by Smith, Skye
"Bugger," replied Warwick. "And Hull with a governor that I don't trust out of my sight."
"That is further than I would trust his son. I am convinced he took his own companies of men out there to be slaughtered, but of course, there is no way of proving ... bloody hell. Look what's coming down the Beverly Road." He pointed towards a column of cavalry, a very long column of cavalry. As he did so the wall's guards at the next tower rang the alarm, and a yell went up for all armed men to go to their posts on the walls.
Down below in the streets of the town people began to run about, seemingly at random, but in truth it was organized chaos. Everyone was doing whatever was most important for themselves or their family. They looked across the roofs of the town towards the fortress walls on the other side of the harbour. Men were streaming along them. Unfortunately most of the cannons were on the Humber end tower and pointing out across the great seaway. Those culverins were huge and far too heavy to easily move to cover the inland approaches.
The most frantic activity was by those who lived outside the walls. They had their arms full of kiddies and belongings and were making a mad dash to the gates before they were closed and barred. Due to the speed of the advance cavalry company, the folk almost didn't make it. The Beverly gate was closed and barred with less than a moment to spare.
"You don't think ..." Warwick began but then paused in thought. "Is it possible that the cavalry thought that the plot to take the gates was still on? We locked everyone up, so word that the plot was betrayed may not have reached Beverly."
"Why haven't they raised the draw bridge? Why isn't the garrison shooting at them?" Daniel asked. "Yesterday the Trained Bands were attacked. Surely that was enough of a declaration of Charlie's intent. Christ, the cavalry officers are sitting ducks." The cavalry were pouring into the widening in the road just beyond the draw bridge that crossed the moat, and enough of them were standing on the bridge that it would have been impossible to raise. "If they don't drive them back soon, they will break the bridges chains, and then it will be impossible to raise it."
The widening in the road was now so full of arriving cavalry that the long column became stalled on the road. Some men tried to go around by stepping their horses off the road, but when the hoofs of those horses sank into the mud, they gave up on that idea. Perhaps in frustration, the cavalry now rode around the wall on whatever dry paths there were, and within moments they were setting alight the thatch roofs of the sheds and stables outside the walls.
"What are you doing?" Warwick asked as he watched Daniel pull out his killing pistol, cock the flint, and aim it at one of the cavalry officers. "Don't waste your shot. They are out of range of a pistol." The flint dropped, the spark dropped, the pan flashed, the muzzle spat out smoke and noise, and nothing happened down below. "I told you so."
But then that shot was echoed from all around the walls. No one had given the men with muskets an order to shoot, but hearing Daniels shot made them think that some officer somewhere must have given such an order. Ten shots were followed by fifty and then a hundred. The cavalry retreated from the walls, and there was a jam up of men and horses along the Beverly road, the only way to retreat with the fields so muddy. As soon as they were off the draw bridge, the winches pulled it up.
That afternoon the king's cannons arrived, and the army made camp to the west of Hull, on the other side of the damp fields but not so far away as the village of Anlaby. By late afternoon the cannons were making ranging shots towards the walls. The one question that no one could answer was, "Were the shots on Hull's walls the king's declaration of war?"
* * * * *
For a town under siege, life within the walls hardly changed, but then it was not much of a siege. The harbour was still open, so they were not cut off from supplies and reinforcements. The damp fields were keeping the wall busting cannons too far away to do much damage. The field guns that the king's army would wheel up the roads to bombard the gates were not heavy enough for breaking walls. The army couldn't even dig under the walls because as soon as they dug a hole it would fill with water.
"I can't be tangled up in defending Hull,” Warwick told Teesa over a shared glass of wine. "I am the Lord High Admiral. I have important duties all around this kingdom. This voyage was to fetch back the Providence, not to sit around waiting for an attack."
"But if you leave, Governor Hotham may find an excuse to hand Hull over to the king,” Teesa finished his thought.
"Today he came forth with a plan to sally out in force and drive Charlie's army away. The plan was insulting in its transparency, for all those men would surely be captured and thus leave the walls undefended."
"So you can't leave unless a friend controls Hull."
"Aye, and there is the crux of it. Hotham is a member of parliament and was assigned the governance by the parliament, so I can't depose him out of hand. Besides, who else could I ask to replace him. I don't know any of these locals. At least I know how far I can trust Hotham. Blast the man's duplicity."
"De vijand van mijn vijand is mijn vriend,” Teesa quoted.
"What's that you say girl?"
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend. It's an old Frisian saying from the days when they fought to create the first republic in the Netherlands. What if Hotham was more frightened of Charlie than of parliament? Then would you trust him enough to leave and get on with being an Admiral?"
"Obviously. If Hull's surrender may cost Hotham his head, then he would never surrender."
"Do you still have that man Digby locked up in solitary at the naval bunker?" she asked sweetly.
"Yes, and it will please me greatly to take him with me to London and lock him away in the Tower."
"And he hasn't had a chance to speak with Hotham alone?" She put her finger in the wine and then wet his lips suggestively with it. He liked to be teased. It made him feel young again.
