The Dragonnade

© Copyright 2008 Miles Hawke

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isbn: 978-1-4251-5741-8

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10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2

CHAPTER TITLES

DEDICATION

ACKOWLEDGEMENTS

OLDE ENGLISHE GLOSSARY

Chapter One

L E T T E R S - O F - M A R Q U E 

Original poetry: Anniversaire du Boucaniers

Chapter Two

SMUGGLER’S MOON 

Poem: Morning light of Venus

Chapter Three

S I L V E R S T R E E T 

Poem: Maids

Chapter Four

M O N M O U T H B E A C H 

Poem: The Inner Circle

Chapter Five

THE BLACK DOG INN 

Poem: Missing You

Chapter Six

THE WHISPERED PARDON 

Poem: The Black Dog

Chapter Seven

DOUBLOONS, DUCATS & PIECES OF EIGHT 

Poem: Thy Image

Chapter Eight

DEADMEN’S TALES 

Poem: Friendship True Friendship

Chapter Nine

NOBLE MEN AND KNAVES 

Poem: The Sea

Chapter Ten

ROUGH DIAMOND 

Poem: Clouds

Chapter Eleven

BEGGING YOUR PARDON 

Poem: The Lost Smile

Chapter Twelve

ALL WHISPERS BE LIES 

Poem: Love

Chapter Thirteen

M O R S V I N C E T 

Poem: Thy Prisoner

Chapter Fourteen

THE HANGING MAN 

Poem: The Candle Dance

Chapter Fifteen

THE MARACAIBO 

Epilogue Poem: The Whispered Pardon

(Rhyming riddle-me-ree of the last Civil War battle on English Soil)

* * *

Authentically written in a 17th century

style of the unique Daniel Defoe

Daniel Defoe took an active part in the

West Country rebellion circa 1685

The search of a 12-year-old maid for

her natural mother and stepfather

complicated further when she finds her

Mother was a known woman buccaneer

Anne o’ the Indies and her marriage of

convenience to Bristol born Ned Teach

better known as Blackbeard the pirate

The 17th century was a turbulent

time and the maid Clarissa and her

guardian Miss Wilks realise as they ride

the Exeter Post Chaise that the proposed

landing in Lyme of the Duke of Monmouth

and his intent restoring the Protestant

Crown would complicate matters, heralding

the beginning of the infamous rebellion.

Miss Martha Wilks’ mission is to

safely transport a royal whispered pardon

document clandestinely afforded to the

pirate King, Captain Henry Morgan, which

originated from his Monarch Charles II

DEDICATION

To Louis Chavasse, late descendant of the French Huguenots

My Son, Stephen Michael

And for my daughter, Claire Louise, on whom the tale was partly

based when she was mischievous twelve year-old – which she still is!

ACKOWLEDGEMENTS

I wish to acknowledge the assistance from several persons and places.

These include:

The Curator of Bridport Museum, Bridport, Dorset

Flagship Commander King’s Navy Fleet, Flagship HMS VICTORY

Portsmouth, Hampshire

Sarah Harbridge, Curator

Bridgwater Museum, Bridgwater, Somerset.

Curator, Taunton Museum, Taunton, Somerset.

Lyme Regis Experience,

The Promenade

Lyme Regis (Very helpful in their brief existence. )

Lyme Regis Philpot Museum, The Buddle, Dorset.

And to the late Stanley Hardy Jones of Uphill Village he who built the mini-tower computer for the author on which the ripping yarn was finally compiled and written.

Stan and I had many a carousing evening swapping tales of derring-do and drinking real ale at Uphill’s ‘Dolphin’ tavern. According to June his widow, Stan was allegedly the illegitimate son of the comedy film star, Stan Laurel. This has yet to be proven.

The search of a 12 year-old maid for

her natural mother and stepfather, is

complicated further when she finds her

mother was a known woman buccaneer,

‘Anne o’ the Indies’ and her marriage of

convenience to Bristol born Ned Teach,

better known as ‘Blackbeard the Pirate.’

