Strife Beyond Tamar

by Oliver, Marina

  The way led up a steep road, and then they turned aside to climb a flight of steps. At the top was a narrow path and they had to go in single file. As Kate followed the others she realised there was someone behind her, and she knew before she turned to look that it was Petroc.

  'My congratulations,' he said quietly so only she could hear, coming close behind her.

  She frowned. 'I assume you refer to Jon's escape from the Parliamentarians?' she queried sharply.

  'Oh, not at all,' he said, laughing at her indignant expression as she halted and turned to face him. 'I referred to your escape, my precious Kate.'

  'You are impertinent,' was all she could think of in reply, but it did not seem to deter him.

  'He told you a tale of being captured by the rebels, did he?'

  'Which proves he is not in league with them, and you were mistaken or worse about what you said!' she retorted.

  'I wonder. Do you really think I and my friends leave our coast so unprotected?'

  'They asked him about Royalist movements, and threatened to torture him,' she protested.

  'Anyone could ask such questions, and you only have his word.'

  'I believe him, whatever you say trying to discredit him.'

  'I can wait,' Petroc answered calmly.

  'It is true,' Kate repeated. 'It must be. Who else could have captured him?'

  'Was he really captured? Or was it a convenient excuse to disappear quietly for a few days to seek his other friends?'

  'He would not have done that on the eve of our wedding,' she said, confused by these suggestions.

  'Some other time he might have done? You see, you are admitting the possibility.'

  'Nothing of the sort!'

  She turned angrily away and walked after the others, now some distance away.

  'Your wedding would have deterred him even so?' Petroc's voice came again in her ear.

  'Yes!' was all the reply she vouchsafed, not deigning to turn, and walking on head held high.

  'Poor Kate, deprived of a husband!'

  As the monstrous suspicion struck her Kate halted abruptly and swung round, to find Petroc right behind her, his face close to hers as he bent towards her.

  'If it were not the Parliamentmen,' she began slowly, 'who was it?'

  'Who knows? Who will ever know? But take care of yourself for me Kate, for I'm off to join Nick Slanning for a while!'

  Before she could answer he grinned, and turned away to stride quickly down the path. Kate stared after him for a while, fighting with the thoughts that whirled chaotically in her mind then, realising how far behind the others she was, turned and ran to catch up with them as they reached the top of the hill and took the path that led to Aunt Elizabeth's house.

  *

  There was no time to think quietly of what Petroc had said until they were back in Fowey that night and Morwenna had fallen asleep, but then Kate could think, and attempt to sort out the ideas that seemed so fantastic. If what she suspected was true it could have been Petroc and his men who had captured Jon. They could easily have pretended to be Parliamentarians to throw suspicion from themselves. If this were so, why? Had Petroc been high handed enough to intervene in the arrangements for her wedding? Kate fumed with anger at the thought. He was too arrogant. Did he mean what he said about marrying her himself? This she could not believe, and although his words had always embarrassed her, she had assumed they were some jest that afforded him some amusement. He liked to see her confused, unable to think of an adequate reply. But that was not enough reason to prevent her marriage, if he had indeed done so.

  'I hate him! I would certainly never marry such a man! I love Jon!' she whispered to herself many times before eventually falling asleep.

  Unable to solve the puzzle, Kate tried to forget the strange affair, merely looking forward to the time when she would again see Jon. Nick announced his intention of riding with Petroc to join Slanning, saying the boats could be left in charge of their seconds in command but the army was desperately short of cavalry, and they could be of greater use on land for the moment. When they returned it was with reports of mixed fortunes.

  'We had the whole length of the Tamar to guard,' Nick explained to his eager family. 'The attack came at Launceston, across Lifton Bridge, but we contrived to beat them off after an exhausting day.'

  'And would have ensured complete victory had we pursued them,' Petroc commented. 'It was only James Chudleigh's coolness that saved them from a rout. He preserved order and insisted on taking the guns, but Sir Ralph did not follow up his advantage. He could have captured them.'

