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The
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Francis Drake's Story! :- Chapter X: Ups and Downs through Kent! One
day as we were nearing Tonbridge, we stopped to rest near Sir Andrew Judde's
School for boys. A group of the scholars were passing and warned us of a column of rebels
approaching. They said that there were some natural springs to the south of Speldhurst and Southborough which
attracted travellers to their healing waters. It was from here that the column
was approaching. Seeing our plight they suggested Master
Proctor was pleased to receive our news and offered us
food and dry beds for the night - Heaven! We were also treated to a further
slice of heaven in the shape of another visitor - a travelling minstrel complete
with Lute. This man, named Domenico, (Most people called him Louis!) was a
highly skilled artist. His instrument, made by him, was also a splendid work of art.
As part-recompense for his
welcome in the
school he entertained us all royally with music and songs he had composed
himself. Some of them were a little saucy, others more than a little
political, but most were love songs The following morning Louis had departed before we arose. After a breakfast with the Master and his scholars we set off northward. No sooner had we started when a troop of horsemen galloped up and snatched our horse, along with Mama, the children and Liz, and rode off towards Paddock Wood. Papa, Adam, Sam and Francis were stunned at the speed of the attack. Whilst we were still in shock a troop of rebel 'Whitecoats' appeared and demanded to know what we were about. They quickly seized the remainder of our food supplies, took our weapons including Adam's longbow, and forced us to pull their heavy cannon along the rutted and muddy steeply climbing road through Hildenborough and up the Weald past Knole House and park towards Sevenoaks. "Get on that rope and pull the gun, big boy" ( they actually called him Yiddish scum, but we're reluctant to repeat this offensive remark) was their bullying command to Adam. We had no option but to obey, and help our friend. Relentlessly and forcibly we were driven along hauling the heavy and wayward gun, mile after laborious mile. Nearing the top of a steep incline one of the ropes broke and the big gun started to slip back. One of the overseers rushed forward, shouting and swearing, and tried to arrest the slide by gripping one of the wheels. The weight of the gun inexorably slid back and over the man's leg. Their was an ominous cracking and grinding sound as the heavy weapon crushed his foot and broke his leg. He screamed with pain and fell to the ground in a dead faint. Adam used all his immense strength to hold the cannon. He yelled for wooden wedges to be placed under the wheels while a new rope was attached. He then rushed to the aid of the injured young man, cleaning and binding his wounds, and supporting his leg with a makeshift splint until a doctor could be found. Carrying the casualty on a litter, we struggled on until we reached the outskirts of Orpington. On the way we were joined by hundreds of fighters, all heading towards London, to unseat Queen Mary, chanting "A Wyatt, A Wyatt, We are all Englishmen". One of these men, a young surgeon, attended to the injured leg and foot of the rebel accident victim. The surgeon complimented Adam on his alacrity and skill, declaring that without this prompt action the lad would almost certainly have lost his leg, and maybe his life. The young rebel was extremely grateful for the attention and from that point the relationship between our group and the rebels was much improved (No more references to Yiddish scum). Several times
our group was attacked by the Queen's forces and many
on both sides were injured or
killed. All the time we were very anxious for our missing ladies and the children, as we had no
news of their
whereabouts or their safety. Eventually we There was a terribly repugnant smell about this large city, with its population of about 90,000. It was obvious that cleanliness and hygiene didn't play much part in the town's existence. The overcrowding of human bodies into dark little wooden houses in dirty streets running with discarded human effluent left an overpowering aroma. There was also a tendency for housewives to throw what they were 'discarding' from bedroom windows on to the heads of any unsuspecting passer-by.
It was a very wet and cold Shrove Tuesday when Thomas Wyatt and his rebel army attacked Ludgate. (This was a very old London Gate. Shh Felix, don't interrupt at such a critical point in the story. Sorry, but visitors may not know this.) And news reached us that he forced his way into the City as far as Fleet Street! But here he was overwhelmed by force of superior numbers. His defeated men joined him at 'La Belle Sauvage' coaching house. The remnants agreed to retreat to Charring Cross and Temple Bar, but they were again savagely set upon and beaten by a powerful Queen's contingent. In the meantime we took advantage of the Rebels' retreat. Released from bondage, we set off to look for the ladies. However, we were recognised (mainly because of Adam's huge frame) and captured by the Queen's forces. We tried in vain to explain that we were forced against our will to collaborate with the rebels. "I know, I know", said a rough looking guard, "Everybody says that gov'. But you'll be eagerly squealing the truth when you get to see the Inquisition", he laughed, as he forced us along. (I can't remember anyone asking us what the truth was. I don't think they cared! It's funny how both sides claim to have a monopoly of this elusive, precious, much fought over, commodity) . . .
Click the vessel's
keel to continue the exciting Francis Drake's Story! :- Chapter XI: A View from The Tower!
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we enter the school for a rest
and tell our story to Mr John Proctor, the Master. We appreciated this gesture and
accepted their thoughtful suggestion. 
in many languages and made tears come to
Mama's eyes. (I suppose he was
the equivalent of our Country and Western pop stars of today!) We were sorry when
it was time to retire to bed and leave his enchanting stories and music.
came to the outskirts of London
to find that we could not cross London Bridge, which was festooned with the
decapitated heads of 'traitors'. The bridge had deliberately been partly demolished and
was
stoutly defended. We were therefore forced to haul the gun further west to cross the river at
Kingston.
