by Smith, Skye
"Choose a closer target,” Daniel advised while Henry was taking aim at the scarecrow. "The problem with small pistols is they are only useful for close up butchery. Not only does the short barrel limit the aimed range, but it is difficult to keep the aim while you pull the trigger. Try to hit that barrel top."
"Bah! That is but six feet away." Henry aimed at the wooden barrel top leaning beside a flower pot, pulled the trigger and there was much noise and smoke and the sound of a flower pot bursting as the ball shattered it. "Oh, I see. Of course. A minute change of angle in my hand makes for a wide miss. Yes, wrap it up. I will take it with me and practice when I get home."
Daniel pulled the pistol out of his hand. "First I will take it apart and inspect it. Then we will discuss price."
"Oh the price is fixed,” the shopkeeper called out, and then whispered the price.
Daniel shrugged and took the tiny pistol to a bench and used the tools hidden in the handle to disassemble the works. He was pleased to see a works of fine quality, and rarely fired. He checked the fool's gold. It was new. He then cleaned the pistol and fitted it all back together. "It is a fair price for a matched pair. Where is the other one? I need to check it as well."
The shopkeeper caught his breath. "A matched pair? No, sir. That is the price of each."
"Come, Henry. You do not need a gun this fine for simple practicing. There is a Dutchman two streets over who may have something more fitting." He took Henry's arm and pushed him towards the door to the street.
"Wait!" the shopkeeper called after them. "My helper has made a silly mistake in the pricing code. The price should have been for the pair. Of course, that is without case or holsters."
By the time they reached the street, each man had a small pistol holstered in the small of their backs. "I cannot accept such a costly gift from you, Henry."
"Of course you can. It has been but weeks since you saved my wife from brigands. Besides, your pistol cost me nothing. Had you not been there I would still have only the pistol I carry. Come to my house for some Genever and food. Better yet, stay with me while you are in London and you can teach me how to use this thing."
"I would love to stay with you Henry, for my bed tonight is a cot above a shop. Unfortunately, I am the chaperone of a sweet lass who has come to London to wed, and it would not be proper to leave the couple alone together in the groom's house for two weeks while we wait for the ceremony."
"Pappekak." Henry smiled at his own use of the Dutch saying that Daniel had taught him at the gunsmith's shop. "Take me to this couple, and we will put them out of their misery in minutes."
It was a shorter walk to reach Cheapside than the walk of its full length to Saint Paul's, but within minutes they were at the goldsmith's shop. It took a minute for Henry, trained in law, to explain that the couple could be married immediately under common law since there were two adult male witnesses present who were of no relation to the couple. The subsequent ceremony at Saint Paul’s would simply expand the vows to be acceptable to the Church of England.
The couple were quick to make their oaths to each other, and then impatiently pushed their two witnesses outside to go and fetch Daniel's horses from the stable around the corner. A half hour later when they returned leading the horses to fetch the saddles and Daniel's gear, they were forced to wait on the doorstep for many minutes while the joyous song of a goldsmith floated out through the upstairs window as he reached Heaven's gate.
In contrast to the sparse rooms above the goldsmith shop, Henry's new and fashionable townhouse seemed indecently luxurious. It was in a row of like houses, all sharing walls, which stretched in a curve that matched the curve of the street. There was a shared stable in the mews behind, where there were horses and small carriages for rent. Henry's 'housekeeper' was a pleasant woman, pleasant of voice and pleasant to look at, and barely twenty years old. When told that Daniel was staying, she immediately sent a message to bring her sister over to keep him company.
In truth, for the week he spent as Henry's guest while waiting to give Alice away at Saint Paul’s, he saw the housekeeper’s sister only at bedtime. The daylight and evening hours he spent in the company of Parliamentarians, all of them friends or political associates of Henry's, and all of them Republican to the core. Never had he ever seen so much money being spent on meals and drinks in fashionable and therefore costly clubs. Not that he had to pay any of the coin. His payment was in stories of how the Dutch had organized their militias so as to consistently defeat the professional Imperial armies.
