by Smith, Skye
"Reading is already cordoned off," Daniel called after him. "What else would you call this siege."
"I meant quarantined," Culpeper replied and then he called out to his company, "Rider's are approaching the bridge at speed. To the barricade, to the barricade. Raise the draw span. Raise it now. Warning shots first, if you please. Try not to hurt anyone until we know their business."
"Will forty days be long enough?" asked Daniel. A ship could be quarantined under a plague flag for forty days, which was why that word began with quarant. "Let your men handle the bridge. We have a more important task with the general. Come, let's go and find him."
Culpeper had reached the barricade and confirmed that men were at the capstan that raised the counter weighted span. Only then did he turn and look back towards the tall captain, the captain who now had a double barreled dragon in his hand. "You are right, of course. My men can handle this.” He was shocked to see the tall captain suddenly raise that strange pistol and sprint towards him. And then everything disappeared in a cloud of smoke and noise and intense pain. Oh the pain.
Through it all he could hear Daniel's voice yelling orders, orders to his company, but it pained him to turn towards the voices so he did not. Instead he slumped to his knees and then flat onto the bridge deck.
"That is Prince Rupert's personal devil's brigade," Daniel yelled out to all the men around him. "Their armour will defeat your musket balls. Aim for the horses. Bring down the horses.” He had already fired his dragon to create a smoke screen for the men closest to the barricade who were most at risk of attack, but he still had to other barrel of his dragon, the pistol barrel, as well as his normal pistol which was now in his right hand. He fired both of them, both into the chests of the horses closest to the barricade.
The effect of his shots was immediate. Both horses reared in pain. Pistol shots were not quite heavy enough to assure deadly injuries to animals as large as these coursers, but when such animals are in pain they become a handful for their riders to control. That was what was now happening. Two out-of-control horses were misbehaving right in front of the barricade and stopping the riders racing up behind the leaders from getting close enough to attack the defending infantry.
Daniels example had shown Culpeper's men what to do. Now the horses on the bridge were being hit by musket balls, and musket balls were heavy enough and hit with force enough to bring a big horse to its knees. Now the long bridge deck was becoming a killing field, not of men, but of horses. Unfortunately for the Prince's men, so many injured and panicked horses contained in the small area of the bridge deck was turning it into a very dangerous place to be for mere mortals. They were being thrown, and then kicked or trampled, and one was even thrown off the bridge and into the Thames.
"Why aren't you raising the span," he yelled at the musketeers who were nearest to the capstan.
"Can't," one of them yelled back. "The weight of the horses has it locked down."
Every musketeer around him was taking advantage of the madness and terror on the bridge to reload. Daniel called out to them, "Good work lads. You may already have won the day. They needed to take this bridge, and take it quickly, and then hold it until more of their own men could arrive to secure it. You have stopped their first surprise attack, their best chance of taking it. By now the rest of your regiment will be running towards you to find out what all the gun fire is, and they will be bringing more muskets with them."
"Don't be so sure of that, sir," the sergeant called back. "There is a truce remember. We're more likely to be whipped for breaking the truce than to be thanked for keeping the bridge. And as for help coming. None of the other regiments are likely to risk a whipping without orders. Besides which, what if the town gate opens up and two thousand defenders spill out to make sure that Prince Rupert can cross this bridge. What then eh? Our main camp is on the south side, the other side of Reading."
The sergeant had made some good points, and now Daniel was looking all around, both across the river to see where the rest of Prince Rupert's flying army was, and on this side of the river to see where the closest reinforcements were. The men were watching him as he stared through his spectacle scope, and probably wondering what kind of lunatic would be staring at the world through a scroll pipe.
"There is a field gun just down river from here. The gunners are just leaning against it," Daniel called out as if expecting the men to call back an explanation.
"It was being brought here to support us," the sergeant replied, "but then the truce negotiations began, and so the gunners are waiting about for new orders."
Daniel shook his head in wonder. No, there was no wonder. No wonder at all, since this was the same General Assex who had camped the largest army in England at Windsor all winter, while leaving others to fight off the rampaging of Rupert's flying squads. In Assex's army no one did anything without Assex's orders, and Assex was loath to give any. He ran and leaped into Femke's saddle and rode her hard the quarter mile to the field gun.
It was a six pounder carried on a gun carriage fitted with cart wheels. With it was a small cart of shot and powder. There were only three gunners, but the gun was well defended by twenty musketeers. None of them so much as raised a hand never mind a weapon as Daniel, a stranger, rode up at speed.
"Prince Rupert's flying squads are attacking Caversham Bridge!" he yelled to them. "We need this cannon to defend it." You always had to yell at gunners for most of them were half deaf.
"There's a truce," replied the chief gunner, a stout corporal with upper arms the size of thighs.
"There may be a truce on this side of the Thames," Daniel told him, "but not on the other. Do you think that we rode across the bridge to find some of the devil prince's men to shoot at. They attacked us."
"Not movin' without orders."
"I'm giving the orders," Daniel barked at him. "Now get that gun to the bridge and be quick about it." By now he had dismounted and was standing beside the stocky corporal.
