The Forest - Edward Rutherfurd [207]
The sheriff in question had previously fought as a colonel in Cromwell’s army and, whatever his situation, he was not going to be browbeaten. ‘I will not,’ he replied stoutly.
‘God’s blood!’ Wagstaff cried. ‘Hang them now, Penruddock. God’s blood,’ he added again for good measure.
‘That is blasphemy, Sir,’ observed one of the judges. It was a frequent complaint of the Puritan opponents of the loose-living royalist cavaliers that their language was blasphemous.
‘Damn your snivelling cant, you flat-faced Bible thumper, I’m going to hang you. Bring ropes,’ Wagstaff cried, casting about in the dawning for a promising point of suspension.
And it was several minutes before Penruddock could persuade him that this was not their best course. In the end, the judges had their official commission documents burned in front of them and the sheriff was put on a horse, still in his nightshirt, to be taken with them as a hostage. ‘We can always hang him later,’ a rather grumpy Wagstaff muttered with a small revival of hope.
It was getting quite light now and the enlarged forces had gathered in the market. There were nearly four hundred in all. To Thomas they seemed a huge army. But he saw his father purse his lips and quietly enquire of Grove: ‘How many citizens did you get?’
‘Not many,’ Grove murmured.
‘Mostly the gaolbirds, then.’ He looked grim. ‘Where’s Hertford?’
‘He’ll join us. Along the way,’ Wagstaff grunted. ‘Depend on it.’
‘I do.’ Colonel John Penruddock beckoned Thomas to draw close. ‘Thomas, you are to go to your mother and give her a full report of all that has passed. You are to remain at home until you receive my word to join me. Do you understand?’
‘But, Father. You said I could ride with you.’
‘You will obey me, Thomas. You will give me your word as a gentleman to do exactly as I say. Remain guarding your mother, your brothers and sisters, until I send for you.’
Thomas felt his eyes growing hot. His father had never asked for his word as a gentleman before, but even this tiny thrill of pleasure was swamped by the great wave of disappointment and misery that had just broken over him. ‘Oh, Father.’ He choked back the tears. He felt a huge sense of loss. He had been going to ride with his father, a fellow soldier at his side. Would the chance ever come again? He felt his father’s hand on his arm. The hand squeezed.
‘We rode together all this night. I was glad to have you at my side, my brave boy. The proudest, best night of my life. Always remember that.’ He smiled. ‘Now promise me.’
‘I promise, Father.’
‘Time to ride,’ said Wagstaff.
‘Yes,’ said Colonel John Penruddock.
*
Monday passed quietly at Compton Chamberlayne. Thomas slept in the afternoon. Just before dusk a horseman on his way up the road from the west towards Sarum brought news to Mrs Penruddock that her husband and his men had been at Shaftesbury, only a dozen miles away; but fearing that it might tempt Thomas to ride out there she did not tell him. On Tuesday a party of Cromwell’s horse arrived in Sarum. Within hours, they had ridden on, westward. When asked what their mission was they replied: ‘To hunt down Penruddock.’
Wednesday passed. There was no news. Somewhere over the big chalk ridges that swept towards the west, Penruddock was collecting troops, perhaps fighting. But although young Thomas stopped every horseman coming from the west and his mother sent three times a day to Sarum for news, there was none. Only silence. Nobody even knew where they were. Penruddock’s Rising had rolled away out of sight.
Why was it happening? Why had the members of the Sealed Knot decided they could strike now and why was level-headed Colonel John Penruddock involved in this perilous business?
Whatever the king’s faults, the shock at the execution of Charles I had been widespread. Tracts describing him as a martyr had sold in such huge numbers that there were almost as many in circulation as Bibles. Nor was it long before the Scots – who had no more wish to be ruled by Cromwell and his English army than they had to be subject