The 17th century was a turbulent

time and the maid, Clarissa and her

guardian, Miss Wilks realise as they ride

the Exeter Post Chaise that the proposed

landing in Lyme Regis of the Duke of

Monmouth and his intent of restoring the

Protestant crown would complicate matters,

especially, as it heralds the beginning of the

infamous West Country Pitchfork rebellion…

Miss Martha Wilks’ mission is to safely

transport a Royal whispered pardon

document, clandestinely afforded to the

pirate king, Captain Sir Henry Morgan,

originating from his monarch, King Charles II.

‘’T H E D R A G O N N A D E’ is defined in English dictionaries as: ‘The persecution of Huguenots Protestants in France during the reign of Louis X1V by means of an army of dragoons quartered upon them: a persecution by means of dragooned troops’ French monarch le Roi Soleil expounded his fervour hearing news that a new Catholic king was about to ascend the English throne. Enthusiastically, offered huge sums of money in the guise of bursaries and loans. Also a substantial bounty in cash if the new English Catholic king would prevent English Privateers, notorious sea devils based in the Indies; from attacking Spanish fleet galleons bearing gold and silver ingots from Peru and the Potosi mines in the New World.

* * *

On February 6th 1685 Charles II was declared dead: ‘The King is dead long live the King,’ unfortunately England’s regal monarch left behind him no legitimate heir or bloodline successor. King Charles II was popularly thought by the public to have been poisoned by his brother, James, Duke of York. Rumours abound progenitors of royal bastards, from a succession of mistresses, might though: therefore only his brother, constitutionally could lay any seriously assertive claim to ascend the English Throne.

James had an impressive reputation as a fighting admiral during the 1st & 2nd Dutch Wars; he also proved a worthy naval administrator. In fact James was a natural successor at any given time to ascend the English throne. Professing publicly to be a Roman Catholic, James II when crowned King and was firmly ensconced, made it known he would punish co-religions and the more conventional traditions of England’s Sunday church services. This was a direct threat to the hard-won Civil War rulings earlier that century, also subsequently the restoration of the English Monarchy by way of the exiled Charles II in 1660 some three years after the death of Oliver Cromwell and his English Republic. Legal edicts against foreign intervention or influence, though ancient, were still enforceable back to the times of Henry VIII then Elizabeth 1. Some thought this would encourage King Louis XIV of France to intervene in the running of the country from across the English Channel. Le Roi Soleil, the sun king, was to enforce later that same year in October 1685, his revocation of the ‘Edict of Nantes’ by driving out of France any Protestant Huguenots. Many of these refugees ended up in the Pool of London, consolidating in SOHO – for this was their war cry and motto…

James II found he might have bitten off more than he could chew and endeavouring to govern a more turbulent England than under his brother oft fondly referred to by the people as, ‘Good King Charlie.’ Now made distinctly difficult by his declaring it to be wholly Roman Catholic and directly Papal in its new doctrines with regard to England’s religion. James counted on a distinct lack of unrest or divided public opinion due to wearying of a war torn land under Oliver Cromwell and his Civil Wars of the 1640s. The country, after the Interregnum, recovered well under renewed auspices and reign of Charles II, to find a short time later the upheaval process was starting all over again.

King Charles II turned England’s fortunes around under the dastardly liaison with the Jamaica-based known pirate, Captain Henry Morgan. Nobleman and knave then agreed a dark liaison under Letters-of-Marque, Patent and Reprisal documents.

Secretly three new treasure ships were built at Bucklers Hard on the Beaulieu estate on the Hamble estuary, Hampshire. A fleet of 3-tiered chequerboard Dutch design vessels to ferry one-sixth of captured gold, silver and jewels from Port Royal to England. Booty and loot stolen on the high seas by Morgan and his fleet of pirate Brigs, shares of spoils for Charles by sailing a one-sixth war chest share back to swell Royal coffers. Plundering of foreign merchantmen and the more heavily armed fighting man-o’-war galleons of the marauding French or Spanish, definitely had to cease forthwith under the auspices of the new Catholic king. James II certainly did not wish to incur royal wrath of the hot-blooded Latins. Also having to consider the wishes of his Catholic wife, Mary of Modena, his second wife, whom he married a few years earlier in 1673. At the time this marital union caused an outcry in the House of Commons. Popular opinion debated the possibility of a male heir-laying claim to the throne of England, especially as Catholicism would make it likelihood for it to be permanently restored as the main religion of the land.

