The King's General (36 page)

"Wentworth has been caught napping," Richard had scribbled on a torn sheet of paper, "which is exactly what I feared would happen. What might have been a small reverse is likely to turn into disaster, if a general order is given to retreat. I propose riding forthwith to the prince's council and offering my services. Unless they appoint a supreme commander to take over Wentworth's rabble, we shall have Fairfax and Cromwell across the Tamar."

Mary need not have worried after all. Sir Richard Grenvile had passed but a single night under her roof, and not the week that she had dreaded....

I rose that morning with a heavy heart and, going downstairs to the gallery, found Alice in tears, for she knew that Peter would be foremost in the fighting when the moment came. My brother-in-law looked grave and departed at midday, also bound for Launceston, to discover what help might be needed from the landowners and gentry in the possibility of invasion. John, with Frank Penrose, set forth to warn the tenants on the estate that once again their services might be needed, and the day was wretchedly reminiscent ofthat other day in August, nearly eighteen months before.

But now it was not midsummer, but midwinter. And there was no strong Cornish army to lure the rebels to a trap, with another royalist army marching in the rear.

Our men stood alone--with His Majesty three hundred miles away or more, and General Fairfax was a very different leader from the Earl of Essex. He would walk into no trap, but if he came would cross the Tamar with a certainty. ip the afternoon Elizabeth from Coombe came to join us, her husband having gone, and told us that the rumour ran in Fowey that the siege of Plymouth had been raised, and Digby's troops, along with Wentworth's, were retreating fast to the Tamar bridges.

We sat before the mouldering fire in the gallery, a little group of wretched women, and I stared at that same branch of ash that had burnt so brightly the preceding night, when our men were here with us, and was now a blackened log amongst the ashes.

We had faced invasion before, had endured the brief horrors of enemy occupation, but we had never known defeat. Alice and Mary were talking of the children, the necessity this time of husbanding supplies beneath the floor boards of the rooms, as though a siege were all that was before us. But I said nothing, only stared into the fire.

And I wondered who would suffer most, the men who died swiftly in battle, or those who would remain to face imprisonment and torture. I knew then that I would rather Richard fought and died than stayed to fall into the hands of Parliament. It did not bear much thinking, what they would do to Skellum Grenvile if they caught him.

"The King will march West, of course," Elizabeth was saying. "He could not leave Cornwall in the lurch. They say he is raising a great body of men in Oxfordshire this moment. When the thaw breaks "

"Our defences will withstand the rebels," Joan said. "John was talking to a man in lywardreath. Much has been accomplished since last time. They say we have a new musket--with a longer barrel--I do not know exactly, but the rebels will not face it, so John says...."

'They have no money," said Mary. "Jonathan tells me the Parliament is desperate for money. In London the people are starving. They have no bread. The Parliament are bound to seek terms from the King, for they will be unable to continue the war. when the spring comes..."

I wanted to put my fingers in my ears and muffle the sound of their voices. On and on, one against the other, the old false tales that had been told so often. It cannot go °n-... They must give in.... They are worse off than we.... When the thaw breaks, when the spring comes... And suddenly I saw Elizabeth look towards me.

She had less reserve than Alice, and I did not know her so well.

"What does Sir Richard Grenvile say?" she asked. "You must hear everything of what goes on. Will he attack and drive the rebels back to Dorset?"

Her ignorance and theirs was so supreme, I had not the heart nor the will to enlighten her.

"Attack?" I said. "With what force do you suggest that he attack?"

"Why, with those at his disposal," she answered. "We have many able-bodied men in Cornwall."

I thought of the sullen bands I had seen sulking in the square at Launceston and the handful of brawny fellows in the fields below Werrington, wearing the Grenvile shield on their shoulders.

"A little force of pressed men," I said, "and volunteers, against some fifty thousand men, trained soldiers?"

"But man for man we are superior," urged Elizabeth. "Everyone says that. The rebels are well equipped, no doubt, but when our fellows meet them face to face in fair fight, in open country "

"Have you not heard," I said softly, "of Cromwell and the new model army? Do you not realise that never, in England, until now, has there been raised an army like it?"

