Civil Conflict Read online

  'I will be quick,' answered Lysbeth, then settled herself on a deep windowseat as a servant appeared and her father gave orders for his immediate refreshment and for two guest chambers to be prepared. As soon as the servant had left the room he turned to Lysbeth.

  'Now, my dear, what is it that troubles you so?'

  Lysbeth burst out with her story, telling her father first how she had found old Ebenezer so distressed, the cause of his distress, and her own somewhat rash proceeding in following the troopers and accosting them. Her father raised his eyebrows when she came to this part of the tale, but did not comment until she had finished. She came over to him and sank down on the floor at his side.

  'Father, what will you do?'

  He stroked her hair absently. 'I would expect recompense to be paid, my love,' he said calmly. 'It was a high-handed proceeding, most certainly, but in these troubled times soldiers cannot always wait on formalities.'

  'But, Father, they have stolen your sheep!' Lysbeth protested, looking up at him with a puzzled frown. 'Will you not punish them?'

  He looked at her sadly. 'If indeed they do it in the King's name, my child,' he answered, 'what measures can I take to punish them?'

  'Surely the King would not be a party to theft?'

  'Whether 'tis theft or not remains to be proved. We will soon discover whether recompense is to be offered.'

  She did not reply, but her stormy face was enough to show she disagreed.

  'Soldiers have to be fed,' he went on. 'The King is raising troops to join him in his war against Parliament.'

  'But surely that does not concern us?' Lysbeth asked with a puzzled frown.

  'I am afraid it may well concern all of us,' her father replied sadly.

  Lysbeth thought deeply. She had heard about the King setting up the Royal Standard at Nottingham a few weeks earlier, but she knew little of the events leading to this, merely that the King and his Parliament were not agreeing.

  'Surely,' she said after a few moments of thought, 'this is but a small quarrel which will soon be settled? Nottingham, even London, those are the places where the quarrel will be fought out. Why does it affect us, so far away?'

  'I fear it is not so small a quarrel as you think,' her father replied, sighing. 'But enough, my dear, now I must make preparations for our guests. I will see Ebenezer tomorrow, and then I will ride into Preston and see what is to be done. You must be satisfied with that.'

  Lysbeth shook her head, but said nothing. She rose, and stood looking down at her father.

  'It must be as you say, Father,' she said slowly, 'but I think it passing strange.'

  He smiled at her, a sad sweet smile.

  'Well, you must forget it for now,' he replied. 'Go and change into a pretty gown so that you can help entertain our visitors.'

  'Who are they?' she asked, not really interested, but aware that he wanted her to make a good impression.

  'Why, two friends of Arthur's, that he knew in London. A Sir James Howard and a Mr Staunton. Arthur met them in Preston, and invited them back here. I came ahead. Arthur awaits Sir James, who had some business to complete. They will be here anon, so be a good lass and go and change. Help us entertain these young men.'

  *

  With a nod and a smile, Lysbeth left the room, and did as she was bidden. She was still wearing the green riding habit she had worn earlier, so she walked slowly up the stairs and changed into a rose-coloured velvet dress which suited her dark prettiness admirably.

  While she was changing, Lysbeth heard the sound of new arrivals, and assumed that it was her brother and his guests. She did not hurry, but eventually made her way downstairs and into the parlour. A stranger was standing there with his back to the room, looking out of the windows which overlooked the valley and the river. At the sound of Lysbeth's entrance, he turned slowly, and stood regarding her. An amused smile came into his face, while Lysbeth, with a horrified gasp, took another couple of steps towards him.

  'You!' she whispered. 'What do you here? How dare you come into this house? What do you want, more booty?'

  He smiled broadly. 'Why, 'tis my little shepherdess. I am delighted to meet you again in more propitious circumstances,' he drawled.

  'Why are you here?' she repeated. 'Have you come to steal something else, or to pay?'

  'We do not steal things,' he answered her.

  'Then what were you doing driving off our sheep?' she asked hotly.

