by Smith, Skye
Alice coughed. She hated the coal that Londoners burned. It was filthy stuff. The black coal dust got on everything, so keeping things clean was an endless, thankless task. The smoke from it filled the air and then filled your lungs, and then filled your hankies. In the winter the coal smoke became so dense that the London fog was a greasy grayish brown rather than pure white. Coal was cheaper to burn than wood because the huge coal mines of the north were close to ports. Coal barges and colliers arrived every day in London to feed the ever-growing need for coal.
"I would wager,” Alice said after clearing some black grit from her throat, "that any of your village teens would leave your village if she were offered a room in a brick house with all the modern conveniences."
There was a gang of lads up to no good ahead of them on this side of the street, so Daniel pulled Alice over to the other side, and got yelled at by a trap driver who was taken by surprise by him suddenly crossing the street and was forced to pull his horse to a stop. Daniel yelled back at him, "How much for the two of us to Saint Paul's?"
The fare was set and Daniel lifted Alice onto the rear-facing seat and then hoisted himself up beside her. They were away none too soon because a battle royal had begun between the gang of ne’er-do-wells and some apprentice butchers from the market who had piled out of an alehouse at the first sign of trouble.
"More trouble every week,” the trap driver moaned. "Every week more lads and less work to keep them busy. The price of food is always climbing, and the more folk must pay for food the less is left for rent and fares." He swung his horse around the next corner and into a wider street that led towards the Royal Exchange. "I've got an empty seat,” he said to Alice while patting the forward-facing seat next to him. "Do you mind if I troll for another fare near the Exchange?"
Daniel would have refused permission but Alice spoke first. "So long as he is clean." And then to Daniel. "The Stock Exchange is close to my shop, and it will be the driver's best chance of a good fare at this time of day."
They circled the small square in front of the Exchange while the trap driver called out to anyone wearing boots too costly for walking in the muck of the streets. One of them finally returned the hail from the driver and he pulled his trap over to the edge of the small square in front of the grand entrance steps to the Exchange. The new fare had called out from the steps of the exchange and now he began to wend his way between the freelance stockbrokers who did their business out in the square because they were not allowed inside the building.
Daniel had been inside the Royal Exchange last year but he had never understood all the activity and the signals between brokers.. The chanting and calling and the waving of handful of papers by the brokers standing up and down the steps made it seem like business was good today. His quiet interest was interrupted by a yell from the driver.
"Here, you, leave go of that man! He's my fare!"
Twisting round, Daniel saw a man going down onto the paving stones under the weight of three others. The brokers were pushing back from the melee and were blocking his view, but he could see that the fare was being pummeled cruelly. "Stay in the trap,” he cautioned Alice as he leaped down from it. In three strides he was at the ring of onlooking brokers.
The brokers were city men, educated men, and all a head shorter and a shoulder lighter than Daniel, so breaking through the ring barely slowed him down. There was a man on the ground protecting his head from a cane that was being used as a cudgel by one of the assailants. Another assailant was kicking at the poor man. A third man seemed to be urging the two assailants on. He was keeping back as if on watch, and had one hand on the butt of the pistol in his belt.
Daniel's right hand instinctively reached for the small gentlemen's wheel-lock pistol he carried under his cloak in a holster in the small of his back. On second thought he did not pull it. He carried only one pistol, and the problem with having only one was that if he fired a warning shot to the sky to get everyone's attention, that would be his only shot. Worse, these three rough men would know he had wasted his only chance of making real trouble for them.
He could pull it and shoot one of the two men doing the beating, but that would leave him with an empty pistol facing the man in charge of the beating who was standing back with his hand on his own pistol. It took all his will power not to give the two a punch and a kick to slow the ruffians down, but it was not necessary. They had each pulled back their last blows and were waiting for a reaction, either from their victim or from the growing crowd of brokers.
In the interlude Daniel took a better gauge of the man with the pistol. His right hand was still on the butt, but his left hand had just cocked the thing even though it was still pushed down his belt. Were his intentions to murder the man, or just be ready to wave the thing if the brokers took a hand to defend the man on the ground? One long stride took Daniel within reach behind the pistol man. He reached around him from the back without touching him and pulled the cocked trigger.
The pistol roared and there was a billow of hot smoke and then the shriek from the pistol man, and then another shriek and another. The man leaped away from Daniel and looked down at his crotch and at his leg to make sure that he was still a whole man.
The pistol's clap and the acrid smoke woke up the brokers who had been watching the beating but not doing anything to stop it. They all pushed backwards into those behind them, thus widening the ring of space that contained the victim, his three assailants, and Daniel. The two men who had been doing the beating were now striding towards Daniel, but Daniel had expected this and already had his own pistol in his hand and was waving it between them.
"Stay back,” Daniel warned them, "else one of you will die here today and I don't care which." And then to the ring of brokers. "Help the man up, and see if he can still stand."
The brokers were slow to move, frozen in place by the sound of one pistol and the waving of another. This was not good. Daniel had hoped the brokers would have rushed forward and put a protective wall around the downed man. If they didn't move soon, the three assailants would regroup and attack him. By the efficiency of their beating, they were not amateurs at dirty work.