  'After such a hard day the men were in no fit state, and several were hurt when that magazine exploded. Hopton could not afford to drive them too hard,' Nick explained. He went on, 'Two days later we followed towards Okehampton, and were joined by Henry Carey, the new high sheriff of Devon, and some volunteers. It was a hot, sultry day, and the men were tired of marching. On Sourton Down, as evening fell, we were attacked, and formed up for battle, beating off the next assault. Then we waited in the dark for hours, but no further attack came.'

  Petroc laughed. 'They had left burning ropes on top of gorse bushes, to make us think their army waited, while most of them withdrew. I was suspicious of the stillness of the lights, and the quiet, so went to investigate. After I reported it, this was confirmed when a tremendous storm broke. It sent the remaining troops scuttling for shelter! The elements won at Sourton Down!'

  'Did you not go after Chudleigh later?' Kate asked.

  'Nick Slanning sent us back before it was decided,' Nick replied. 'He had news of ammunition in Pendennis, and feared renewed attacks on the shipping. Also he needs more money, and sent messages with us to that effect.'

  'Were our losses heavy?' Morwenna asked quietly.

  'Not many dead. But several captured or missing,' Nick answered quickly, glancing at Petroc who was gazing steadily at Kate. 'Henry Carey is missing, and also, I fear, Jon. But do not despair, Kate. He may have become separated from the rest of us in the dark and the confusion, and be hiding. Before we left some such were coming into camp. There was no news, and his body was not found,' Nick said gently.

  'I've no doubt he'll turn up,' Petroc interposed. 'But there is something else. Hopton's portmanteau was captured when his secretary was killed, with lists of those contributing, and a letter advising Hopton to march towards Somerset to rendezvous with the rest of the King's horse.'

  'We suspect someone slipped across to the other side in the darkness, with the portmanteau,' Nick said slowly, and Kate turned to him with a gasp.

  'You mean you accuse Jon?' she cried hotly. 'How dare you, with nought but your base suspicions, no proof!'

  Nick shrugged, and glanced across at Petroc who was still regarding Kate unblinkingly. They had discussed on their way to Fowey whether to tell Kate of their suspicions, and had decided that though she would undoubtedly tell Jon of them if he reappeared in Fowey, this would be preferable to leaving her in ignorance of the possibility.

  Her reception of this was much as they anticipated. She defended Jon hotly, but Petroc perceived the worried look in her eyes when she thought no one observed her.

  *

  Soon Petroc and Nick left to rejoin their ships, and Kate was alone with her anxieties. She could share her worry about Jon's safety with the rest of the family, but not even Morwenna would sympathise when she protested against Petroc and Nick for their suspicions about Jon.

  'They would not say such things without good cause,' Morwenna maintained. 'They are both accustomed to dealing with men. Mayhap there is an explanation we have not thought on,' she added, relenting at the look of distress on Kate's face. 'No doubt Jon will appear soon or send a message and be able to explain it all.'

  'They will not believe what he says,' Kate protested angrily.

  For several weeks they heard little news. Hopton and the Cornish had attempted to pursue the Parliamentarians through Okehampton and to Tavistock. But when the Parliamen
tarians, reinforced from Somerset, had turned and were prepared for battle they withdrew again for Launceston, and concentrated on deploying their limited forces along a fifty mile front. In the south Slanning held Saltash, facing Sir John Northcote and Sir George Chudleigh, James Chudleigh's father, about Plymouth. Mohun was at Liskeard, John Trevanion at Launceston, while Grenvile was in the north, near Stratton. Others were at Bodmin recruiting more men from the posse comitatus.

  Petroc and Nick had completed their own tasks and returned to Launceston in time to discover that James Chudleigh, reinforced and freshly supplied, was marching through North Devon from Torrington after meeting Stamford, recovered from his attack of gout. He brought levies from Barnstaple and Bideford.

  Hopton, leaving the garrisons to guard the river, moved northwards on Saturday May the thirteenth with what troops he could collect from Bodmin and Launceston. They slept that night near North Peterwin, defeated a small party of enemy horse and dragoons the following day, and reached Week St Mary that night. The following day Stamford occupied a high plateau a little to the north of Stratton, while the Royalists gathered at Efford Mill to the west of the town.