They stared at me, nonplussed, and Elizabeth, shrugging her shoulders, said I had greatly altered since the year before and was now become defeatist.

"If we all talked in that fashion," she said, "we would have been beaten long ago. I suppose you have caught it from Sir Richard .I do not wonder that he is unpopular."

Alice looked embarrassed, and I saw Mary press Elizabeth with her foot.

"Don't worry," I said. "I know his faults far better than you all. But I think if the council of the prince would only listen to him this time, we might save Cornwall from invasion."

That evening, on going to my room, I looked out on the weather and saw that the night was clear and the stars were shining. There would be no more snow, not yet awhile. I called Matty to me and told her my resolve. This was to follow Richard back to Werrington, if transport could be gotten for me at Tywardreath, and to set forth at; noon the following day, passing the night at Bodmin, and so to Werrington the day after. By doing this I would disobey his last instructions, but I had, in my heart, a premonition that unless I saw him now I would never see him more. What I thought, what I feared, I cannot tell. But it came to me that he might fall in battle and that by; following him I would be with him at the last.

The next morning was fine, as I expected, and I rose early and went down to; breakfast and informed the Rashleigh family of my plan. They one and all begged me to remain, saying it was folly to travel the roads at such a season, but I was firm; and at length John Rashleigh, dear, faithful friend, arranged matters for me and accompanied me as far as Bodmin.

It was bitter cold upon the moors, and I had little stomach for my journey as, with, Matty at my side, I left the hostelry at Bodmin at daybreak. The long road toi Launceston stretched before us, bleak and dreary, with great snowdrifts on either side of us, and one false step of our horses would send the litter to destruction. Although; we were wrapped about with blankets, the nipping, nagging wind penetrated the! curtains, freezing our faces, and when we halted at Five Lanes for hot soup and winef to warm us, I had half a mind to go no farther, but find lodging for the night at| Altarnun. The man at the inn, though, put an end to my hesitation. ^ "We have had soldiers here these past two days," he said, "deserters from the an^yl before Plymouth. Some of Sir John Digby's men. They were making for their horne S| in west Cornwall. They were not going to stay on the Tamar banks to be butchered, ' " they told me."

"What news had they?" I asked, my heart heavy.

"Nothing good," he answered. "Confusion everywhere. Orders and counterorders.

Sir Richard Grenvile was down on Tamar-side, inspecting bridges, giving instructions to blow them when the need arose, and a colonel of foot refused to take the order, saying he would obey none other than Sir John Digby. What is to become of us if the generals start fighting amongst themselves?"

I felt sick and turned away. There would be no biding for me this night at Altarnun.

I must reach Werrington by nightfall.

On then, across the snow-covered moors, wind-swept and desolate, and every now and then we would pass straggling figures making for the west, their apparel proclaiming to the world that once they were King's men, but now deserters. They were blue from cold and hunger, and yet they wore a brazen, sullen look, as though they cared no longer what became of them, and some of them shouted as we passed, "To hell with the war, we're going home," and shook their fists at my litter, jeering, "You're driving to the devil."

The short winter afternoon closed in, and by the time we came to Launceston and turned out of the town to St. Stephens it was grown pitch-dark and snowing once again. An hour or so later I would have been snowbound on the road, with nothing but waste moorland on either side of me. At last we came to Werrington, which I had not thought to see again, and when the startled sentry at the gates recognised me and let the horses pass through the park, I thought that even he, a Grenvile man, had lost his look of certainty and pride and would become, granted ill fortune, no better than the deserters on the road.

We drew up into the cobbled court, and an officer came forth whose face was new to me. His expression was blank when I gave him my name, and he told me that the general was in conference and could not be disturbed. I thought that Jack might help me and asked, therefore, if Sir John Grenvile or his brother Mr. Bernard could see Mistress Honor Harris on a matter of great urgency.

"Sir John is no longer with the general," answered the officer. "The Prince of Wales recalled him to his entourage yesterday. And Bernard Grenvile has returned to Stowe. I am the general's aide-de-camp at present."

