s walls.
As described in the book, Sir William Waller, having made peace with his rival, the Earl of Essex, had raised a new army of more than five thousand men. Initially it looked as though he would advance against Winchester, but he seems to have changed tack at the eleventh hour. Was it his plan to attack Basing all along, with the march towards Winchester simply a feint? Or did he change his mind after receiving exaggerated reports of a large Royalist force (Gerard’s Brigade) marching south to rendezvous with Hopton? I have taken the latter view, giving responsibility for the report to the fictitious Wagner Kovac.
Arriving at Basing, Waller set up his artillery on Cowdrey’s Down to the north of the house, and after his summons for the marquess to surrender was declined, he gave the order to fire, and the first siege began.
The events of November 1643 unfolded much as I have retold, though I confess I have condensed some of the action for the sake of the plot. A cannon really did discharge during the early negotiations, hardening Royalist resolve and compelling Waller to apologize for ‘the rudeness of his disorderly guns during parley’, and when the Roundhead messenger was finally sent back with Paulet’s answer, he fell into a marsh and lost a boot!
On 7 November the first major assault took place, when a large detachment of musketeers under the command of Waller’s captain-lieutenant, Captain Clinson, took the Grange after some fierce fighting. Though the battle raged all the way along the road dividing the farm buildings from the house, the Parliamentarian attack could not force a breakthrough. This was almost certainly not helped by the plentiful supply of food and ale they discovered in the Great Barn. The temptation to rest within the stone walls must have been irresistible. As night fell, the Royalists counter-attacked, compelled, I feel sure, by the thought of the enemy eating their way through vital supplies. In the fight that followed, the Grange was torched, with only the Great Barn left standing. A bitter hand-to-hand fight ensued, and, as described in the book, Lieutenant-Colonel Johnson really did engage Clinson in a personal duel. Accounts suggest that Clinson was having the better of the fight but was eventually killed by others who came to Johnson’s aid. I have attributed the intervention to Stryker.
Waller attempted a second attack on 12 November, having spent the intervening (and very wet) days in Basingstoke. After a heavy bombardment, the Parliamentarians stormed the defences from three directions at once. While the London regiments mounted attacks from Basing Park to the south and west of the House, Waller led his main force from Basing village in the east. He planned to make a breach near one of the gates with a petard, but, as witnessed by Stryker, the petardier chose to blow the gate itself, which was heavily reinforced, rather than the thin walls on either side. No breach was made, and as the Parliamentarians looked on in horror, they came under heavy fire from the rampart and were eventually forced to retreat.
Elsewhere, the other attacks achieved little more. One group of Londoners reached the earthworks of the Old House, placing their standard in the ditch, but they were harassed by the women of the garrison, who hurled stones and bricks from the battlements, while a well-situated cannon enfiladed them with case shot. As the advance stalled, a sudden sortie led by Lieutenant-Colonel Johnson (probably with much to prove after his duel with Clinson) threw the inexperienced Trained Bands into chaos, with some of the rear ranks firing on their comrades before the foremost ranks had time to retire. With darkness falling and heavy rain setting in, Waller abandoned the assault on Basing House and once again ordered a withdrawal to Basingstoke.
During the next few days, Waller received intelligence that Lord Hopton was concentrating his Royalist forces to the west (Hopton did indeed receive a message from Paulet carried by a woman in a basket of apples). With his London regiments threatening to mutiny and scores deserting during the miserable nights, Waller had no choice but to withdraw to his base at Farnham Castle.
Basing House was saved, at least for the time being, and the Royalist commander, Colonel Rawdon, was knighted for his part in the defence.
Sir Alfred Cade’s gold did not exist. Nor did the characters involved in its story. Roger Tainton, Ezra Killigrew, Sterne Fassett, Clay Cordell and Locke Squires are all figments of my imagination, as, sadly, is Titus Gibbons, though there were plenty of privateers at the time on which he is based.
But, as I’ve already mentioned, William Balthazar really was Captain of Star Castle, while Marmaduke Rawdon and his subordinate colonels, Peake and Johnson, did oversee the defence of the house during the first siege.
As for Stryker and his men, it is sure to be a turbulent winter. The company has been shattered, and the balance of power is looking ever more precarious. After Gloucester and Newbury, the armies of Parliament are beginning to gain confidence, and as the snow falls, the Scottish Covenanters are mustering north of the border. There are more struggles to come, and battles aplenty.
Captain Stryker will return.
Warlord's Gold: Book 5 of The Civil War Chronicles Page 46