  'Be calm, little one,' he replied, maddeningly. 'I am merely collecting provisions for the King's army. Surely you are loyal to the King and would not wish his troops to starve ?'

  'Then, do you mean to pay for what you took?' Lysbeth asked.

  'But of course,' the man replied.

  'Why did you not say so?' she demanded of him. 'You terrified old Ebenezer.'

  The soldier shrugged. 'That I regret, but the old man would not listen to what we said. We tried to show him our authority, but he would not listen.'

  'I am not surprised,' Lysbeth retorted. 'All he could think of was that you were stealing the sheep he was responsible for. If you were poor, without learning, mayhap you would have been too frightened to listen to explanations, too.'

  They had no time for further argument, as at that moment Lysbeth's brother Arthur and his other guest walked into the room. Arthur was a tall man, several years senior to Lysbeth, but with the same dark good looks.

  'Why, James,' he said, greeting the visitor affably, 'my apologies for keeping you waiting, but I hope my sister Lysbeth has been entertaining you?'

  'Most royally,' James replied, smiling quizzically down at Lysbeth's furious face, 'but perhaps you will present me formally. I fear your sister has some doubts about me.'

  Arthur looked surprised, but then made formal presentations to his sister.

  'Sir James Howard, a friend I met in London,' he explained, 'and who is now in Lancashire on the King's business. And Mr Christopher Staunton, similarly engaged.'

  'I have already had experience of Sir James's work,' said Lysbeth in a tight little voice.

  At that moment her parents entered the room, and the presentations were made, conversation became general, and continued so until after the meal. Lysbeth's mother drew Lysbeth out of the room after the meal finished.

  'Come upstairs to my boudoir,' she said. 'Your father has business to discuss, and they will not want our company further tonight.'

  Lysbeth followed her mother upstairs, and sat broodingly with a piece of embroidery in her lap. Her mother glanced at her from time to time, then eventually asked what was the matter.

  'I have rarely known you so quiet,' she chided gently. 'Could you not have made more effort to entertain Arthur's friends?'

  'But, Mother, he is a thief!' Lysbeth said, turning a woebegone face to her mother, and out came the story again. To her relief, though slight chagrin, her mother merely laughed when she confessed to having followed the troopers.

  'What good did you expect to achieve, my child?' she asked.

  'But, Mother, they had stolen our sheep!'

  Lady Fenton shrugged. 'Sir James has come here largely because he is a friend of Arthur's, but also he explained to your father that he was going round making payment for the animals they had to requisition.'

  'If they had to take the animals, 'twould have been better if they had made payment earlier,' Lysbeth said tartly.

  Her mother nodded. 'Mayhap you are right. But in times of war, odd things happen. We have not had war in this country for many years. It is strange for us, and we will find it difficult to become used to the things that are necessary. Do not worry, our visitors are not criminals, and your father will receive recompense.'

  'But Ebenezer, he was so afraid.'

  'That is to be regretted,' Lady Fenton sighed, 'but I will go down and see them tomorrow. I think you will find that when he realises your father does not blame him, he will recover.'

  Dissatisfied with these reassurances though she was, Lysbeth had the sense no
t to argue any more, but she soon excused herself and went to bed, promising herself that if the King's soldiers did such things, then she did not particularly want to help them.

  *

  When she came down to breakfast the following morning, it was with relief that she learned the visitors had already ridden away, but she was disturbed to find that they had persuaded Arthur to join the King's army. Arthur and his father were talking about it as she entered the room.

  'Father,' she heard Arthur say, 'the King needs help to be able to crush the rebels speedily. You would not forbid me to go?'

  'No,' Sir Francis answered slowly. 'I can scarce forbid that, but I would regret it. The King has done many things which the people feel are wrong, and a civil war is a disaster for any nation.'

  'There was nothing else he could do,' Arthur protested. 'Surely the things that Parliament have done are sufficient to condemn them. Any reasonable man must support the King.'

  'In this matter, yes, I think you are right,' Sir Francis said, 'but whether it is necessary for everyone to rush to join the King's standard, this is something I am not certain of.'