Instead, it was Alice who rushed to the man's side and tried to lift one of his arms. The man groaned but seemed to be in no hurry to gain his feet. Alice yelled at the brokers closest to her to help her, but they did not move. They just stared at the three rough men, and the tall blonde man with the small pistol. Alice went back to pulling at the man to get him to stand, but then she stopped. She had felt something in the small of his back. She reached under the man's coat and then swung around to face the assailant who had powder burns down his crotch. In her hand was a small pistol very much like Daniel's.
She gained her feet and used both hands to steady the pistol and waved it in the direction of Burnt-crotch. While raising the barrel slightly, she squinted her eyes almost closed and turned her head away ever so slightly. She had the attention of every man in the ring and within the ring, and the effect her shying her eyes from the pistol was immediate. The only reason she would have turned her face away was because she was going to pull the trigger and she didn't want the powder flash and smoke in her face. Every man ducked low and turned away from her. Burned-crotch ducked so low that he lost his balance and ended up on his hands and knees.
With a wave of his own pistol to get their attention, Daniel hissed at the two rough men who were still standing, "Get your gov'ner out of here before I tell her to shoot his balls off." They thought about his words for less than a breath before they stepped forward, grabbed Burnt-crotch, and pulled him along through the few brokers who were still anywhere near Alice's line of fire.
With the situation more in hand, now the trap driver found his voice and yelled out, "Stop those men! They've beaten a man half to death. Their pistol is empty. Stop those men!" Hearing the obvious, that their pistol was empty, put enough courage in the city slicker brokers to take up the call, and though the call followed the rough men out
of the square, no one stepped forward to stop them. This because yet another call went out through the brokers. "They are wearing the archbishop's sash."
Though Alice now had her eyes open again, she didn't seem to be aware of where her pistol was pointing. Or perhaps she did. In any case, when she told the three brokers standing nearest to her to load the beaten man onto the trap, they took one look at her wavering barrel and did so immediately.
"Not on the seat!" the trap driver shouted at them. "He's been on the ground so his clothes will be filthy. I'll not have him on my seats. This is a respectable trap, this is. Lay him on the floor underneath the back seat." The brokers did as they were asked, but to do so had to roll the poor man face up.
"Oy!" one of the brokers called to the others, "You know who this is? None other than John Hampden. You know. The man who refused to pay the Ship Money taxes and almost won the case in court. He's as wealthy as a baron, he is. There'll be trouble about this, you'll see."
Alice was cleaning the man's face with her hanky when Daniel reached her. The man's eyes were open and he was trying to un-grit his teeth and smile at the pretty young woman. "John, it's me, Daniel. We met at Henry's house. How badly are you hurt?"
"We'll take him to my shop. It's close by,” Alice whispered to Daniel so she wouldn't be overheard by the men who had helped her. "I'll clean him up and see if he needs a doctor." It was a good enough plan, so Daniel lifted her up onto the rear seat where she placed her legs firmly down around the injured man so that he would not roll backwards off the trap. Daniel climbed up beside the driver and they were away.
* * * * *
Later the same day when Robert and Oliver returned from Westminster to the shop on Cheapside, they were both bubbling with excitement about how Parliament had foiled the king on this day. They were shocked to find the shop closed and a physician inside checking another parliamentarian for broken ribs. After hearing the story as they walked in the shop door from Alice, they raced to the back room to see how John Hampden was doing. The physician had him bare to the waist, and he was quite black and blue.
"Just what were you thinking, posting that tax-strike pamphlet in person,” Robert said in exasperation to John. He had enough battlefield experience to see immediately that John's wounds would look ugly for some time, but that they were not serious. "Of course you were given a beating by the Archbishop's men. You were lucky not to be dragged off to prison for sedition."
"In truth I think that was the intent," Daniel told them. "If not for Alice, Laud's men would have him in Lollards tower by now."
Robert shot his little sister a stern look, but then continued with his scolding. "You have gangs of men working for you to distribute the pamphlet. There was no reason for you to take such a personal risk."
"Ah, but there was a reason,” John explained while taking sucks of breath between the exploratory proddings of the physician. "Only members and guests are allowed into the Royal Exchange. That was the one place other than Westminster where I had to post the pamphlet in person. It was almost worth the beating to see its immediate effect on the gentry within the Exchange. They hate paying taxes, especially the taxes that serve no other use than to keep the king's palaces in luxuries. I daresay that most of them will withhold taxes as the pamphlet has asked."
"Did anyone follow you here?" asked Alice's husband Tom, who had fetched the physician for John . ""I didn't realize that it was Archbishop Laud's men who gave you this beating. I owe much of my business to Saint Paul’s, and he could ruin me if he is angered by our helping you."
"Shhh,” Alice calmed him. "No one followed us. I kept the pistol in my hand all the way here. No one who witnessed the beating would have been foolhardy enough to be within its range." She looked over at Daniel and they both began to laugh, and laugh hard and her next words came in gasps. "Did you see... the looks ... on those broker's faces ... when I waved it about?"