Despite the rich hospitality that was lavished upon him, he could not warm to these men. They seemed to be Republicans for all the wrong reasons. Their reasons for getting rid of the aristocracy were not about righting the wrongs of inherited privilege, or about sharing out the common wealth more equally, or about improving the lot of the folk who the nobles trampled underfoot to keep their wealth. No, they were Republicans because they wanted to become the ruling elite in place of the aristocrats..
How silly would it be for the kingdom to replace an existing aristocracy that was based on bloodlines with a new aristocracy that was based on wealth. In his mind the two groups were equally parasitic and equally reliant on their inheritances. Sometimes, no, often, he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from lashing out at these wealthy, educated, self-involved men while they treated him to all the good life that London offered.
The wedding at Saint Paul’s was well-attended by Thomas's entire extended family on his side, but only by Daniel, Henry, and Henry's town women on Alice's side. Thomas's family feasted until the early morning whereas the four who had stood for Alice left the wedding feast shortly after the bridal couple. In the morning, Daniel's caught the post coach to Cambridge and went home to Wellenhay.
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THE PISTOLEER - HellBurner by Skye Smith Copyright 2013-14
Chapter 9 - The treasurer of Scotland in London in March 1639
"Forgive me for bringing you here from Ely in this weather, but I thought the offer might interest you." Henry Marten made the false apology to Daniel after he had finished a brief introduction to a dour Scot. Daniel and the Scot would be guests together at his fine London townhouse for the next few days, windy March days that were better spent indoors than out.
Daniel had listened carefully to the introduction with as much interest as he could spare from the delicious smells of food wafting through the library. His stomached growled. Not an hour ago he had stepped down from the Cambridge post coach, and when traveling by coach he never ate. He would rather go hungry than risk catching the trots from the food that was hawked at every coach stop.
The Scot was John Stewart - Earl of Traquair, and was King Charlie's Lord High Treasurer of Scotland, but neither this middle-aged man nor his titles impressed Daniel. What had impressed him was that he was staying at Henry's house, for Henry was a true Republican who hated the king and all his lords. "So you came to London to buy muskets, a lot of muskets?" he queried.
"Of course not,” Stewart replied. "I came to discuss finances with his Majesty. Since I am here in any case, I was comparing the availability and price of muskets against Edinburgh. As in Scotland, there are shortages which have prices rising."
With the thought that Henry would not have sent for him to 'not' speak about muskets, Daniel told the Scot, "The only place with a surplus of muskets, and therefore good prices, is the Netherlands. Not for modern muskets, mind you, but for old-fashioned muskets taken from the retreating Imperial armies."
"So Henry has told me." The thick brogue of the Scots accent sometimes sounded like the man was choking on his own words. "Which is why you were sent for." The tone was dismissive, as if Daniel was Henry's servant. "Henry has told me that you can arrange for the collection, purchase, and delivery of Dutch muskets to any east coast port."
"Imperial muskets,” Daniel corrected.
"Whatever."
"It makes a difference. Dutch muskets are fa
r superior, and therefore costly."
"Imperial muskets then." The dismissive tone returned. "Don't mince words with me. Can you supply me with muskets, a lot of muskets, or not?"
"I can." Daniel did not mince words. "What type, how many, when, and where?"
"How much for each musket?"
"That depends on what type, how many, when, and where?"
"What is the difference in price between matchlock and snap-lock muskets?" Stewart asked.
"At least ten shillings. Perhaps fifteen."
"Then matchlocks, five hundred matchlocks with an option for five hundred more at the same price, delivered as soon as possible to Dalkeith Palace. That is my estate near Edinburgh." Stewart lowered his voice and turned his face to Henry. "All this is in the strictest confidence, of course."
"Of course,” Henry replied. "You will, of course, need my assistance to do the exchange and financing."