  'The more quickly the people join him, the more likely the rebellion will be crushed easily,' Arthur replied hotly.

  'Mayhap you are right.' His father smiled at him. 'I will put no rub in your way if you wish to go. Is that what you wish?'

  'Aye,' Arthur replied slowly. 'I have thought well on it during the night, and I feel it my duty to support the King. You will give me your blessing?'

  'But surely,' his father replied, getting up and placing his hand on Arthur's shoulder. 'Your mother will regret it, but she will not seek to keep you here against your will.'

  Lysbeth could control herself no longer.

  'Arthur, do you mean you are going to join that – that ruffian who goes round stealing sheep? Will you be like him, stealing the animals of innocent people?'

  Her brother laughed at her.

  'I have heard that story.' He smiled. 'It was brave but foolhardy of you to go chasing a band of robbers.' He laughed again. 'You would be wise not to roam so much alone over the countryside now that troubled times are here.'

  Her father nodded. 'Yes, my dear. We have allowed you much freedom, but I fear it is as Arthur says. In future will you promise me always to take a groom with you when you go out riding?'

  Lysbeth stared in dismay. 'But everyone knows me here. I'm perfectly safe.'

  'Not while there are bands of soldiers roaming round,' her father said sternly. 'You were in many ways lucky yesterday that no harm came to you from your rash adventure. Next time you might not meet with such courteous behaviour.'

  'Courteous?' Lysbeth almost spluttered into her drink. 'I did not regard their behaviour as courteous. Why, they refused to listen to me – they laughed at me!'

  Her father regarded her with amusement. 'Well, my dear, you are only a child, after all. You are not fifteen. What else would you expect?'

  By this time Lysbeth was furiously angry and mortified. With a muttered excuse, she rose from the table and almost ran out of the room.

  *

  Chapter 3

  Forgetting completely her father's instructions about not riding alone, she had her pony saddled, and was soon galloping across the moors getting rid of her anger and resentment in the way she usually found successful. Today, however, the remedy did not take effect as rapidly as usual, and she was still seething with anger. Trotting along a lane leading down from the moors, she met an old friend of hers, the son of a neighbour who lived a few miles off. She greeted him somewhat abstractedly.

  'Why, good morning, Tom.'

  He eyed her closely, and turned his horse so that they rode along together.

  'What ails you, Lysbeth?' he asked, after a few minutes of silence. 'You look exceeding angry. I trust it is not with me?'

  She grinned at that. Tom was a friendly soul, and she could not recall ever having been angered by him in the whole of her long acquaintance with him. Sensing his sympathy, she was soon pouring out the tale into his ears, and for the first time found someone who appreciated her point of view. She was delighted that he agreed with her, and they rode for some time discussing the perfidy of the soldiers.

  'And now,' she finished heatedly, 'this odious man has persuaded Arthur to ride off with him, to go and support the King.'

  Tom took this news seriously.

  'Does your father approve?' he asked quickly.

  'He does not disapprove,' Lysbeth answered. 'I think he would prefer that Arthur did not go, but he said he would not prevent him. Why?'

  She had been struck by a peculiar note in Tom's voice.

  'It is just that I wonder how much right the King has on his side,' Tom answered slowly. 'He is not altogether without fault, you know.'

  'But the Parliament, they will not do as the King wishes,' Lysbeth said, somewhat puzzled. 'Surely if they rebel against him, he is right to put down the rebellion?'

  'What do you know of this rebellion?' Tom asked gently, and Lysbeth, puzzled, shook her head.

  'Not very much, it is true. My parents and Arthur have discussed it a little, but I do not know many details. Why do you ask?'

  'Do you not think there might be justice in the rebellion?' Tom asked.

  'Justice? In rebellion?' queried Lysbeth in great puzzlement. 'But rebellion against the King? Can that be justified? What do you mean?'

  Tom looked at her. She was an intelligent child, and he had ideas he wanted to discuss with someone.

