A Soldier of Substance Read online

  “Katherine Seaman was recently present in Ormskirk and was personally acquainted with Edward Chisnall,” I said, by way of explanation. “Her brother, William, also has an ongoing business relationship with the Earl of Derby. Despite this, both Seaman and Katherine are clandestine supporters of Parliament. Seaman’s son, I am told, even serves under you here at Lathom.”

  “Yes, that is true,” confirmed Rigby. “Lawrence Seaman is an eager young lieutenant in my troop. You will meet him later today.”

  “Then suppose we let it be known among your men that Katherine Seaman was one of our collaborators and that Mr Clowes and I have been engaged to seek out her killer? That should be easy enough to substantiate, as we are both from Nantwich and are under the direct command of Sir William Brereton, commander of all parliamentarian forces in Cheshire. This way I will be able to ask the kind of questions I need to pose in order to get to the bottom of your security issues, whilst also enabling me to fulfil my personal pledge to William Seaman.”

  Rigby sucked in his cheeks and stared at me doubtfully. “I’m not convinced of the wisdom of this course of action,” he said, “but very well. I’m not sure that I have much option but to co-operate with you. However, let us discuss this more after you have rested. You have ridden a long way, so I suggest you secure yourselves a chamber upstairs – I believe there are still a few that are unoccupied – and please feel free to avail yourselves of some food. The kitchens are well-stocked and our cooks are good. I will look forward to your presence at our briefing this afternoon at four, when I will introduce you to the other officers.”

  ***

  New Park House, despite being a fine mansion, was, to my surprise, relatively sparsely furnished, and the spare bed chamber at the back of the house, in which Alexander and I found ourselves, offered little in the way of chattels other than two plain truckle beds, a small table, and a brown chamber pot. It was as though the Earl and Countess of Derby, whose house it was, had foreseen that their property would be sequestered and removed anything of value to the safety of Lathom House before Rigby and his men could seize it.

  Despite being rather more spartan than we would have liked, our room did have the advantage of being quiet. It was therefore with some degree of relief that, after availing ourselves of our share of a very fair and acceptable beef and onion pie, Alexander and I were able to take stock of our eventful two days without fear of being overheard.

  “Has it occurred to you,” asked my friend, balancing a cup of red wine on his knee, “that the question of who betrayed us is not as clear cut as you would think? It seems to me that nothing that has happened these past two days is exactly as it seems. It is impossible to tell who is dissembling and who speaks the truth.”

  “You are right,” I agreed. “I have been thinking the same thing myself. Yesterday was a very singular kind of experience, and one which I would not willingly repeat.” I gave Alexander a wan smile in acknowledgement and winced as I ran my hand along the side of my cheekbone. Until we had reached Warrington the previous evening, I had been so consumed with the necessity of saving my own skin that I had quite forgotten the fearful blow that Skinner had inflicted on the side of my head and had not noticed the stinging tenderness of my ear or the throbbing pain in my jaw. However, the pain, now that I was aware of it, had been bothering me all morning.

  “It is true,” I conceded, after a moment’s consideration, “that we cannot simply assume that Bressy was lying in wait for us because he saw Simon and myself in The Spread Eagle yesterday. There are several people who may have wished to profit from divulging our true identities to the authorities, people of whose loyalties we cannot be certain.”

  “That’s right,” said Alexander, warming to the subject. “Take your friend Seaman, for example. He saw straight through your cover. He says he is for Parliament, and even has a son fighting under Rigby’s command here at Lathom. And yet everything else about him suggests he is for the King. His public front is as a committed royalist, he has remained in Chester, is a close business associate of the man who commands the Chester town guard, and even invites royalist officers to dinner! Can we really be certain he was not responsible for unmasking us?”

  “Chisnall could also have betrayed us,” I added. “He has been suspicious about me from the start.”

  “But Chisnall did not know we would be in Gloverstone yesterday morning.”

  “That is true, but neither did Seaman,” I pointed out.

