The King's Exile (Thomas Hill Trilogy 2) (31 page)

Delighted to be doing something positive, Charles made arrangements for the transfer of five hundred men to his command in the north and issued detailed orders to his captains for their deployment. When he called at the Lytes’ house to tell Mary of his new commission, he was met by Thomas.

‘Thomas, better news at last,’ he said. ‘An end to the foreplay
and on with the real thing. The sooner we send the insolent beggars packing, the sooner you’ll be home.’

‘In that case, kindly waste no time in doing so,’ replied Thomas with a weak smile, and went to fetch Mary.

‘Charles, this is a pleasant surprise. We imagined you were occupied with our visitors in the south. Do you bring news from there?’ she asked.

‘In part, I do. I had hoped also to speak to Adam.’

‘He will be back from the mill soon. What news do you bring?’

When Charles had told her, Mary did not share his enthusiasm. ‘You’re not a proper soldier, Charles,’ she pointed out. ‘Why has Willoughby asked you to do this?’

‘Matter of trust, I suppose. No danger of my changing sides.’ He grinned. ‘And I have two swords, of course.’

‘I really cannot see what difference that makes. Just don’t do anything foolish.’

‘Foolish? Me? Come now, my dear, surely you’re thinking of someone else.’

Mary was spared having to respond by the arrival of Adam. ‘There you are, brother. Captain Carrington has come to give us news.’

‘Have you been given a commission, Charles?’

‘I have. Willoughby has asked me to organize defences around Holetown and Speightstown. We think it likely that Ayscue will launch assaults in the north as well as on Bridgetown. I have command of five hundred men for the purpose.’

Mary interrupted. ‘Has there been no progress towards a peaceful resolution? We have been hoping for better news.’

‘I fear not, and Ayscue is running out of time. He will have to attack soon or go home empty-handed.’

‘That would not endear him to Cromwell.’

‘No indeed. So we are expecting something to happen.’

‘And how may I help, Charles?’ asked Adam.

‘I had thought that now you have men expertly trained and hardened to battle, you might care to augment our force. With you in command, of course.’

‘Does one skirmish with a rabble of runaways constitute battle-hardening?’

‘Certainly it does. It’s more fighting than most of our men have seen. I do not ask for your slaves – you will need them to keep the estate working – but your indentured men would be useful. We shall need all the bodies we can find.’

‘Of course we will do as you ask. Just tell us what you want us to do.’

An hour later, Charles had outlined his plan and asked his new commander to bring his platoon to Six Mens Bay, just north of Speightstown, the following day. There it would be deployed in defensive positions. They would all have to come prepared to spend some days in the open and to bring their own rations. Five hundred men reliant upon the goodwill of the local people for food and water would be quite enough. Anyone who could should fend for himself.

‘Well,’ said Mary when Charles had left, ‘runaway slaves and now Roundheads. Do look out for Viking longboats, won’t you.’

‘Mary, we could hardly refuse him. The island’s in danger. What would you have us do?’

‘It is hardly up to me, brother, but something not involving swords and muskets would be an improvement.’

‘And how, pray, should we do that? Welcome Ayscue with open arms and take an oath of loyalty to Cromwell?’

‘Would that be so terrible a thing? And as you’ve never sworn the oath to the king, I doubt you’d have to swear one to Cromwell.’

Adam laughed. ‘Odd, isn’t it, that the charming Gibbes brothers had to swear but Charles and I were never asked to? Perhaps Walrond didn’t care about us.’

‘Perhaps, or perhaps he wasn’t as even-handed as he liked to make out. Well, off you go then, both of you. Thomas and Patrick and I will manage perfectly well. There are no runaways left in the woods, so unless we’re attacked by a troop of monkeys with loaded muskets we shall be quite safe.’

For the first time since Adam had returned, Thomas spoke. ‘Mary, I should like to accompany Adam.’

Mary was astonished. ‘Really, Thomas? What on earth for?’

‘I cannot sit here any longer and do nothing or I shall lose my wits.’