* * *

Strip away romance of pirates and sea devils to show them for what they really are.

Remove fancy titles they afford themselves - Barbary Corsairs, Buccaneers, Freebooters (from the Dutch ‘Vrijuiter’) even more respectable affectation of ‘Privateer’ licensed by the government of the day: underneath these varying guises you will find common thieves and murderers. Dispel visions of moonlit seas and a tilting galleon under full sail held back from a forward speed by drag barrels in fishing nets, with dark souls with murder in their hearts hiding out of sight in her gunwales. Destroy too any thoughts of their ship bearing silently down on a gaff-rigged sloop or Dutch flute - for this was the wicked ways of bloodthirsty pirates on the high seas.

Pirates (‘peirates’ from the Greek meaning ‘adventurers who attacks shipping’) were the first employers to invent medical insurance policies for their crews. Ship’s captains or their commanding officers, ships surgeon and deck officers, right down to the lowly powder monkeys who refurbished ordnance below on the gun decks, all were entitled to a share of spoils. Stipulated also in the chronicled writing of ships’ papers which clearly listed right of recompense for injuries sustained in sea battles:

Loss of right arm 600 pieces of Eight or six slaves;

Loss of a left arm was 500 pieces of Eight or five slaves,

a left leg 400 pieces of Eight or a four-slave alternative.

For an Eye 100 pieces of Eight or one slave - loss of a Finger

was classed as the same as for an Eye.

The only thing asked of a pirate crew was their total loyalty. Neither should they individually nor collectively conceal booty, nor try to abscond from the ship, either act would result in the perpetrator being evicted from the pirate community or worse still - death by garrotte.

Pirate king, Captain Sir Henry Morgan was once sent to England to stand trial for piracy. When news of his successful sacking of the world’s most prestigious gold and silver trading mart Panama City, became general known, Morgan, it is chronicled, became more popular than Francis Drake. Despite his going to trial then a spell in the Tower of London, in due course the pirate returned to Jamaica sent on his way by a grateful King Charles II.

When the 3rd Dutch war broke out, Morgan was made deputy Governor of Jamaica and knighted, ascending to the honourable title of Sir Henry Morgan. Good king Charlie presented him with a silver snuffbox with his image portrayed, the chased filigree silver lid whose perimeter was encrusted with diamonds. Morgan again began his privateering for king Charles II. In the name of England and her many colonies, the pirate king’s fleet of ships continued to roam the seas around such places as, Maracaibo, Puerto Principe, Portobello, Panama, Cartegena, Tortuga, Isle la Vache and nearby Hispaniola.

Edward Teach, widely known as ‘Blackbeard the Pirate,’ hailed from the port of Bristol and was purportedly an acquaintance of Henry Morgan. Yet by roaming further afield their paths rarely crossed, when they did, Morgan begged a favour from his old adversary and piratical comrade in arms. Black Ned, when next he reaches England, requested that he is to locate and transport back a documented pardon afforded him by the late King Charles II. Reward will be a velvet purse containing 2,000 silver pieces of eight. Black Ned Teach acknowledges Morgan is in a position to honour this promise as rumours abound the Pirate King had taken 400,000 pieces of eight from the sacked Panama. Therefore he so saw no reason to doubt the generous amount on the table. Infamous scoundrels such as Stede Bonnet, Calico Jack Rackham, Bellamy and likewise the aforementioned Edward Teach, did their Privateering along the American coastline from Boston to Vera Cruz in the south.

It was on one of these piratical cruises that Black Ned Teach spied and admired the woman pirate known as Anne Bonny, her birth name Anne Bone. Anne eventually renounced her then penniless sailor husband James Bone, for the handsome, dashing and much more infamous pirate called ‘Calico’ Jack Rackham. A port liaison ensued and resulted in Anne sailing off to sea with Rackham to become the world’s first woman pirate. The only other chronicled woman pirate was a Mary Reid. Soon Anne’s reputation preceded her and raw courage in hand to hand fighting while capturing a merchantman prize went before…

Becoming known as, ‘Anne o’ the Indies’- Rackham persuaded her to dress as a man cruising the Indies, a trip that turned out to be one of hell-fire piracy and debauchery. All went well, despite the pickings being scarce; they had fared reasonably on the high seas. However, within months Anne found she ‘was with child’ and Rackham coldly placed her ashore in Cuba. Anne decided to go to England for safe haven, and this was where her baby girl was born in the name of Clarissa Lovelace. Later that same year Anne met and fell in love with Ned Teach and in a small church in the port of Dartmouth, she tied the knot. After the ceremony, Ned was shanghaied by a press gang as he left the church, dragged off to be forcibly pressed into service with the king’s navy and a fighting Man o’ War leaving port that night.