  Sir Ralph called a council of war and they considered the position.

  'They have twice our number of men,' Mohun said gloomily. 'The scouts reckon they have near five and a half thousand foot, while we have but two and a half. Added to that they have more powder and guns, and an impregnable position on that hill.'

  'But we outnumber them with horse,' Grenvile said a little impatiently. His own manor at Stow had been cut off by the enemy and he was anxious to attack them.

  'Five hundred to their two hundred,' John Trevanion commented. 'Not much, and the horse will not be of much value to us in this hilly part.'

  'Besides, Sir George Chudleigh may yet return from his foray towards Bodmin,' Mohun added.

  'He took over a thousand of their horse with him, hoping to break up our muster there. Our best hope is to attack them before he can return,' Sir Ralph said firmly. 'The southern approach to the hill is the steepest, for we cannot get round to the east, and would not wish to. The western slope is possible. We will attack in four columns. It was successful at Poison Bridge, and we can converge on the hilltop. Well? Are you with me?'

  'Let us at them without delay,' Grenvile urged, and the others, with varying enthusiasm, supported him.

  'Good.' Hopton wasted no time once he had secured their agreement. 'Godolphin and Basset, take your group northwards and approach from there. Slanning and Trevanion, come in from the west, and Berkeley and Grenvile slightly to the south of them. That is the most possible slope. Lord Mohun and I will approach from the south. Colonel Digby can hold the horse in reserve to the west, for unless the enemy come down from the summit, the horse will be of little use to us.'

  Under cover of darkness the men were deployed, lining the hedges on the planned approach routes. After supping from their rations of cheese and biscuit they curled up to snatch a few hours of sleep before the dawn attack.

  Petroc and Nick joined Slanning in the assault, leaving their horses at the rear. From daybreak until well after noon the fight continued, with the Parliamentarians, their guns spread over the western slope, repulsing the attacks. At about three there was a pause in the fighting, and messengers were seen hastily moving from Hopton's area to those of the other four columns. Slanning spoke to the man and then sent him on his way, turning with a worried look to Petroc who was beside him.

  'Our powder is nearly spent,' he said in a low voice. 'We are to chance all on a general assault without firing until we reach the summit.'

  Petroc whistled in surprise. 'That will shake them,' he commented. 'Let us pray it serves.'

  The word to charge was passed on, though the lack of powder was not revealed to the men. Steadily, gradually gaining in speed even up that steep slope, the Royalists pressed forwards, holding their fire and undeterred by the fire from their enemies.

  Inexorably the four columns progressed, and it was impossible for the Parliamentarians to stem that uphill tide. Gradually the gun emplacements were captured, and only once was there a slight halt to the advance when James Chudleigh charged the column led by Grenvile, causing the commander to lose his footing and fall to the ground. But that did not deter Sir Bevill. Hauled back to his feet by Berkeley, he urged his men on with such determination that they captured the daring James Chudleigh.

  Less than an hour after this final assault had started, the four columns of the Royalists met near the summit of the hill, and rejoiced greatly as they watched the remaining Parliamentarians scuttling away, many injuring themselves as they fled headlong down the steep escarpment to the east. With half as many men, an almost impossible position at the foot of a steep hill, and almost no powder left, at the end of the day the Royalists had lost only eighty men, while they had killed three hundred, taken seventeen hundred prisoners, many of these besides James Chudleigh commanders, and captured guns, powder, money and provisions. They had cause for rejoicing.

  Grenvile remained at Stratton to guard the prisoners, while the rest of the army returned to Launceston. Here they heard that Sir George Chudleigh had retired from Bodmin and was following Stamford to Exeter. They also heard that a force led by Hertford and Prince Maurice, the King's nephew, was approaching westwards, hoping to join with the Cornish army. Judging the Parliamentarians were in no mood to resist, Hopton finally left the Duchy where he had been so successful in rallying the King's supporters, and marched through Devon, reaching Chard and meeting Hertford and Maurice just two and a half weeks after the success at Stratton.