  'Let us water the horses here and sit down while I tell you something about it,' he suggested, and as Lysbeth nodded they turned on to a flat, grassy place with a stream running across the middle of it. Helping her to dismount, Tom tethered the horses where they could drink from the stream, and crop the grass, then he threw himself down beside Lysbeth, who had seated herself a little way off.

  'Now,' she demanded, 'what is this you are suggesting? Are you saying the King is wrong? It's a strange new idea to me. Come, Tom, explain it.'

  'Ideas are beginning to change somewhat,' Tom said slowly, musing almost as if to himself. 'In the old days we accepted the King or Queen, we accepted that they had absolute rights over all their subjects. But now people begin to question this.'

  'What do you mean?' asked Lysbeth, puzzled.

  'Well, some of the things King Charles has done seem to be against his subjects, not for them.' He paused.

  'Such as?' Lysbeth prompted.

  'Well, take the question of religion,' Tom replied, looking at her. 'You attend the established Church, do you not?'

  'You know well we do,' said Lysbeth. 'Why, you go yourself.'

  'But what of those who do not wish to go?'

  'You mean the Papists?' Lysbeth asked quickly. 'But they are wrong, the King is not supporting them.'

  'Is he not?' Tom raised his eyebrows at her. 'Many think he is secretly a Papist. His wife is. She is allowed to worship as she wishes, unlike the rest of his subjects. Many think she has turned him to her persuasion.'

  'But – I don't understand,' Lysbeth said slowly. 'Would you – what do you want? Do you want freedom for the Papists?'

  'I want freedom for men to worship as they wish,' Tom said seriously. 'I do not like the Papist religion, but there are many good men in this part of the country that subscribe to it. There are also many who do not like the practices of the established Church. They wish for a simpler form of worship that brings them nearer to God. Should they not be allowed to worship as they will?'

  Lysbeth pondered this. 'I do not see the harm in it,' she said at last. 'But what has this to do with the King?'

  'Do you remember,' Tom asked, 'the trouble there was in Scotland?'

  'I think so,' Lysbeth answered. 'Was it not to do with the Prayer Book?'

  'Yes. The Scots, as you know, favour a Presbyterian system, but King Charles has tried to force them to conform to the English system with the Prayer Book and bishops. That caused them to rebel. Has he the
right to force his subjects to worship in a particular way?'

  'I hadn't really thought of it before,' Lysbeth confessed slowly, 'but I see no harm in it. Why shouldn't people worship as they will? But is that all he has done to offend people?'

  'Is that not enough?' Tom answered sharply. 'As a result of his meddling in Scottish religion, we have had the Scots invade this country.'

  'But I thought that was settled,' Lysbeth objected.

  'That sort of settlement needs money. That is another grievance people have against this King. He spends money in ways we do not want it spent. He raises the money by methods some think are not legal.'

  'How can the King do something not legal?' queried Lysbeth. 'Surely he makes the laws?'

  'Parliament makes the laws,' Tom said, 'and the King has tried for many years to rule without a Parliament. 'Twas only in his great need for money that he called this present Parliament.'

  'I do not understand that,' said Lysbeth. 'Who, then, makes the laws, the King or Parliament?'

  'Ideally, both together,' Tom smiled at her. 'It is a complicated business. Do you understand? The recent troubles have been because the King wants money which Parliament must grant him, and Parliament, before granting him the money, wants the King to promise certain reforms. This he will not do.'

  'So this is the trouble between them?' Lysbeth smiled at him. 'We hear news of what goes on, at home, but my father does not seem interested. He is so concerned with his estate and with local matters. He will not explain to me what we hear from London. He tells me not to bother my head with such things. Thank you, Tom. Thank you for explaining. I think I understand more now.'

  'Do you think now that the King can do no wrong?' Tom asked, looking at her with an anxious little smile on his face.

  'I suppose he can, from what you say,' Lysbeth agreed. 'It is a strange idea. I do, not altogether like it, but if things are as you say, then yes, he must be wrong. What is happening now?'

  'Now the King has declared war on Parliament, which means on his people.'