Anne Teach, nee Bonny, diligently looks after her little maid Clarissa, but eventually tiring of the long wait for Ned’s return arranged for a guardian and friend of the family to look after the maid. Financial provision was made for the child’s welfare and a Miss Martha Wilks the one chosen to look after her. When Clarissa Lovelace is eight years old, Anne leaves to find either Black Ned Teach, her erring husband of just a few hours all those years ago, or even ‘Calico’ Jack as an alternative. So the woman pirate slipped away to sea and reverted to her to her former name of Anne Bonny, better known to the naval authorities as the woman pirate, ‘Anne o’ the Indies.’

At 12 years old, some four years later, Clarissa Peach (thought not to link her with her piratical parent Teach) became curious about her missing mother and stepfather.

On behalf of a loyal courtier clerk, D’Arcy Ingrams approached a Miss Martha Wilks, agent of the crown to the late king, persuading her to deliver a document to Morgan known in royal circles as the ‘Whispered Pardon.’ This sealed parchment from the late Charles II. It was to be delivered to Captain Sir Henry Morgan in Jamaica – transported by Post Chaise to an hostelry known as the Olde Shippe Inne, at Uplyme in Dorset. From there via Black Ned Teach on his ship, ‘Maracaibo’ – to the Indies.

Miss Wilks, deciding the time was ripe for the maid to meet her stepfather again, mayhap discovering more recent whereabouts of her mother, Anne; agrees to deliver the document by way of the Exeter stage enroute to Lyme Regis in Dorset. In so doing, Martha Wilks decides to take the child on the stage journey with her, and thus the maid began the adventure of a lifetime…

The spinster Martha Wilks and the young maid Clarissa Lovelace Peach’s stagecoach journey, corresponds in June 1685 with rumours of a possible landing in Lyme Regis of an army of rebel soldiers. James, Duke of Monmouth, coerced by England’s disgruntled aristocracy, is prised out of a comfortable exile in the Dutch Free States with his uncle king William, The Hague’s Stadtholder, William of Orange.

The Duke of Monmouth was to attempt a rebellion and was promised finances and ordnance backing from the select number of Protestant Royalists in England, providing he attempted to regain the English crown on behalf of the loyal and the free. William of Orange, Stadtholder of the united provinces, encouraged the intrigues, contributing by revealing the plot to James. The wily William offered to land an army on the West coast of England to quell and crush any revolt or rebellion against him. But this possibly was a ploy to join forces with Monmouth’s army in Dorset, assisting also the Earl of Argyle’s attempt at a pincer movement by landing up country on the coastline of Scotland.

Henry Morgan was in the Dutch Free States having his portrait painted by the then little known artist, Rembrandt. He also awaits news of Monmouth and the outcome of his rebel invasion of England. Henry Morgan has mused whether to commit his fleet of pirate vessels to the Protestant cause of Monmouth. Another facet of reasoning behind sending Black Ned Teach over to England; this apart from the pardon document which would clear his name, and restore the pirate king’s reputation as a fervently loyal patriot - should the rebel war be seen to be won on the land.

* * *

This is where we pick up the story.

OLDE ENGLISHE GLOSSARY

* * *

Chapter One

L E T T E R S - O F - M A R Q U E

Huddled ‘round the log fires smoke, tales of old `bout Ships of Oak

Clay pipes lit, an ale or two, dancing flames in smoke so blue

Air flung with adventure tales, of crashing seas & Force Nine gales

Flagstones smooth, cold to thy feet, be countered by the log fire’s heat

Tankards clash o’er an ale or two, as clay jar swings from me to you

Odours of ‘Baccy, Rum and Snuff, bright twinkling eyes so proven tough

A hook, a stump, and there a patch, brass buckles shine as I lift the latch…

Laughter & songs all known so well, fair near drowned the old Ship’s bell

It drifted in upon a breeze, calling us Shipmates to ‘Seven Seas’

T’was over now and time to go, our voices died as we made to row…

Aboard the longboat swinging ‘fro, oars-a-creaking keeping low

‘Heads down lads no redress; remembering allus the Exciseman’s Bess?’’