  Chapter 9

  Cornwall was safe for the time being. Although a Parliamentary garrison was left at Plymouth, it was weak and demoralised after the crushing defeat of the army under Stamford at Stratton. The Anscombes began to make plans to return to Saltash, though Mr Anscombe would continue his work of transporting arms from Jersey to Falmouth. Nick and Petroc returned to Fowey when the Cornish army marched away, planning more privateering attacks on the Parliamentary shipping.

  'Did you hear anything of Jon before you left Launceston?' Mistress Anscombe asked, glancing at Kate as she did so.

  'No, though I did ask James Chudleigh,' Petroc said, smiling briefly.

  'James Chudleigh!' Kate exclaimed. 'But how?'

  'He was captured at Stratton,' Nick explained. 'It did not take him long with the Royalists to come round to our point of view.'

  'You mean that he changed sides?' Kate asked, scandalised.

  Petroc laughed. 'You do not approve?' he asked softly, and Kate turned swiftly to him.

  'Indeed not! That is traitorous behaviour!'

  'But he initially favoured the Royalists,' Nick said pacifically. 'As far as I understand it, he went in the first instance to Oxford to offer the King his services, and they were turned down because of doubts about his father's allegiances. He was angry and joined the Parliamentarians. After all, the man is a professional soldier, and could not sit idle.'

  'Then is doubly a traitor,' Kate said firmly, and Petroc eyed her in some amusement.

  'You could not condone that?' he asked, but before she could reply he continued, 'He did not know aught of Peyton, though he could not be expected to remember all of those captured after Sourton Down.'

  'But if your suspicions are right, he would know Jon,' she said triumphantly.

  'Jon denied ever meeting him,' Petroc reminded her, and she looked at him, startled.

  'Yes,' was all she could say to this.

  'I think you have doubts,' Petroc murmured.

  They had been talking quietly to one side while Nick was recounting to the others details of the battles, and Kate had not heard what he had been saying, but then she caught Petroc's name, and turned away from him towards Nick.

  'We captured many colours, but Petroc's feat was the most daring,' Nick was explaining.

  'How?' Morwenna demanded.

  'While we were still fighting below the sum
mit of Stratton Hill. The columns had converged just below the summit, and the Parliament forces were poised above us. Petroc led a small group of men in a sudden dash, and before we or the enemy knew what he was about, he was behind a band of pikemen defending the ground at the top of the hill, and plunged through them from the rear, snatching the colour as he came. They were too startled to resist, and it gave our men heart for just that extra effort that carried us over the edge.'

  They exclaimed in admiration, and Morwenna asked what Petroc would do with the trophy.

  'You do keep it, I suppose?' she added.

  'I shall hang it in the hall at Tremor, and no doubt tell my children stories of how we came to possess it,' Petroc said laughingly, and Kate, to her annoyance, found herself blushing as he glanced swiftly at her.

  *

  Life returned slowly to something approaching normal in the next few weeks. Kate and her mother, with the two maids, returned to Saltash. Mr Anscombe and Robert went back to Falmouth and Nick and Petroc were off on their own business. Kate found Saltash exceedingly tedious and fretted at the lack of news about Jon. In July came news of the Battle of Lansdown, north of Bath, with the loss of the greatly loved leader, Sir Bevill Grenvile. Soon afterwards the Royalists scored their victory over Waller at Roundway Down, and continued their march to Oxford. Royalist successes continued, primarily with the capture of Bristol, but for the Cornish the delight was tempered by the grief at the loss of two more leaders, Nick Slanning and John Trevanion. It was soon after the news of their deaths had arrived that Kate saw Petroc in Saltash. A little hesitantly she offered condolences.

  Petroc looked at her without smiling.

  'Thank you,' he said slowly. 'We all face death when we go into battle, but it is hard with the loss of so good a friend. I wish you could have met him. We had been friends for many years. And John Trevanion will be greatly missed also. His wife's father, John Arundel of Trerise, is to take Nick's place as Governor of Pendennis. I shall be helping him now.'