Now Daniel knew why Henry was involved. He was looking to make a commission from both of them. Not just from the muskets, but also from the transfer of funds.
"I am the High Treasurer of Scotland, sir, so why would I need your assistance in financial matters?"
"Perhaps because you are the High Treasurer of Scotland,” Daniel pointed out to save Henry the embarrassment of stating the obvious. "If you are purchasing the muskets for the King's garrisons, then their quartermasters should have placed the order. If you are purchasing them in your own name, then taxes will be due, and therefore there will be a record of your ownership. I assume that the quartermasters will be paying Edinburgh prices for the muskets. I take it that prices are quite high in Edinburgh."
Stewart's silence spoke volumes about his corrupt dealings as Scotland's High Treasurer. Daniel continued. "By using Henry's name with the banks, the shipping agents, and the customs agents, your involvement with the delivery of the muskets will be obscured."
After a few moments of thinking Stewart asked, "Payment on delivery?"
It was a good sign. Stewart was beginning the bargaining process, which meant he was ready to commit to a deal. "Of course not,” Daniel replied. "No guns are ever paid for on delivery. Payment will be kept in trust and will be partially paid out at each stage of the delivery. That is why you need Henry and his contacts. I will be buying the muskets in lots of seventy-two, and I will need the price of the first lot up front. Twelve hundred shillings in Spanish gold eights. Henry will explain the rest."
Henry was catching his breath. The amount Daniel had quoted was London prices for good used matchlocks. Stewart would now bargain him down to something much more reasonable for battlefield salvage. He was, after all, a Scot. Instead Stewart said nothing and just stared at him waiting for the other details. Only then did it dawn on him how much profit Stewart expected to make from reselling them to the garrisons.
"Most of this business will be done in Amsterdam," Henry explained, "and therefore the exchange of payment for delivered goods will be assured in the modern Dutch way. You will have three agents working for you in Amsterdam. Daniel is your purchasing agent and buys the first lot of muskets using a partial payment released to him by your banking agent. He delivers the first lot of muskets to your shipping agent who inspects the count and the quality, and authorizes the next partial payment from your banking agent.
Once the last lot is delivered, the shipping agent has them put on a ship for bonded delivery. If they do not arrive at your palace, then you can claim the bond. As the Treasurer of Scotland, I assume that you already have a shipping and a banking agent in Amsterdam. Do you wish to use them?"
"Of course,” Stewart began, sputtered, thought, and changed what he had been about to say. "Of course I do not wish to use them."
"Then tomorrow,” Henry said patiently, "we will all visit the Royal Exchange and arrange for two Amsterdam agents for you, and arrange for the transfer of your funds from Edinburgh to Amsterdam."
"Rotterdam rather than Amsterdam,” Daniel corrected, and then explained. "Military ordinance is easier to find around Rotterdam. It is a base for the Dutch Navy, and closer to the border with Imperial Flanders."
"And how much will it cost to use your name instead of mine in the Royal Exchange?" Stewart asked Henry.
Before Henry could answer there was a knock at the door, a pause, and then an exquisitely dressed woman opened the door, curtseyed to the Earl in a way that had every man's eyes drawn to her ample cleavage and said, "Dinner is ready. Shall I have it served?"
The first on his feet was Daniel. He was so hungry he hadn't given the proffered cleavage near the attention it deserved. In his rush he missed Henry's answer to Stewart, but he did receive a smile from the woman, Gabrielle, as she stood. She was a new one. Henry always hired wondrous hostesses to help him entertain in his London townhouse, for his wife Margaret refused to live in London. Gabrielle was part French and she had dark eyes and hair, and a come hither purse to her lips.
Two other equally comely women with a French look to them, were standing at the top of the staircase waiting for Gabrielle's signal before they made an entrance. They did not start down until John Stewart was in the front hall and watching them. Now Daniel understood all of why the King's High Treasurer of Scotland was staying at republican Henry's house. If Stewart had stayed at one of the King's palaces, he couldn't have bounced beauties such as these without the gossip reaching his home.