The Jolly Roger be flying clear, as we approach shipping oars for fear

Of fouling gunwales, gunports t’boot, then piped aboard to drum & flute

Longboat stowed, anchors aweigh, dawn caresses a bright new day

Lusty shouts from a distant headland, sails a-cracking they fall & stand

Musket fire rips a sheet, our returning cannon denies defeat…

Men in the rigging, our sails unfurl, bows a-whipping surf to a curl

Privateering begins in many a way, ‘tis a normal start to my kind of day

This be the life, ye keep thy quill, thinking them lines fair makes one ill!

Feel o’ ‘Doubloons’ ‘Ducats’ & ‘Eight’ - caring little for the ‘morrow’s fate!

Mors Vincet (Death Wins) Pirate’s motto

* * *

The effervescent hiss of raindrops drummed continuously on the smooth shiny flagstones of the courtyard of the hostelry known as the Blind Beggar Inn. Above its recently thatched roof, barbed veins of forked lightning tore from charcoal grey clouds and these moving veils chased reverberating claps of springtime thunder. A stiffening wind began to moan a lament, laying emphasis to England’s unseasonably cool April climate; it was this inclement combination that hastened early nightfall.

The rain-drenched drover of a nearby racing mail Post Chaise, yanked the collar of his brown greatcoat upright against a worsening squall. Galloping horses of the stagecoach nudge-bumped into each other with near exhaustion as their drumming hooves pounded a dirt road in the middle distance. Wiping rainwater droplets from his eyes, the coachman decided it might be prudent to take an early stopover and allow the worst of the still gathering storm to pass. Deciding on a nearby hostelry at the edge of Kings Wood, knowing that which, by seventeenth century precepts; was a spacious detached modern building. It lay under a steeply pitched roof, while its Tudor style black-beamed design and panelling looked freshly painted with a creamy distemper. It contained five spartan furnished bedchambers, a galleried walkway that overlooked the common dining area. But mine host did not object to bona fide’ travellers slumping where they sat over his well-scrubbed tables, providing they had paid for a hot meal and mayhap had consumed copious amounts of red wine or brackish watered down hop ale.

A broad tunnel under the tiered frontage of the building allowed access into a flag-stoned courtyard at the rear, then within this inner sanctum the royal Exeter mail coach and its team of four black horses cantered in to rest up overnight…

Almost unnoticed a gangling rider on a black stallion trotted in soon after, thus to dismount in a shadowy corner of the stableyard. His restless animal appeared irritated being abandoned by its master. Ignoring the skittish mood of the bloodline Arab beast, by attaching its halter to an iron ring affixed to the wall of an outbuilding. There the horse would remain for attendance of the hostler’s boy, this on concluding his other stable yard duties, which as now; included sweeping up windblown straw. Moments later the callow youth stood alongside the hostler to service the snorting team, which clattered into the cobblestoned yard all, flecked with journeying mud…

The man in black leaned casually against an outbuilding door to snort cheap snuff from a filigree chaise silver snuffbox, there intending to make the acquaintance of one of the passengers whom he’d been advised was a Miss Martha Wilks.

He sported a black silk tricorn hat and lengthy riding cloak, scuffed thigh-length boots, and broad leather belt secured a claret-coloured three-quarter-length tunic coat. A white lace ruff also spilled out of his high collar. His informant advised the contact was a middle-aged schoolteacher guardian travelling with a young female companion aged twelve years. This affiliation made them easy to locate as the rider spied the passing coach from a low hillock earlier that day.

Wearily, five passengers alighted with some difficulty due to stiffness incurred from their bone-shaking journey partway up-country from Exeter in Devon. This stopover would be one of their last overnight stays before ongoing the narrow highways first to Bristol then onto the broad Capital of London town.

