Authors: Ron Pearse
Tags: #england, #historical, #18th century, #queen anne, #chambermaid, #duke of marlborough, #abigail masham, #john churchill, #war against france
Godolphin
shifted in his seat. He said: "Austria would get Flanders as a
reward for their support, much good may it do them."
"Gibraltar will be very useful to us,
uncle, would you not say? Especially, in time
of war." Spencer thought he had made a
profound remark but his uncle said nothing so he added: "The
Mediterranean, uncle. Just think! It will become an extension of
the English Channel. No ship to enter or leave without our
say-so."
Godolphin put
on a bleak expression saying in reproach:
"That sort of
talk Charles was the buzz of the court of Louis prior to this war,
and see where it has landed him. Who knows what power will arise
and challenge England - with more war."
His words
silenced Spencer, but only for a moment. Changing the subject he
said: "I heard the Thames had frozen over, uncle. That must have
been jolly."
Godolphin said
wearily: "That was months ago Charles. It was a bleak time for the
ferrymen."
Spencer had
signalled for more coffee and examining his fob-clock said: "I have
asked someone to drop by uncle. Here he is." He rose from the chair
and gestured towards the door and a middle-aged man returned his
wave approaching their table and reaching it a little out of
breath. He greeted Spencer: "My lord, Charles. It is good to see
you," then noticing his companion and not waiting for an
introduction, added:
"And you, my
lord. How do you do!"
Godolphin
nodded his head stiffly, simply saying: "Maynwaring!"
The gentleman
did not appear to be put out. He was accustomed to such civilities
as between members of the Commons and the Lords. Yet it was
Godolphin who appeared to feel awkward, perhaps out of guilt in
that both of them were acquainted with the Duchess of Marlborough,
Maynwaring being her personal private secretary. Spencer had come
to appreciate this man's skills in things parliamentarian and
sensing his uncle's coolness towards the MP, told his uncle:
"Mr Maynwaring
has composed a ballad, uncle. It tells of dark deeds at the palace.
It's the talk of London."
Godolphin
without looking at Maynwaring said: "As comptroller of imprests,
Maynwaring, I would have thought you had more serious work. What
are these dark deeds at the palace?"
It was a
suspicious remark and Maynwaring said to Spencer, making eye
movements towards Godolphin: "I did not realise, my lord; his
lordship being so near her majesty."
Spencer
however wanted his fun, saying: "Nonsense Arthur!" Then addressing
Godolphin, added: "You'll love it uncle, especially the rendition
of it by Mrs Danvers. You are in for a treat. Or should I say a
tweet."
Both
Maynwaring and Spencer guffawed at this whereas Godolphin ever
suspicious remained aloof, remarking obliquely: "Poor woman! She
lost out to that Abigail creature."
Maynwaring
said to Godolphin: "Precisely, my lord. Now she can get her own
back." After this he rose and excusing himself strode towards the
counter. In the meantime a second woman had joined the
serving-maid. It was to her Maynwaring headed. As he spoke,
Godolphin murmured:
"This is my last visit to the Kit-Cat. I
came here to escape
the
tittle-tattle of females."
Spencer tried
to cheer him up with the words: "She is a performer, uncle, not a
client. Rest easy!" His eye catches Maynwaring signalling and both
men hear him calling the assembly:
"Gentlemen! Gentlemen,
I pray you. Give me a hearing."
There is some
small diminution of noise so Spencer walks towards him to stand by
his side. He cups his hands and his rather more penetrating voice
calls: "Come now gentlemen; come now lads. Pray silence."
A lull gradually comes over the assembly
and quickly Maynwaring declaims: "Mistress Danvers has kindly
consented to recite the Ballad of St James as seen in the Examiner.
Pray give the dame an audience.
” She begins to recite from memory:
"When as Queen Anne of gwate we-noun."
Titters from the audience. "Gwate Bwitain's sceptuh swayed." More
titters. "Waised to a pwoud degwee, she did bwing," A loud guffaw
among the open laughter. "a wuddy chambuh-maid. Oh Abigail! Faw
that was she, who w
ubbed
and scwubbed wight well."
