As Meat Loves Salt

The troops had been ordered to conduct themselves in a Christian manner, to carry nothing away nor cause any nuisance or harm to the citizens, provided we were entertained without resistance and not obliged to assault the place. We waited, armed and ready, at the city gate while Cromwell summonsed the Mayor, one Longland, and demanded access into the city ‘to save it and the inhabitants from ruin’.

Word went round that Longland had half an hour in which to reply. Men picked lice from their bodies, rubbed their hands and stamped against the cold, while I fixed my mind on standing upright so as not to be trampled should we go in by force.

After a short time Longland returned to the gate, bringing the civil reply that the place was not his to yield up, but was in the gift of the Governor, Sir William Ogle, and that he himself would undertake to bring Ogle to it.

At this Cromwell would tarry no longer, and we burst in regardless of what Ogle might do or say. Their men barely resisted, so that the whole army was got in without hurt.

‘Sit here,’ said Ferris, leading me to a low wall. ‘If challenged, you are too sick to move. I will find out where you should go.’ He pushed through the mass of soldiers towards the nearest officers. I sat head in hands, wondering if I should die there without having seen action.

‘Rupert.’ Ferris was back and plucking at my arm. ‘They are laying the sick and wounded in a church near here. We must get you in.’

I rose, dazed, and allowed him to lead me where he would. Men were swarming like ants through the streets.

‘Ogle has shut himself up in the castle,’ Ferris went on. ‘So it’s to be siege, after all. I won’t be able to watch out for you.’

He was short of breath. I clung to him, afraid that once fallen, I would never rise again.

‘Don’t lean on me, you’ll have me down,’ he gasped. We staggered along; once I slipped on the cobbles and Ferris swore at me. At last I heaved myself up some steps and through the pointed archway of God’s house. I heard Ferris cry, ‘Help here, I beg of you,’ before I sank onto the flags of the church.

During the siege I lay on a hurdle, taking nothing but sips of beer and the odd spoonful of pease which someone gave me. At times methought I was talking to Zeb. At others I was with Caro, and newly espoused. I must have said something blushworthy, for the man who was in charge of tending the wounded grinned at me whenever he saw me after. Ferris told me later that the second day of the bombardment was a Sunday, which had boggled them somewhat at first, until Hugh Peter, chaplain to the train of General Fairfax, led them in prayer and preaching even as the artillery was set off. In the midst of this I lay drifting in and out of fever, perhaps coaxing the attendant with the honeyed words of courtship.

When I came to my right reason I first saw the roof far above me,its carvings and gilt. There was a stench of blood and other foulness in my nostrils, and on turning my head I saw a line of sick and wounded laid along the nave. Their screams and prayers echoed from the walls of the church, then slackened to an exhausted muttering. Camp followers, wives and women who passed for wives, wept over the flayed and shattered bodies they were come to nurse; men crazed with pain called on long-dead mothers who could once kiss a hurt away. Near me one panted as if from a hard fight, while on my other side a man wailed something I could not interpret, the words twisting into a howl as the pain opened up in him. From time to time a young lad, burnt and slashed into fever, gabbled hoarsely to ‘Jim’.

A cracked bell chimed as the ground shook under us. That was the guns going off, and I thought at once of Ferris. Raising myself a little, I saw one of the attendants bent over a man nearby. At first with my dry mouth I could not raise my voice above a whisper, so I slapped on the ground with my hand. He came over at once, and I was just able to make myself heard.

‘Friend, what day is this?’ I croaked.

‘A great one, for you,’ he replied. ‘I never thought to hear you speak again.’

‘But how long is it since I came in?’

‘Three days, four.’ He went off and came back with a cup of some herb. As I wetted my burning throat, he added, ‘Your mate’ll be glad to see you come through.’