‘Are you willing to fight?’ asked Charles.

‘Only if there is no alternative. Could I not help with the administration – supplies, orders, that sort of thing?’

Charles pondered for a moment. ‘Why not? I shall need a quartermaster, Thomas, and it might as well be you. Consider yourself appointed.’

FOR SEVERAL DAYS
neither the garrisons in the south nor Charles’s men in the north had much to do but watch and wait. Charles divided his forces into five companies, each charged with defending one of the vulnerable beaches. While he set up his camp at Goding’s Bay, Adam and Thomas took their platoon of twenty-five men, now named white platoon, north to Six Mens Bay to join a company led by a Captain Brown. Adam put Thomas in charge of all matters administrative – food, water, shelter, casualties and settlement of the occasional dispute. Thomas had arranged for any casualties to be taken to the Serpent Inn.

Six Mens was the most likely landing place. The seabed was free of rocks for fifty yards out and erosion of the sand meant that the water was deep enough for a longboat to approach within five or six yards of the shore. The skirmishers had used it before and Charles was sure they would use it again rather than risk a landing at a place they did not know.

The men passed their days in musket practice and their nights
sleeping among the palms and casuarinas which fringed the beach. On Thomas’s advice, they avoided the manchineels. Wagers were made on which of them could climb the palms quickest to gather coconuts for their fruit and water, and fish were caught from an outcrop of rock at the northern end of the bay. Local villagers brought them bread and meat. Lookouts were posted day and night and no boat could approach without being seen long before it was within musket range. Even at night the sea was lit by the moon. Calm and shadowless, it afforded no cover for a longboat.

Charles made daily inspections of the beaches, checking the defences built of rocks and driftwood, recommending improvements and enquiring about the troops’ morale. If they had a concern it was that the waiting would dull the men’s spirits.

Eight days before Christmas, they met as usual at the southern end of Six Mens Bay. ‘White platoon is ready,’ reported Adam, ‘but no sign of the enemy again today, Charles. Do you think he’s heard of our reputation and taken fright?’

‘Alas, no. He’s overdue for his rendezvous and he’ll be here soon, mark my words.’

‘I do hope so. I worry for Mary.’

‘As would I for my sister. But she’s a capable lady and Patrick is with her. She’ll come to no harm.’

‘Any news from Willoughby?’

‘Routine reports only.’

The reports that very evening, however, were anything but routine. About an hour before dark, a breathless rider arrived at their camp, where Charles was sharing a bottle with them. He brought news from Lord Willoughby. ‘There has been an attack, Mr Carrington. About six hundred men led by Colonel Alleyne, on the harbour at Bridgetown. They set fire to warehouses and
vessels and disabled twenty cannon. There was much damage to property. Colonel Alleyne himself was killed.’

‘Was he now? Casualties?’

‘Fifty of our men dead, sir, and a hundred taken prisoner.’

‘Good God, were they all asleep? How could they take a hundred prisoners? And how did they get into the harbour in the first place? Were the batteries out of action?’

‘There was rain this morning, sir. Visibility was poor. They came in under its cover. By the time they were seen, it was too late to prevent them landing. They were trained men who knew their business.’

‘Of course they were. What did we expect, a rabble of pirates? Did we take any prisoners?’

‘We did, sir. Twenty, I believe. Some were Scots.’

‘Perfidious Celts taken at Dunbar, I don’t doubt, and now Cromwell’s men. It sounds like a disaster. But it’s done now. What would Lord Willoughby have me do?’

‘He asks that you send two hundred men to replace his losses. He expects another attack directly.’

Charles was not at all sure that reducing his force by two hundred was a good idea, but if Willoughby wanted it he had no choice. ‘Tell Lord Willoughby that I will send two hundred men under the command of Captain Skeete at dawn tomorrow. It’s too late to march today.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Having summoned Captain Skeete and given him his orders, Charles dragged Thomas and Adam to the Serpent for dinner. He was fuming. The garrison commander should be drawn and quartered. Fifty dead, a hundred captured and twenty cannon destroyed.