This was not hopeful, for he did not know me, and as I watched the figures of the soldiers passing backwards and forwards in the hall within the house and heard the tattoo of a drum in the far distance, I thought how ill-timed and crazy was my visit, for what could they do with me, a woman and a cripple, in this moment of great stress and urgency?

I heard a murmur of voices.

"They are coming out now," said the officer; "the conference is over."

And I caught sight of Colonel Roscarrick, whom I knew well, a loyal friend of Richard's, and in my desperation I leant from my litter and called to him. He came to my side at once, in great astonishment, but at once, with true courtesy, covered his consternation and gave orders for me to be carried into the house.

"Ask me no questions," I said. "I have come at a bad moment, I can guess that. Can I see him?"

He hesitated for a fraction of a minute.

"Why, of course," he said, "he will want to see you. But I must warn you, things are not going well for him. We are all concerned."

He broke off in confusion, looking most desperately embarrassed and unhappy.

"Please," I said, avoiding his eyes, "please tell him I am here."

He went at once into the room that Richard used as his own and where we had sat together, night after night, for more than seven months. He stayed a moment, then came for me. My chair had been lifted from the litter, and he took me to the room, men closed the door. Richard was standing by the table. His face was hard, set in the "rm lines that I knew well. I could tell that of all things in the world I was, at that moment, farthest from his thoughts.

"What the devil," he said wearily, "are you doing here?"

It was not the welcome that I yearned for but was that which I deserved.

"I am sorry," I said. "I could not rest once you were gone. If anything is going to happen--which I know it must--I want to share it with you. The danger, I mean. And the aftermath."

He laughed shortly and tossed a paper onto my lap.

"There'll be no danger," he said, "not for you or me. Perhaps, after all, it is as well you came. We can travel west together."

"What do you mean?" I said.

"That letter, you can read it," he said. "It is a copy of a message I have just sent to the prince's council, resigning from His Majesty's Army. They will have it in an hour's time."

I did not answer for a moment. I sat quite cold and still.

"What do you mean?" I asked at length. "What has happened?"

He went to the fire and stood with his hands behind his back.

"I went to them," he said, "as soon as I returned from Menabilly. I told them that if they wished to save Cornwall and the prince they must appoint a supreme commander.

Men are deserting in hundreds, discipline is non-existent. This would be the only hope, the last and final chance. They thanked me. They said they would consider the matter. I went away. I rode next morning to Gunnislake and Callington; I inspected the defences. There I commanded a certain colonel of foot to blow a bridge when need arose. He disputed my authority, saying his orders were to the contrary. Would you like to know his name?"

I said nothing. Some inner sense had told me.

"It was your brother, Robin Harris," he said. "He even dared to bring your name into a military matter. 'I cannot take orders from a man,' he said, 'who has ruined the life and reputation of my sister. Sir John Digby is my commander, and Sir John has bidden me to leave this bridge intact.'"

Richard stared at me an instant and then began to pace up and down the strip of carpet by the fire.

"You would hardly credit it," he said, "such lunacy, such gross incompetence. It matters not that he is your brother, that he drags a private quarrel into the King's business. But to leave that bridge for Fairfax, to have the impertinence to tell me, a Grenvile, that John Digby knows his business best "

I could see Robin, very red about the neck, with beating heart and swelling anger, thinking, dear damned idiot, that by defying his commander he was somehow defending me and downing, in some bewildering hothead fashion, the seducer of his sister.

"What then?" I asked. "Did you see Digby?"

"No," he answered. "What would have been the use, if he defied me, as your brother did? I returned here to Launceston to take my commission from the council as supreme commander, and thus show my powers to the whole Army, and be damned to them." : "And have you the commission?"

He leant to the table and, seizing a small piece of parchment, held it before my eyes. '"The council of the prince,'" he read, '"appoints Lord Hopton in supreme command of His Majesty's forces in the West and desires that Sir Richard Grenvile-> should serve under him as lieutenant general of the foot.' "