Now there were
tumultuous guffaws, but Danvers bravely carried on:
"She so
impwessed the woyal heart, but thereby hangs a tale. However faw
sweet service done and causes of gwate weight. Her woyal mistwess
made her, oh! A minister of State."
She could scarcely be heard for
ther
e was bedlam. Nobody
noticed a man leaving the room. Or another taking up station by the
counter. The first man reappeared and nods to the other who removes
his hand from inside his long army-style jacket. Belle Danvers
continues bravely to recite:
"Huh secretewy she was not because she
could not wite, but she had.." Her voice was drowned out by an
explosion which reverberated in the confined space. Smoke billowed
around as a voice barked: "Stay where you are! Nobody move." There
was a crash and Spencer having retaken his seat noticed Danvers
having fallen to the ground, in a faint. Mainwaring moved to her
bravely ignoring the man with the pisto
l, who shouted: "Leave her be!"
Then as the
smoke cleared everybody's eyes are riveted to the pistol. The man
holding it shouted: "It's your moneybags we want, sirrahs. Deliver
your purses and you won't get hurt. Into Harry's sack!” Harry is a
man armed with a cutlass in one hand and holds a gray hemp sack who
goes to each of the long tables to collect their valuables.
Maynwaring,
busy with the fallen Danvers, ignored him and Harry shouted to the
gunman: "Dick, show him the other barrel." In answer, Dick yelled:
"There's a ball up there and there'll be one in your head if you
don't cough up."
Harry called
over for good measure: "He's a crack shot, as the Frenchies found
out to their cost. Get your purses out, sirrahs, or, so help me
God, I'll blow your brains out."
Belle Danvers had come round and
Maynwaring helped her into a seat. Dick yelled at her: "You did
well, mistwess. Ho
w
about a wepeat performance." Evidently the villain had been one of
the audience, but nobody laughed at his rendition.
Harry's eyes
darted all around the room watching for any untoward movement. He
was clearly nervous as the pistol shook in his right hand and once
he steadied it with his left. His stare focussed on Godolphin's
table set apart from the rest and as his accomplice, finished
collecting from the two long tables, he yelled:
"Over there
Dick, where I'm pointing," and Dick duly went over to be greeted by
Spencer with reproof: "Is this the way to serve your country sir?
Shouldn't you be lifting French purses?"
"Shut up, damn
your eyes. Put your purse in the sack. Quick about it!"
Dick followed
Harry's words with: “That's it, shut your cakehole or I'll blast
you to kingdom come. Look in his waistcoat, Harry." This last order
to rummage Godolphin's pockets from which Harry took a sheet of
paper who threw it away yelling:
"Specie, damn
you, specie. None of your bits of paper. Your purse, sir, or I'll
cut your heart out." Godolphin complies grimly.
Dick called
out: "The last table Harry, and hurry. Then we can scram."
Harry walked
over gingerly, warily and something about the man sitting there at
the table provokes the pistol toting Dick to come closer. He eyes
his military looking coat with suspicion and for a moment both
hesitate. Dick shouted:
"Where's your
purse sirrah?"
The military looking man sits with his
hands below the table. Dick stays at a distance covering the whole
room as Harry approached with his sack and shouted: "Did you hear
me, sir
rah. Your purse,
or your life."
The man still
did not move and Harry shouted:
"Give it to
him, Dick!" But Dick has to come closer as he knows the inaccuracy
of pistols, and if he shoots, it must hit, so he approaches the
table though conscious he is vulnerable takes a quick look
around.
At that moment
the man with the military coat lifts the table and using it as a
shield advances on Dick, who fired. The ball glances off the table,
and the man throws the table at Dick, who is now disarmed.
The military man draws his own
cutlass. Harry shouts in
vain:
"Reload Dick,
damn you!" But the call is in vain because someone kicks the pistol
away while several clients leap at him.
The military
man yelled to Harry: "Now sirrah! It's you and me. A fair fight."
He lunges towards Harry who retreats straight into the arms of
Spencer who pinions his arms. Harry, unable to defend himself
screams:
"Don't, don't,
sir. Look, I'm unarmed."
The military
man shouts: "That didn't seem to worry you till now." But though
still wary, he makes no move to attack. Harry shouted at him:
"Who are you,
sir? Your face looks familiar."