  Alexander pondered the point for a moment and took a mouthful of wine, swishing the liquid around the inside of his cheeks before swallowing.

  “Fine,” he said, “then consider this. Suppose it was Skinner himself who alerted Bressy to our presence? He has already saved your life once. He is under no obligation to do so again.”

  “Skinner?” I exclaimed, horrified. “Surely not?”

  “He wouldn’t be the first soldier to turn his coat.” Alexander was right, of course; many fighting men had changed their allegiance when it was expedient to do so. Many of the royalists captured at Nantwich had done exactly that. I had also not forgotten Skinner’s odd hesitance and initial lack of enthusiasm when Simon and I had revealed our plan to him two days before; and yet something made me doubt that he would have had us arrested as spies. Surely he would have simply told us to leave him to his soldiering and return to our families in Nantwich? It was then that a thought occurred to me.

  “There is one other person,” I said, “who may have had the necessary knowledge and motive for betraying us to the authorities.”

  “You mean Annie, the girl at The Boot?”

  “Precisely,” I said, surprised at my friend’s perceptiveness. Alexander was proving himself to be more sharp-witted than I had given him credit for. “Annie portrays herself as a simple whore, but in fact she is more the brothel madam. She is older than the rest of them and enjoys a level of trust from Corbett that the other girls don’t. If Corbett and his son were arrested and thrown in gaol, would she not stand to benefit from their misfortune? She is also well-acquainted with Jem Bressy; you heard as much yourself.”

  “Yes, but then why let us escape with the ciphers, and why weren’t we intercepted at the Kaleyard Gate?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted, with a shrug. “Maybe she didn’t know we were carrying the ciphers. Only Corbett himself told us about them.” I suddenly felt immensely tired and leant back on my bed, exhaling loudly. “Well, at least we are safe here,” I said, closing my eyes, “and we live to fight another day.”

  As I drifted off into slumber, though, there was one image that remained etched on my mind, one which I felt sure would hold some significance in the days to come. It was the sign of the eagle and child on the perfume bottle that had hung around Annie’s neck.

  Chapter 15

  Lathom House – Friday March 8th – Saturday March 9th, 1644

  The military briefing, which took place later that same afternoon, turned out to be a curious affair, in that it eventually became clear which of the four colonels left in command felt best positioned to assume practical responsibility for the completion of the siege works. Colonel Peter Egerton, the man supposedly in charge, was absent for reasons unexplained, whilst two of the other commanders, Ralph Assheton and John Moore, spent most of the time trying to persuade Colonel Rigby that they would be better advised trying to storm the house rather than imposing a potentially lengthy and costly siege.

  “There are three thousand of us and only three hundred of them,” reasoned Assheton, a muscular, square-jawed man with a confident air. “No matter how strong their defences are, they cannot hold out against overwhelming force.”

  Rigby, however, argued his case vehemently. “Thanks to Captain Ashurst, we know that the garrison has victuals only for two weeks,” he said. “Why risk the lives of good men, when Lathom will be our own before April is out?” Assheton said nothing, but spent much of the rest of the meeting with perpetually raised eyebrows, as Rigby, clearly animat
ed at the prospect of being able to pursue the siege without having to defer to Fairfax, outlined his plans for the coming days.

  The besieging force was to be split into three groups, with each being on duty for a day and a night at a time, in order to progress as quickly as possible with the completion of a network of ditches and sconces encircling the entire house.

  It was not surprising that Rigby wished to assume responsibility for this, as most of the besieging force, hailing from the Amounderness Hundred north of Lathom, came under his direct command. These included the chief engineer, a taciturn and solemn-looking man called Browne, and a short, arrogant Welshman called Thomas Morgan, to whom I took an instant dislike. Morgan, it was explained, had commanded a troop of dragoons at Nantwich, but was now in charge of Rigby’s artillery. There was a Major Robinson and a plethora of captains too – Davie, Duddell, Sharples, and Dandie are names I remember, the latter because he turned out to be the father of the young lieutenant captured by Lady Charlotte’s men in the attempted arrest related to me by Rigby the day before. Also present were the aforementioned Captain Ashurst, a genial-looking officer in his late thirties, and a slim, dark-haired man with aquiline features, who was introduced as William Bootle, Rigby’s expert on the interior of Lathom House. Bootle, it transpired, had previously been a porter in the service of the Earl of Derby and hence knew the layout of the house intimately.