"No,” he moaned while sucking on her finger. The wine was alehouse rubbish but her finger was delightfully naughty.
"Then Digby still thinks that Hotham betrayed Charlie's plot to capture the gates. Why not let him escape and tell that story in the king's camp."
"You little vixen,” he laughed. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Of course. But that can wait for the morning. Will you share my bed tonight?"
"Only to cuddle,” she whispered.
* * * * *
"Stop struggling, those are seaman's knots that bind you. You won't loosen them,” Daniel told Digby. "Once we cast off you can walk the decks freely. That is better than you deserve and better than what will happen to you in the Tower." He pushed him up the gang plank and motioned for some of his men take him below. Teesa's instructions had been that the Hothams, who were now on the quay saying farewell to the Admiral, were to see Digby being boarded but there was to be no chance of signals being exchanged.
For good measure Daniel told his men, "I still say we should have let Hotham hang the bugger. The governor is still angry at not being able to slaughter half of the king's cavalry with his trick at the gates. Parliament would have promoted him to General for sure." He winked at his men.
"Prepare to cast off,” Teesa yelled out from the wheel. "Man the oars. Get that prisoner below. Tell the Admiral that his yacht awaits him." She was having great fun ordering men about. Not that the men needed to be ordered about. It was a small tight ship with a small tight crew, and everything more or less ran itself.
Once Warwick was aboard, and the last words were called back and forth between governor and admiral, the ship slipped out of the harbour. True to his word, Daniel went below and cut Digby loose and brought him out on deck. "The admiral wants to take a closer look at the king's camp before we set sail for London. You may as well take a look yourself."
With just one sail hoisted they glided slowly up the Humber towards Anlaby. "The Band lads did a good job of breaking those dams,” Daniel said as he pointed to a gap in the dike that had allowed the high tides to flood the western pastures.
&
nbsp; "They didn't go far enough,” Teesa said pointing ahead to the next sluice dam. "That last one is still intact. Over the timbers of the dam they could see the king's camp, row on row on row of tents. "Do you think one of our cannon balls could break it?" she said with a pixie grin from the thought of the mischief that would cause in the camp. "The tide is high. It would drench their sleeping rolls."
"I'll go and help the men load a cannon, shall I?" Daniel replied with a grin, but at the sound of musket fire he grabbed her and pulled her down behind the gunnels. One of the crew called out, "We are out of range. All those shots splashed short." Then there was a big splash. Digby had taken the opportunity of everyone ducking down to dive into the Humber.
While some of the men took pot shots at Digby, making sure they missed him, Daniel ran the starboard six pounder out of its gun hatch. It was hard to miss a target as large as a dam from this close, and he didn't and the six pound ball of lead splintered turned the sluice gate into splinters.
"How is our swimmer?" he called out as he and two others reloaded the gun.
"He's taking on water, but he should be able to touch the bottom by now,” called down the lad who had climbed up to the crow’s-nest to keep watch.
The next shot of the gun hardly touched the dam because it went through the opening created by the first shot. "Oye,” the lad called down. "that was hilarious. That ball bounced along through the tents like you wus playin' bowls. It took down the big tent in the middle."
These words had even Warwick climbing the rigging to see over the dike. Sure enough, the great and colorful marquee was leaning, leaning, and then fell. Men were streaming out from under the collapsed canvas. "I'll bet that one ruined Charlie’s breakfast, Danny. Can you do another one like that so I can watch the fun."
They tried again but this time the ball hit the timbers of the dam and half the dam collapsed. "Our swimmer has landed,” the lad called down.
"Excellent,” Warwick called out as he climbed down from the rigging. "Now lets tell that bad news to Hotham so we can head south." He walked towards Daniel to tell him to take one last shot, but Daniel was standing in the rigging with his hailing trumpet and yelling at the drowned rat who was being helped out of the water.
"Tell your king that was a personal gift from Sir John Hotham."
* * * * *
* * * * *
The Pistoleer - Edgehill by Skye Smith Copyright 2013-14
Chapter 10 - Taking Dover Castle, August 1642
The naval base at Chatham was close enough to London that the town received all of the leaflets and pamphlets that told Londoner's the latest news about the ongoing spat between the king and parliament. It was the only good thing that Daniel could think to say about the place. Warwick had made his temporary headquarters here rather than in Deal because the actions against the king were all in the north, whereas the south coast was quite peaceful.
The news was disturbing. Over the past two weeks Baron Strange had been rampaging through Lancashire trying to stop men from joining Parliament's Trained Bands and instead press them into the king's service under the authority of the king's Commission of Array. There had even been fighting in the streets of Manchester. The Earl of Essex had been confirmed as the Captain General of Parliament's army and the Earl of Bedford had been named Lord General of Horse. Parliament was now 'officially' raising an army.
The Earl of Holland was still running about being the diplomat and had gone to Beverly to offer the king the terms of peace from parliament, but he had returned to London empty handed. Once his brother had failed at peace, the Earl of Warwick was quick to send a squadron of ships carrying Colonel Meldrum and 1,500 of London's bandsmen to Hull. Not only were the Londoners better trained and better equipped, but they were led by a trustworthy man, and that had made all the difference at Hull. Charlie abandoned his siege.