"And who may you be, your lordship?" the gunner asked him snidely. "No proper officer would ever consider riding such a nag." He walked closer to Femke and rubbed her affectionately on the neck with a well practiced touch. "She's got Peak's Pony blood in her, I'll wager. Tough and smart. Nay, no proper officer would recognize the worth of this pony because of her bony looks. Who did you say you were?"
Daniel didn't have time for this. No, the bridge didn't have time for this. He pulled his pocket pistol out of his cloak and held it to the back of the gunners head and told him in a loud enough voice that even a gunner could hear, "I'm the man whose going to blow your brains across that gun unless you follow my orders to the letter. Do I make myself clear."
The other gunners fell back, but some of the musketeers began to raise their muskets. "Don't even think about it." Daniel told them. "I borrowed the nag. In truth I am the general's favourite nephew and if any of you even scratch me you will be lashed raw and then hung."
No one actually believed such an obvious lie. It was just too far fetched. No one, that is, except for the gunner with the pistol to his head. "Well why didn't you say that in the beginning, your lordship. Lads, get this gun moving. Everyone lend a shoulder. Let's get it to the bridge.
And so they did, though every few yards seemed to take an eternity to Daniel, for at any moment he expected a greater force to attack the bridge. The same flying squad had tried again, but again they had been beaten back by the simple strategy of aiming at the horses. As he pushed the corporal along in front of him he feared that at any moment he could misstep, or be taken by surprise by one of the other gunners. His only claim to power was to keep control of the corporal, who was walking lockstep with him, still with the pistol to his head.
The bad news was good news when the Prince's select devils were joined by another flying squad, because suddenly all the men around him knew that this was a battle for the bridge, and that they had no option but to become a part of it. If those flying squads ever got over the bridge, they
would be in a killing mood, and capturing this gun would be their next target. The bad news was good news, for suddenly Daniel needn't play this silly hostage game any longer. The gunners and the musketeers leaped into action and rolled the gun and its cart to a likely place overlooking the upstream side of the bridge.
"Get it closer," Daniel told them. "We need a sure range to stop them.” They all heaved on the gun again to get it moving, and he wouldn't let them stop rolling the gun until the entire span of the bridge was within range of grape shot. Only then did he yell out, "Good enough, now load her up with grape."
"We daren't, your lordship sir," the corporal stepped away from him in horror. "The general's standing order is that we cannot fire grape without his written authorization.” But then the pistol was at his temples again, and he managed to squeak out, "Load grape," to his men. "Sir, we've had the no-grape rule ever since the battle at Kineton and Edgehill. Ever since a colonel fired at the Prince's cavalryers with grape and killed a few."
"Aye, that was Colonel John Hampden, and I was with him at the time. It surely did make the Prince's fine gentlemen retreat in a great hurry.” Daniel said all this as the field gun was being loaded and aimed. They were a well practiced crew, worthy of a navy ship. "You musketeers, fire at will at any horse being ridden across the bridge. The horse mind you, not the riders. The riders are Bohemians wearing armour of the finest German steel so your balls will just bounce off them."
"Ready to fire sir."
"Wait until the last of those injured horses are led off the bridge, and then we will target the next charge. Be ready to load more grape as soon as this load is gone.” It seemed like an hour that they waited, for just when the injured horses were led off, a dozen of Culpeper's men leaped over the barricade and began hauling two dead horses off the lifting span. Finally it was done, and the men at the capstan were testing it to see if the span moved. It did.
The dozen men began legging it back to the barricade but the flying squad must have finally realized what they had been doing and came for them at a full charge. What fools brave men are. To charge across a bridge into musket fire, when they had all seen what had happened to the first two charges. And surely they had noticed this field gun being moved into position. The fools. The brave fools.
This time the charge was different. This time their plan was to race sure and true on their best jumpers and leap the barricade to get at men behind it. They charged across the bridge with weapons not drawn and both hands on the reins, and all of them were sitting high and straight and proud. The gunners waited for Daniels order to fire.
The new plan might have worked if the field gun's grape hadn't come over the low wall of the bridge and put the horses off their stride. It might have worked if the musketeers had been foolish enough to shoot at the riders, rather than the horses. Instead it turned the far end of the bridge into the floor of an abattoir, for there was that much horse blood spurting about.
The riders fared little better, for many of them had to dive free of their saddles at a full charge. Their bones snapped against the bridge wall and the deck. Their screams mixed in with the screams of the injured horses as they were trampled and torn under hoof. One brave fool actually made it as far as the rising span and tried to leap his horse onto the lifting edge. If it had worked, it would have brought the span back down. Instead his horse shied at the last second and both horse and rider hit the edge of the rising span full on, and then slid off the bridge under the rising span and tumbled down into the deepest water of the River Thames.
That was the last charge for a good while. The devil's flying squads retreated and dismounted and tended to their injured. Daniel wanted to go and see to Culpeper's wound, but he daren't leave this gun, for he had no confidence that as soon as he was gone, the crew wouldn't wheel it back out of range. More men were arriving now on both sides of the bridge. Through his scope he could see an entire army coming towards it on the north bank. This included a thousand musketeers were being arranged along the other bank to fire at the men holding the barricades.
