Rebels and traitors

Chapter Forty-Eight — Colchester: 1648

The groom who had escorted Juliana to London was still hanging about the town house. He had taken up with the live-out maid so refused to return to Sussex, claiming to be afraid of soldiers on the road. Juliana could not persuade him. This was the problem with patronage. When it worked, life was easy; when it stopped working, dependants were trapped. She had no authority to give the servants orders. She did not want to lose the time it would take to write to Pelham Hall about it — and nor was she keen to travel with a hangdog, reluctant guard. Undaunted and longing to regain her children, she found a carrier who would take her. Luckily it was summer and there were plenty still working.

She reached Pelham Hall at the end of June. A good woman in the village had been caring for Tom and Valentine, who fell upon her in floods of tears, though she soon ascertained they were simply making her feel guilty. Now they at least were back together. There was no sign of Lovell, of course. Her sons kept asking where he was, as though he was their favourite parent.

There was bad news. While Juliana was away, Sir Lysander Pelham had been found dead in his bed. He had had no illness to speak of, though his daughters would claim he was broken-hearted by failure in the second civil war. With Sir Lysander gone, it was made plain the Lovells were no longer wanted. Although no efforts would be made to evict Juliana and her children while she was helpless, just as soon as her husband returned to her, the family would be expected to move on. It would be useful to start packing now.

Juliana accepted this precarious position calmly. She had tolerated Sir Lysander Pelham but never liked his relatives. She managed to remain polite to them through the month of June and into July, hoping her husband would reappear to claim her. Then, that wish was superseded. Reading news-sheets brought Juliana a great shock. Earlier than any of them might have hoped, she was able to oblige the hostile Pelham women.

The Royalist revolt's promising start had been systematically foiled. Oliver Cromwell had battened down in Wales, besieging rebel-held castles; once Tenby and Pembroke fell, he was free to go north and deal with the invading Scots. Juliana paid most attention to what happened in Kent, where her husband was supposed to be. There the Royalists had a large, well-organised army, support from the navy, towns and castles in their control, and a hoped-for welcome from the City of London. They had expected that Fairfax, now a lord after his father's death, would march the Parliamentary forces north, to block the Scots' army; they pinned their hopes on that army defeating him. Instead Fairfax took a small but highly experienced body of men to quell the insurrection in the south-east.

As he rode into Kent, Fairfax meant business. His reputation went before him; Royalist desertions began immediately. Although the rebels had recruited superior numbers, these were misguidedly divided between Maidstone, Dover and Rochester. There was a bloody fight at Maidstone, which Fairfax captured, street by street over the course of five hours. Elsewhere, Rich relieved Dover Castle and Ireton took Canterbury. On the promise of good treatment, many Royalists dispersed. Within weeks, the last pockets of rebellion were being mopped up.

Now came a change which was to horrify Juliana. The main Royalist army in Kent was commanded by the Earl of Norwich, Sir George Goring's elderly father. Lord Norwich moved towards London; he reached Blackheath on the outskirts, still full of confidence. However, when a fight seemed imminent the City lost heart; Norwich found the gates closed against him. Skippon was protecting London itself, while Whalley had ridden over London Bridge with some of the New Model Army men to take up a position in Essex. These were both reliable commanders. Harried by Parliamentary cavalry, Norwich moved down into Greenwich where he crossed the Thames northwards, with just five hundred desperate men either ferried in small boats or swimming their horses over. More than two thousand other Royalists had deserted and fled.

Away in eastern Kent, Fairfax deemed it safe to leave subordinates to finish restoring order. He crossed the estuary by boat from Gravesend to Tilbury. On the north side of the Thames in Essex, Royalist support at first snowballed, but just as quickly it spontaneously collapsed. Suddenly their situation looked desperate. Norwich sought refuge in Chelmsford from where, with Sir Charles Lucas and other leaders, he moved on to Colchester, which was Lucas's home town. Fairfax was dangerously close behind. Intending to stay only one night, the Royalists persuaded the Mayor of Colchester to admit them.

As soon as Fairfax arrived, he attempted to storm the town, but the defenders resisted. They could not escape because their men were mainly infantry and Parliamentary cavalry would cut them to pieces. Suffolk Trained Bands, supporting Fairfax, were blocking all the roads north. Royalist ships attempting to bring supplies up the River Colne were beaten back, then three Parliamentarian ships arrived from Harwich. Fairfax's troops seized the local harbour.

It began to rain. Fairfax sat down to starve out Colchester, in what would become a long, bitter and terrible siege. Juliana pored over the news as the town of her birth began to suffer. Fairfax had neither the men nor the equipment for a snap break-in. Grimly he encircled Colchester with ten forts, connected by rudimentary walls. The defenders fired the suburbs. Sallies out were made by the Royalists, which involved fierce fighting. The rain came down incessantly, until the countryside flooded. Conditions inside the town worsened.

Oliver Cromwell and John Lambert tailed the invading Scottish through the north of England. They defeated the Scots in a running rout near Preston over two days in August. When this was reported in Colchester, the Royalist leaders decided to break out and escape or perish; without horses the idea was hopeless and their soldiers mutinied. The town surrendered to Fairfax.

There were vivid news-sheets.

Juliana read them with mounting despair. Bread had run out. The imprisoned inhabitants had eaten horseflesh, then dogs and cats, and finally rats. Royalist leaders kept secret from the suffering townsfolk any favourable surrender terms Fairfax offered, until he had arrows shot over the walls, wrapped in papers that gave details. There was bad feeling as the people pleaded with Lord Norwich to surrender but he would not submit. Juliana thought of rats, envisaging all too clearly their size, their intelligent knowing eyes, and their frightful squeals if trapped… She had terrible dreams. She considered her options desperately, then made up her mind. The Pelham women were amazed when their unwelcome guest from Sir Lysander's farmhouse came in obvious agitation to tell them that she had to leave.

'I must urgently go to Colchester.'

"Why, madam, this cannot be sensible or safe — but do you think that your husband was there and has been captured?'

'I have to go. My family lived at Colchester. Someone of mine was in the town — someone who cannot have borne those conditions…'

For the first time, the Pelhams saw Juliana Lovell lose her serene control. Tears rushed into her eyes; her lip trembled. When Bessy felt moved to go to her, Juliana could not immediately speak but pressed one hand over her mouth and shook with distress. Years of absence and silence had finally become too much for her.

'Oh Mistress Lovell, whatever is it? Who do you know at Colchester?'

'Germain Carlill. A frail old man whose wits left him years ago, and the good woman who takes care of him.' Juliana took a breath and forced herself not to break down. 'He is my father,' she said.