"It was the finest,” Daniel was also pushing words out between gales of laughter, "of tactics ... so many ... filthy kneecaps ... from bowing before ... one woman.... It was as if you .... were old Queen Bess."
Alice said no more until she had controlled her laughter. "I felt very powerful. It felt good. How much does a pistol like that cost? I mean, despite its weight, it would surely fit into my portemon. I was surprised at the weight. I needed both hands to raise the barrel."
"You just need some practice, love,” Daniel explained. "But Tom would never spend the coin for such a fine pistol as that for you. I'll keep my eye out for something as small, but cheaper."
"I forbid it,” Thomas whispered to Alice.
"But Tom, you should have seen what we saw today,” Daniel objected. "Good Bess's Poor Laws have been twisted by the burghers. The Queen enacted them to ensure that everyone was fed and slept with a roof over their heads because her doctors told her it was the surest way of keeping the plagues from spreading. The burghers and lords have twisted the Poor Laws to force the homeless to work as unpaid labour, and because of it all labourers are being offered poverty wages. I have never seen so many street whores. I have never seen London's streets look so threatening."
"Ask poor John,” Alice pointed to the man who was being helped back on with his shirt. The physician was finished with him and was packing his black bag.
"Love, a pistol will be by far the most costly thing you carry,” Thomas argued, "and so it will be the first thing taken from you."
"Hah, you should have seen how men dived away from me when I swung to aim it. Though I must admit that I was at a loss as to how to cock it. There was no flint dog to cock and the trigger was not tight against a spring, but moved easily with a whirring sound."
"So you pulled the trigger?" Daniel turned to her. "You could have shot someone."
"Like I said,” Alice smiled demurely. "It wasn't cocked."
"Uh,” John spoke up. "That is the pistol that Henry Marten gave to me the other night. It is a Dutch copy of a German clockmaker's design. There is no mainspring to cock because the trigger spins the sparking wheel without the help of a spring."
Alice looked suddenly stricken. "You mean it could have gone off?"
"I'm surprised it didn't, love,” Daniel replied. "You must have pulled the trigger very slowly for it not to have sparked the flash powder."
John reached out and clasped his pistol up from where it was laying on the side board next to his clothes. "Here, Alice. Accept it with my thanks. I give it to you, and gladly, for keeping me out of Laud's hands. Besides, it is the perfect pistol for a woman for it needs constant cleaning."
"Not now John,” Robert told him softly. "It is a generous gift, but for another time. You may need it to get home safely."
"But I have other, more normal pistols at home..."
Robert interrupted, "And yet you carry the little wheel-lock that Henry Marten gave to you just a few nights ago. There is a reason for that. Most pistols are difficult to draw from concealment because their flint hammers catch on clothing. Once you have another wheel-lock to replace this one, then repeat your offer to my sister."
The physician was shown out of the shop by Thomas, and when he returned he mentioned that it was finally dark outside, so he had sent the neighbour’s lad off to find a horse trap.
"Where do you live John?" Daniel asked. "We will see you safely home."
"In the same close as Henry Marten,” John replied. "The big house at the end. But first we must stop at Pym's house. I must tell him how well our idea of a tax strike was received at the Exchange, and of my brush with that devil of an archbishop. I must tell him to keep the House discussing the Ships Money tax and away from all of the side issues."
"I don't consider the grand theft of common land as a side issue," Oliver said as he stood. In the small room, just the act of standing put him face to face with John. "Twisting old laws like the Enclosure Law and the Forest Law is the same issue as the twisting of the Ships Money law. At least that tax is taken from the merchants who can afford it
, rather than the cottagers and villagers who are losing their commons."
"Yes, yes, yes,” John waved away Oliver's complaint. "Of course. However, if we can convince the merchants to withhold the Ships Money, Charlie will be forced to concede other things to Parliament as well. Once that happens, Parliament can clear the books of all of those old laws so that the king cannot twist them to his own purposes."
"Uh, don't take this the wrong way,” Thomas said to Robert and Oliver, "but if you two are going near to Henry Marten's house, then perhaps you could ask him if you could stay as his guests rather than mine. Not that I don't enjoy your company. I do. But it may go badly for my business and for Alice's safety, if parliamentarians are seen coming and going from my door. Please do not take offence, it's just that my business relies heavily on the good graces of Saint Paul’s, which is ruled by Archbishop Laud."
While the men gathered themselves, and checked the prime of their pistols, Daniel took Robert aside so he could give him some advice without the others hearing. "Rob, you must ignore her while you live under Henry's roof. Mary Ward, I mean. You must treat her at all times with the formal respect due his wife, for so she is his wife in every way but by law."
Robert was immediately hostile to his friend's warning. "You mean like with the respect you showed towards his legal wife Margaret? I was on the other side of the curtain that first night at the coach inn, remember. I heard you ravishing each other."
"Shhh!" Daniel hissed while motioning him to keep his voice down. "That was before we met Henry or were his guests. It is different now."
"If Henry can keep more than one wife, then why shouldn't Mary take more than one husband?"
"It's different and you know it. All I am saying is that for Mary's sake you must behave while under his roof. She carries his child and that fact has made her for life, but it will only bring good things to her so long as she remains true to him. Leave her be."