‘Ye gods,’ he thundered, ‘what chance of defending the island have we if that is the best we can do?’

Despite Thomas’s urging him to calm down and consider how best to defend the north rather than worry about the south, Charles was beside himself. ‘Michel de Montaigne, a great French philosopher, said that not being able to govern events, he governed himself,’ Thomas told him.

‘I care not a fig for your Frenchman. They might as well hoist a flag of surrender now and be done with it.’ With a pint of claret inside him, it took a long time for Charles to regain his temper.

The first sight of longboats came at dawn the next morning when Captain Brown’s watchmen spotted twenty of them about a quarter of a mile out and heading for the beach. A messenger was despatched to Charles, who replied that he would bring fifty men to Six Mens Bay immediately.

At the bay Captain Brown spread his force out among the trees along the length of the beach. Adam and Thomas waited with white platoon at its southern end and watched as the longboats approached.

‘I see no Vikings, Adam,’ said Thomas, ‘but it’s a large force. Approaching two hundred.’

‘About that. How long before they land, do you suppose?’

‘Ten minutes, no more.’

‘Right. We mustn’t let Charles down. Let’s hope he arrives in time to see us in action.’

Watching the boats approach the bay, Thomas thought again of the only other battle he had witnessed. There he had been with the king and never in real danger. Here things would be different. He would certainly not be encrypting messages.

As soon as the leading boats were within musket range, a few lightly armed infantrymen jumped out into water barely as high as their waists. Captain Brown’s men held their fire, allowing the first of them to wade to the beach. The captain wanted to keep his men hidden for as long as he could. As expected, the light infantrymen formed up on the sand to cover their more heavily armed colleagues.

The moment they did so, he gave the order to fire. Muskets flashed all along the tree line and perhaps a quarter of the enemy’s front line fell. Ignoring the screams of the wounded, the remainder pressed on for the shore, their muskets held over their heads, and, once there, they formed a line. They returned fire but their targets were among the trees and hard to see.

While the attackers were reloading, the defenders fired another volley. Again, several men went down but the volley was far from decisive. By this time the boats were grounded in shallow water and more armoured troops were reaching the shore. They spread out in a double rank and sent their first volley into the trees. The front rank then ran a few paces up the beach and dropped to one knee to reload. The second rank fired over their heads. Two ranks of less than a hundred men each did not reach right along the bay, so they had to take some fire from left and right and their progress was impeded by the seawater that had splashed their muskets and dampened their charges. One in ten misfired and had to be recharged and reloaded before firing. But these were highly trained infantry, their breastplates proof against musket shot, and there was not a hint of panic. With dead and wounded all around them, they maintained their order and kept their line while the advance guard withdrew to protect their means of escape.

At the southern end of the bay Adam and Thomas had been
watching and waiting. Judging the moment to be right, Adam ordered a volley of musket fire and then led white platoon in a headlong charge across the sand. Thomas, ignoring strict instructions not to put himself in danger, charged with them, intending to do what he could to help the wounded.

At the northern end Captain Brown also led a charge. The double attack by screaming swordsmen on both flanks took the enemy by surprise. Some turned to meet the threat and three swordsmen fell before they reached the line, but Adam had impressed upon their men the need for speed over the ground. Keeping to the firmer sand near the water’s edge, they were soon among the invaders.

In a matter of seconds, the battle changed. Lines of infantry firing at each other from a distance were replaced by slashing, thrusting swordsmen, each one intent upon hacking off an arm or piercing a throat. In the mêlée Adam saw one of his men make a clean kill with a thrust to the heart, only to have his knees cut from under him and his exposed neck severed from behind. The man’s blood stained the sand and splattered his killer. The defenders’ attack was fast and brutal, yet the rigid discipline of men trained and hardened in Cromwell’s army proved up to it. After the initial impetus of their charge, white platoon on one flank and Captain Brown’s platoon on the other found their advance blocked.