Furtively shifty-eyed, the lone rider had the appearance of road agents, a highwayman who made it his business to check on the opulent appearance of any coach passengers prior to considering robbery. Indeed there was little point in holding up a stagecoach with prisoners and their armed guards heading for debtor’s prisons such as Bedlam or Newgate. Years earlier, when he had ended up shooting it out with two well-armed guards, he had been lucky to escape with his life and luxury of a continuing liberty. Now sensibly disguised against discovery of his past, he allowed himself relaxation to stay at the Blind Beggar the night before any robbery took place, mainly because it was a known stopover for regular stagecoaches and their unsuspecting occupants.

A black leather patch pulled down over one eye was enough to disguise his sallow bony facial features, mainly because this would be the only thing the terrified occupants would recall after being road-robbed of valuables. Only this time the robber held prior knowledge that one particular passenger was carrying something of great import. A parchment document with the Great Parliamentary Seal for the pirate king himself, one Captain Henry Morgan. Signed and sealed by a clandestine decree from the Rump Parliament and late king Charles II and certainly not the newly enthroned Catholic monarch, King James II, who ascended the throne in February?

The secreted document was to be a royal pardon for misdemeanours of the pirate king, his cronies and probably actually worth a small fortune to any third party. Disparaging cries came a day earlier from this motley bunch of sea devils, who had gathered at the coastal ‘Shippe Inn’ near the village of Uplyme, in Dorset; there to accept delivery from a known ‘tho clandestine female courier go-between. Only he, Jess Mandrake, the known road robber would be allowed to intercept this document from the mail coach for its onward safe delivery to Captain Sir Henry Morgan. Their premise - the royal document might merely be bait in a rattrap…

An enormous broad and rosy-cheeked woman, Miss Wilks whose bonnet now part-hid her fleeting glances toward him, clutched eagerly at the hand of a slender young girl. Together they stepped gingerly down into mud and straw covered ground from the cold stark interior of the stagecoach.

Rubbing darkened stubble that which rasped nosily on his chin, Jess Mandrake thought this must surely be his contact and trusted go-between for the royal pardon document. He watched with a nonchalant half-smile as the couple scurried past him to stand in the entranceway of the rear scullery door. He suspected once there she would pause and then turn to look directly at him with her dancing gaze. Anticipating correctly, she obliged his smug musings by even offering him a returning smile…

The highwayman bowed low and doffed his flouncy-feathered black silk hat then noted as she haughtily twirling her red cape up and over her well-rounded shoulders, all the while the woman smirked coyly from underneath wildly fluttering eyelashes.

She dallied momentarily clutching at the tiny hand of the young maiden before attempting to enter the low portals of the tavern.

Suspecting his task might be easier than he first thought, the highwayman made his way forward, pausing as he neared the woman and her curious ward. Cautiously allowing them to enter, he then followed on to await milady’s pleasure but only after he too booked himself in to the hostelry…

* * *

‘Where is thy daughter.’? Mandrake said gulping mouthfuls of coarse bread dipped in the greasy stew platter lying in front of him on the table. The discarded bonnet exposed this dark-eyed woman attentively watching her new acquaintance relish and thus swiftly consume his meal. She was attractive yet overweight. Her rosy cheeks tinged further as she anticipated his advances.

‘We’ll not be disturbed for the maid be exhausted and is now to her bed.’

She sighed further, ‘though she be only my entrusted ward, not bloodkin, yet a more jovial little lass ye could not wish for - indeed I would be mortal proud if she were so - and that’s a true fact, so it is.’

Concluding his meal sometime after hers due to his in-depth questioning, the road robber pushed away his trencher platter to lean comfortably back in the high backed bench settle. Looking about him to gather his thoughts, he then slid quietly towards her on the same polished wooden squab. Others had left, presumably gone to their bedchambers for the night. Annoyingly his surreptitious bony fingers had already searched her brocade travelling valise, unfortunately to no avail. The Letters of Marque and Pardon documents were still conspicuous by the continuing absence. There was nothing he could do except enjoy his overnight stay in a comfortable hostelry four-poster bed.

The Inn had a lived-in feel about it, walls decorated in expensive flock wallpaper and these were tastefully hung with country prints. Ornate beamed ceilings and white alabaster panelling