On this south bank other London’s militia companies had finally come to assist the company that had kept the bridge. Thus a thousand muskets faced a thousand muskets across the open span of a bridge across a river deep enough to drown anyone who fell in. Nary a shot was fired. Everyone on both sides seemed to be waiting for something. Of course, they were waiting for the garrison to sally forth from Reading and fight their way through to the bridge to lower the span.
They faced each other for over an hour until the dignitaries arrived. Through his scope Daniel could clearly see the king's standard and the prince's standard on the other bank. On this side General Essex arrived with all of his staff officers, and with them was the Colonel Fielding who had just signed the truce that surrendered Reading. Now there was a new truce declared, this time between the king and Essex, but it was a truce for the bridge only, so that spokesmen from the three groups could shout messages back and forth across the open span.
The king's spokesman wanted to know why the garrison hadn't sallied forth to help the prince's men capture the bridge. Colonel Fielding himself replied that the truce for the surrender of Reading had already been signed, and that he would not dishonor himself by breaking his word. Essex's spokesman assured them all that the safety of the surrendering Reading garrison would be respected, not just here at Reading, but for their entire march to Oxford. Daniel could hear it all from his perch on the breach of the field gun just downstream from the bridge.
Eventually all sides had said all there was to say, and came to the realization that what they had was a standoff. The king could not relieve the siege because of the bridge. The surrendering truce had held, and why not since the surrender included very good terms for the defenders. It didn't matter how much each side bargained, those truths were undeniable. Eventually all the musketeers on both banks were told to stand down and were marched out of range of the bridge. Once a thousand muskets aside were no longer facing each other, the king and the prince came forward to the edge of the raised span, as did Essex and Fielding, and the four of them discussed the situation in person.
Daniel was still perched on his field gun, and why not since the sun had broken through between storm clouds and he was enjoying the drying warmth of a sunbeam. The gun was still loaded with grape and was still aimed at the far end of the bridge. Both the king and the devil prince had just stepped in front of and well within proven range of the six or more pounds of grape shot loaded in the gun. Both royals were well armoured, so grape may not kill them, but it would certainly wound them. The truth about grape shot was that more men died of blood poisoning from the filthy shot than died of the shot itself.
Slowly, so as not to bring notice to himself, Daniel stepped down from his perch on the gun and casually walked to the rear of the gun with eyes searching to see the state of its vent hole and attached flash pan. The cover was still in place over the flash pan so the drizzle would not have dampened the powder. It was an older gun so the pan lid had to be removed manually, and there was no flint dog attached to spark the flash. To fire it you had to remove the pan lid and touch the power with a long pole holding a smouldering matchcord. He looked around for the pole. The corporal of the gun was holding it, and the smoulder had been cut from the cord. The alternative was to light it with the flint of one of his pistols, but that meant stepping in close behind the wheels where the gun's recoil could do him injury.
It would be worth it. If a broken bone or two was the cost of injuring the two most hated men in the kingdom, then so be it. He pulled his regular pistol out from his belt and oh so softly cocked it. Ever so innocently he moved toward the gun's vent, and then ever so innocently he pushed aside the pan cover and laid his cocked pistol down on top of the flash pan. Even if he was not hurt by the recoil, he would be blinded and deafened by the smoke and roar. He put his finger on the trigger and took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
"Not this time, yer lordship sir,"
the corporal's voice told him. "The truce is holdin' so there'll be no more grape without the general's written order.” The words came only after the man had already snatched away his pistol. "Not from my gun," he continued as he put the pan cover back in place. "The general would have me skinned alive.” He aimed the pistol at the tall captain. "Now, your lordship, please shove off away from my gun."
"My pistol?" Daniel asked him, while holding out his hand for it. The gunner opened pistol's pan lid and spat into the flash powder, and then handed it to him grip first. "No hard feelings?" It was only polite to ask, after all, earlier today he had held a pistol to this same gunner's head.
The gunner shrugged as if to say, "It's the war'", and then repeated, "Now shove off away from my gun."
"Stand where you are," came an order from behind Daniel towards the bridge. Everyone standing around the gun suddenly straightened up and put their shoulders back. The general's right hand man, Colonel Skippon had arrived. "Prince Rupert has made an official complaint against this gun crew and I have been sent to investigate. He says that this gun dared to shoot grape shot at gentlemen of worth and he wants the man responsible delivered to him to be tried for the deaths of some of those gentlemen."
"That would be me, sir," Daniel spoke out. "I ordered the gun to be loaded with grape and I ordered it to be fired."
"Remind me of where I know you from," Skippon asked him.
"We met at Brentford after that same Prince Rupert sacked the town, ravaged the women, massacred almost everyone, and then tried to blow up his prisoners." At that time Daniel had been introduced to Skippon by John Hampden. Skippon was the 'go for' who did the grunt work of commanding the army on Essex's behalf.