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"Why?" Daniel asked Henry once Stewart had been led upstairs to his chambre by the two mademoiselles. Henry put a finger to his lips, so he continued in a whisper, "Why would you of all people, want me to supply the King's garrisons in Scotland with muskets?"
"He will buy the muskets whether you supply them or someone else, however if you are supplying them, we will know where they are." By 'we' Henry meant his cadre of republican political contacts in England and in Scotland. "We will also have documented proof of his corruption, if ever we need a hold over him."
"And of course, there is the commission you will make."
"Bah, my commission won't even cover the cost of those women he is cocking his leg over. You have no idea of what it costs to buy the favour of two French courtesans for two weeks."
"Two weeks?" Daniel confirmed.
"He has already been my guest for a week, and it will be another week before we receive confirmation that the agents and the funding are ready to use in Rotterdam. But you needn't linger. As soon as we have set it all up with the agent of a Dutch bank at the Royal Exchange, then you can leave for Rotterdam. The sooner you spend some of Stewart's money, the sooner he will be locked into the deal."
With a smile and a sip of Genever, Daniel settled back into the overstuffed chair. He was already counting his profit in his head. Shipping costs and bonding costs would come out of his end, so the size of his profit depended on his getting a good price on the muskets. He would buy a ship's passage from London to Rotterdam so he could start the search for muskets as soon as possible. Meanwhile he would send a message to his village to sail the Freisburn over and meet him.
It was the stuff of dreams for a small ship trader from the Wash. Business had been very slow of late, and not just in the Fens, but everywhere. For small ships like his it had become very slow, because the Dutch-style ships called fluyts were taking over more and more of the North Sea cargo business. Five years ago the small ships had been competed out of the deep sea bulk cargo market, and now it was happening with coastal cargo, too.
Unlike the main trade routes, in the Fens the small ships were still hanging on because they could navigate the rivers and waterways where the larger fluyts could not go. The day he had left Wellenhay to come to London, the Freisburn had been contracted to transship a cargo from a fluyt at Lynn, up the Ouse and Cam rivers to Cambridge. Someone shook his arm and he opened his eyes. How long had he been snoozing?
"Henri 'as already gone to bed,” a sultry French accent whispered into his ear. "Come, I will 'elp you to bed."
He opened his eyes
expecting to see Gabrielle, but it was Giselle, one of the courtesans. How could he say no to such an offer? Arm in arm they made their way upstairs to his bedroom. As she opened the door to enter he asked, "Aren't you promised to the Earl?"
"Hees bed is too petite for trois. This is where I 'ave been sleeping, alors, but now it is your room. The bed is already warm. I was waiting for you, but you did not come." She placed her candle lamp down on a side board and showed him the basin and pitcher of water. "The washing water, eet will be cold now."
While he washed, she disrobed, fully disrobed, with as much modesty as a Frisian lass, none at all. He wondered what this was costing Henry, or was he expected to pay to get her into the bed. It didn't matter. Standing there naked while washing he felt cold to the bone. There would be time enough to bargain once he was warming himself against her skin.
"Eee,” she whispered a scream as he got under the covers. "What ees that, so long and hard? Get it away from me, it is so cold."
"Sorry, sorry, in London I always sleep with a pistol under my pillow."
"Well, not under my pillow. Put eet on the table." As a reward for doing so, she pulled his face into the magic place between her breasts. "You see, pillows should be soft and warm."
"Mmm mumph mmm,” he whispered as he pushed his face upwards through her cleavage until he could see her eyes. "How much is this going to cost me?" In London there were always two prices. The low price for those who asked the price first, and the high price for those who did not.
"What do you ask? So you think me a whore?"
"Henry told me that you were a courtesan."
"Oui, une courtesanne. Men pay for my company. My favours are given freely or not at all. My choice."