"Well it never was much of a siege anyway,” Daniel told the naval officers he was dining with. "How can you run a siege if you can't completely cut the town off? He was a fool to begin it."
"Well we will soon find out if the Admiral decides to lay siege to Dover castle,” one of the officers mentioned in a soft voice.
Daniel groaned. Dover was the biggest, strongest, most awe inspiring fortress he had ever seen. How many lives will be ruined in an attempt to take it. Memories of such sieges in the Netherlands still haunted him. "So is that why I must take you lot on a sail around Dover. You've been sent to update the charts."
No matter how many times he told Warwick that he had to return to his village to organize their move to Bermuda, and no matter how many times Warwick agreed, there was always one last urgent task to be done before he would give his leave. This was the latest 'last' task. Take these map makers aboard the Swift and show them around Dover from land and from the sea. He couldn't fault Warwick’s choice of him or his ship. This spring he had lived in Dover in order to spy on the shipping, back when the Royal family had been in residence at the castle.
If he must take these men then he would, but he would make sure that the message that they took back to Warwick was that it wasn't even worth attempting to lay siege to Dover. "I was in Dover before the king arrived this spring,” Daniel told them. "Do you know how large the garrison was that held the castle. Eighty men, and that included the twenty that ran the prison lockup and took care of the prisoners. That is how secure it is. Completely unassailable."
* * * * *
"I told you so,” Daniel told the two exhausted looking navy men. They were covered in white dust from being led around the pathways of the cliffs of Dover by the innkeep of the Drake Inn where they were staying. "There is no way of taking the fortress except by starving it out. That would take years." He nudged Peter, the innkeep, "Didn't I tell them?"
"Well, when it does fall I want to be there,” Peter told them. "They killed my Da' up there and I want to help pull the place down." The navy men didn't bother correcting him. Dover fortress would never be pulled down. It was too useful to the navy as a bastion of last resort.
The navy men continued their discussion. "The science of artillery has improved since the last time the fortress was rebuilt, both in force and in range. We found some places where temporary bastions could be set up, and from those some big guns could pound at the fortress walls. It would take perhaps a month or two to set up the bastions and create a breach, but it can be done."
Daniel groaned. That was the same thing the Dutch artillery engineers had said about Breda before a third of the Dutch army were wiped out trying to take that fortress. He had been clambering around the castle for a week with these men, and now instead of reporting to Warwick that it was hopeless, they were going to report the opposite. From the sea it was out of the question because of the cliffs, but these men were now planning a land based assault, which would place culverins on the high points of land around the castle.
"You told us that the garrison may be as few as eighty," one of the men said, but our count puts it closer to forty.
"That's because they closed down the prison when the Royals were staying there,” Peter told them. "Couldn't have sickness and torture being witnessed by the princesses now could they? Even though that is how they squeeze the taxes out of us poor sods so as to pay for their silk gowns. God rot the royals and all their aristo parasites."
"The good news is that we need only a few more days to confirm our plans and then we can present them to the Admiral."
Daniel groaned as they went off to bathe.
"What’s up mate?" Peter asked him.
"The fools are going to recommend a siege. Say goodbye to your nice town. It will be ground into dust by a thousand marching boots."
"I was looking forward to it,” Peter replied. "Think of the business, the profits. The officers will stay at my inn, and afterwards I will be able to retire."
"They will requisition your inn and you will see nowt," Daniel told him. "I told you to make them believe it was impossible. I warned you."
&nbs
p; "But it's not impossible,” Peter told him. "I used to scale the sea cliff and the wall to visit my father when he was held prisoner up there. I told you that."
"Even if I believe you, that is one man doing the scaling, not an army. The guards didn't spot you, but they would spot an army."
"Not on the sea side. At night the guards sit in the towers and watch the land side and the road. What did they say their count was. Forty. Even if it was sixty that is only twenty men a watch. The ring of the castle wall is what, a mile, and there isn't even a real wall on the cliff side. Facing the sea the only walls are the battlements to protect each gun emplacement, but there is no continuous wall. The only wall I had to climb to visit my Da' was the wall around the compound where the prisoners were kept."
"So how did you scale the cliff. The chalk turns to dust under your boot. If you start sliding there is nothing to hold onto, no brush, no outcropping. There is nothing solid … nothing."
"Spring boards."
"You used a spring? Oh you're having me on,” Daniel laughed at his own gullibility. "I should have known."
"Not a spring so much as a board. You take a curved barrel stave just longer than your boot and you lash it to the boot so that you can walk on it. As you climb the cliff you use a knife to score out a slot in the limestone that you can push the toe end of the board into. The curve of the stave keeps you leaning into the cliff. It's like climbing a step ladder but the steps are moving up with you one at a time."
"And how many times did you break your neck?. All you have to do is bend backwards away from the cliff and you would have nothing to stop you from falling."
"That is why you climb up the crevasses in the cliff face,” Peter told him. "The face may look flat from a distance, but it has long vertical gouges in it. You climb up those gouges. Sort of like climbing up a chimney except that one side is open."