"Blackadder,
sir. Colonel Blackadder, at your service."
Taking
advantage of the momentary shock at this news Harry twisted himself
out of Spencer's grasp and flashing his cutlass in slashing strokes
soon had a space around him. As he cut the air in swathes, bits of
wood flew off chairs as bystanders retreated. Blackadder was the
only one who approached him yelling out his challenge:
"You want a
fencing lesson, sir!"
Harry had his
back against a window. His companion had been immobilised and could
offer no help. Blackadder approached with his own weapon at the
lunge position and ready for anything. He neared Harry and the
bystanders let out a gasp as he barked:
"A fencing
lesson, sir, which will be your last. First, we shall remove this
insignia off your coat." With a deft stroke Blackadder cut off a
shoulder flap, saying: "From the uniform you have disgraced."
Harry was
petrified by now as he realised he was at the mercy of a master
swordsman. Defiantly he yelled:
"You'll have to kill me, sir. I'll not be
taken a
live. What have I
got to expect? A flogging of fifteen hundred lashes. I'm as good as
dead."
So saying he
swiped the air jumping to his left into free space, shouting: "Why
didna you stay in Scotland, where you belong."
Blackadder, cooly remo
ving a button from Harry's coat with a
deft twist of his cutlass, riposted: "Because you Sassenachs insist
we Scots join you. You cannot fight your own battles - on your
own."
Spencer shot a
quick glance at Godolphin on hearing the colonel's retort. Union
with Scotland was just two years old.
Harry
insisted: "Not me. I always gave Highlanders a wide berth."
Blackadder
slashed twice and two cuts across Harry's coat made it clear, it
was only a matter of time and Harry tried to parry his opponent's
cutlass with strong movements, breathing hard. He hits at the
colonel's cutlass and then the colonel tiring of the play, forces
Harry's cutlass back, slides the blade along its length, gives a
deft flick and the exhausted villain's cutlass flies into the air,
landing on the wooden floor, hilt uppermost, the upright blade
waving gently to and fro.
"I'll give you
a chance to surrender, sir. Raise your arms and you live. Or take
the cutlass and die."
Suddenly
living seemed the preferred option and Harry slowly raised his
arms. Spencer was at the colonel's side shouting: "Well done,
colonel," and Blackadder twisted towards the speaker until he heard
a bystander shout:
"Look out,
colonel!"
Harry had
treacherously seized his weapon and lunged at Blackadder but the
old campaigner was still on guard and parried the blow. Choosing
his spot, he runs Harry through the throat. The cutlass blade
appears from the back of Harry's neck. In an instant he withdraws
to escape the fountain of blood as Harry crashed to the floor to
lay there momentarily writhing before the body is still.
A bystander
shouts: "Was that necessary, sir. See, Mistress Belle has fainted
again. And none of us are feeling very well."
Blackadder
says, truculently: "And who may you be?"
"Tonson,
colonel. At your service. I'm the proprietor of the Kit-Cat Club.
Who's to pay for these splintered tables and chairs?"
"Why do you
allow such riff-raff in, Mr Tonson? Methought it were for Whigs,
for Parliamentarians."
Tonson said: "Military men are honorary
memb
ers, sir, just like
yourself."
Blackadder
suddenly cast around him, asking: "Where is the other scoundrel?"
To Spencer who was helping to bind the man's wrists, he said:
"Good work, sir." He holds out his hand
saying: "Blackadder, colonel of the Scottis
h Highlanders Brigade."
"Sp
encer, colonel, your servant," said the other as Godolphin
approached offering his hand: "Godolphin, Colonel Blackadder. Your
servant, sir."
Blackadder now
went over to the prone figure of Dick tied to a bench and stood
over him, barking: "Your accomplice is dead sir, and you will be if
you do not answer my questions." He turned to Tonson: "Send for a
constable, sir. I beg you."
As Tonson gave
orders to a serving man, Blackadder stood over the prisoner still
looking threatening which provoked Maynwaring to protest:
"He's a
prisoner, sir, as you can see. You would not harm an unarmed
man!"
"And who may
you be, sir?" said the colonel somewhat taken aback.