  When Rigby had finished speaking, there was a momentary silence, as if none of the small assembly of officers dared to be the first to question the colonel. In the end, it was the Welshman, Morgan, who was first to speak.

  “Colonel, may I ask what ordnance will be placed at my disposal during this siege and when we will be able to bring it to bear on the enemy? I am supposed to be in charge of artillery here and yet the guns that I do have may as well be in Manchester, for the gun placements are not ready, and we cannot move our cannon into position.”

  I looked across the room and thought I saw the hint of a smirk on Assheton’s lips.

  “That, Major, will depend on the progress made during these coming days in completing the trenches,” replied Rigby. “All being well, we should be able to get both the cannon and the culverin in position within the next ten days or so. I have authorised Mr Browne to work day and night on the trenches and to recruit more labour from the nearby villages. Both guns will be placed to the south-west of the house, where the ground is best disposed to allow us the maximum chance of creating a breach in their walls, but I repeat, the speed at which we will be able to begin our work will depend on the efficacy of Mr Browne and his men.”

  “The siege works will be ready,” said Browne, evenly. If the engineer felt affronted by Morgan’s words, he kept it well hidden. “We are building a testudo to protect the workers in the trenches,” he added. “This will be ready tomorrow and will allow us to dig during the day.”

  “That will help,” conceded Morgan, “but we need more than just cannon. The angle of the land here means it will be difficult to get the right trajectory to sufficiently damage the walls. We will probably be able to reduce the Eagle Tower to the same height as those surrounding it, but blasting our way through the walls will be a different matter. What we need is a mortar.”

  “Sir William Brereton has agreed to furnish us with such a piece of equipment,” said Rigby, “but it may take some time to procure.”

  “And ammunition?” pressed Morgan. “We will need more than a few rocks.”

  I couldn’t be certain, but I thought I saw Rigby’s eyes flick momentarily towards where Assheton and Moore were sitting, but the two other colonels simply smiled inscrutably back at Rigby.

  “Plans are in place,” insisted Rigby. “You will have all the shells you need to reduce this place to rubble.”

  A low murmur of approval passed around the room and Rigby nodded with satisfaction as he allowed the impact of his words to sink in. “Gentlemen,” he said, “if there are no more questions, then I suggest that we pray that God gives us the strength and resolution to complete these works in a timely manner.”

  “I have a question,” came a voice from the back of the room. I looked and saw that the speaker was Captain Bootle.

  “What’s on your mind, Captain?” asked Rigby.

  “How will our new colleagues be employed while we are keeping watch over the trenches and providing target practice for Lady Derby’s snipers?” asked Bootle, simply. Immediately, all eyes turned towards Alexander and myself. If the truth be told, when we had entered the room at the start of the meeting, we had attracted a number of curious looks from several of the officers, but Rigby had immediately introduced us as intelligence officers seconded to the command of Sir Thomas Fairfax and entrusted with investigating the murder of one of his informants in Chester. This had caused some puzzled expressions and someone had asked what this had to do with Lathom, but Rigby had not been willing to elaborate, not least because we had not yet spoken to Lawrence Seaman about his aunt’s death. That particular task had been scheduled to take place after the conclusion of the briefing.

  “I’m glad you asked me that,” said Rigby. “Mr Cheswis and Mr Clowes are both proficient with muskets, having served as part of the garrison forces which so bravely came to our aid in Nantwich, so they will serve their fair share of time in the trenches with the rest of you. In fact, they can commence with tonight’s watch immediately after this meeting. The rest of the time they are free to conduct their investigations as they see fit.”

  I cast a glance over towards Alexander and groaned inwardly. Another stint as a musketeer was not what I had expected, but I was not in a position to complain, for I needed to gain the respect of Rigby’s officers if I was to make any headway with the task entrusted to me by Fairfax.

  Rigby’s words seemed to satisfy the officers, one or two of whom nodded to me in acceptance. As they dispersed to their various duties, though, Rigby called William Bootle back.

  “Captain Bootle,” he said, “you will find Lieutenant Seaman waiting in the hallway. Would you please bring him in? What I have to say to him is for your ears also.”

  I looked at Rigby, who waited until Bootle had left the room before addressing me. “William Bootle is the brother-in-law of Katherine Seaman’s sister, Jane, who resides in Ormskirk,” explained the colonel. “It is appropriate that both Lieutenant Seaman and Captain Bootle are informed about their relative’s demise.”

  This was an unexpected development, and my surprise must have shown on my face, because Rigby qualified his statement by adding, “Ormskirk is a small place, Mr Cheswis. Many families are related by marriage. Nantwich cannot be much different.” This was true, of course, and there was no reason why Seaman would have necessarily thought to mention the connection, for William Bootle was no blood relative of Seaman’s.

  I indicated to Rigby that I had no objection to Bootle listening to what I had to say and watched as the captain re-entered the room, closely followed by a young man of medium height with a shock of fair hair covering his forehead and an inquisitive look on his face. Like his father, Lawrence Seaman had a wide mouth, which conveyed a sense of openness, but I detected a sense of disquiet in his voice as he introduced himself.

  “You wished to speak to me, sir?” he said, casting an apprehensive glance at Rigby.

  “My name is Daniel Cheswis, and this is my associate, Alexander Clowes,” I began. “We come directly from your father in Chester. We have some difficult news to impart to you and Mr Bootle concerning your aunt, Katherine Seaman.”

  “My aunt? But she was here only a few days ago. How can you possibly-”

  I raised my hand gently to silence the young man. “I’m afraid there is no easy way to convey the news I bear, Mr Seaman. Your aunt was most brutally murdered last night, in the courtyard behind your father’s house. One of the servants has been arrested, although I am not convinced he is the man responsible.”

  The young lieutenant stiffened. “Murdered?” he gasped, “but how? And why
are you the person bringing me this news? You are not known to me.”

  “That is true,” I said. “I am a cheese vendor from Nantwich, and I was visiting your father on business. However, Mr Clowes and I also work for Sir William Brereton, which is why we are here. I promised to look into the affair on behalf of your father, as well as to pass on the sad tidings to yourself and your other aunt, who, I believe, lives in Ormskirk.”

  “Aunt Jane? Yes, she is married to William’s brother,” said Seaman, looking puzzled, “but there is something I don’t understand. Colonel Rigby spoke of the murder of one of our informers. Surely he cannot mean my Aunt Katherine; she had no interest in politics. And why would my father ask you to look into this matter?”

  I glanced at Rigby and realised that we would have to take Bootle and Seaman into our confidence, at least in part. “I’m afraid I happened to be dining with your parents two days ago, when your aunt was so cruelly attacked,” I explained, before giving a brief account of that evening’s events.

  “But Colonel Rigby gave the impression that you had been specifically sent by Sir William Brereton,” interrupted Bootle, who had been following the conversation closely. “If this happened only two days ago, then this cannot have been so, and you say yourself that Lawrence’s father asked you here.”

  I looked again at Rigby, who gave me an exasperated look, followed by an almost imperceptible nod.

  “I have other work to carry out here on behalf of Sir William Brereton and Sir Thomas Fairfax, the nature of which I am not at liberty to divulge,” I said.

  Bootle emitted a brief bark of laughter and looked at me scornfully. “If you are here on behalf of Sir William Brereton and you are an intelligencer, then I’ll wager you are here to look into how you might stop information passing into and out of Lathom House. Would that be close to the truth?”