Destitute On His Doorstep by Helen Dickson

Walter?’ she asked, drawing the conversation away from his injury.
    His eyes clouded as they looked into the distance. ‘His allegiance was for the King.’
    â€˜I see. That must have caused a rift in your family.’
    â€˜At first it did, but he did his duty as he conceived it must be done.’
    â€˜And where is he now?’
    â€˜In France, with other Royalist fugitives.’
    â€˜And will you hold it against him—that he chose the other side?’
    He shook his head, his voice low and steady whenhe spoke, but there was an unconcealed pain in the depths of his eyes when he remembered the heartrending moment when he had watched Walter leave their home to fight for the King.
    â€˜No. He is my brother first and foremost. There were many things in which he and I could never be in agreement, but his politics are his affair and I respect that. He is a good soldier and a man of honour. The decision he took was a difficult one, but both Richard and I understood that he fought the war because, like us, he believed in the principles for which it stood.’
    â€˜I can see how close you were as a family for it not to come between you. Did you ever meet in battle?’
    â€˜No. I thank God we were spared that.’
    â€˜And your father was a farrier.’
    Francis laughed at her ignorance. ‘No. The farrier, John Russell, was my uncle. I was brought up at Russell House not far from Cambridge. My father was a horse breeder—indeed, he had some of the finest horses in England.’
    Jane looked at him with sudden interest. ‘And is that what you do? I saw some fine horses in the paddock on my way here. I confess I was curious as to how they came to be there. Most of our horses were requisitioned by Parliament at the onset of the war. Others were stolen. We did not have the means to replace them. I suppose if we had, while ever the war continued they would have been seized, so what was the point?’
    â€˜It is true that horses were always in short supply and were an extremely attractive item of booty. Cavalry and carters needed them. Horses were stolen, by bothRoyalists and Parliamentarians, and they were hard to identify and almost impossible to recover.’
    â€˜I thank God the war is over, but I am saddened by the outcome. So many lives were lost. The King made mistakes,’ she went on quietly, ‘but our loyalty was to him to the end. The day Englishmen murdered their King is a day to remember for ever. God save King Charles II,’ she murmured under her breath.
    Soft as her voice was, Francis heard her. ‘My brother in France will share your sentiments—and I, too, in some ways. I had no desire to take the King’s life. In the beginning thousands of young men set off for the Civil War full of that innocent enthusiasm with which so many before, and will do again, have welcomed the prospect of battle. Few had much idea of the reality of war. Brought up in a relatively peaceful society, they were totally unprepared for the military discipline, the physical exhaustion, the divided loyalties, the emotional strain, the loneliness, and, above all, the violence of combat. War is not some glorious adventure. It is a ruthless, bloody business inflicting suffering on thousands of people. I hope never to endure the like again.’
    â€˜I’m sure you do, and I imagine you hope your brother will eventually find his way home from France so you can be united as a family again.’
    â€˜If he were to do so now, he would be arrested, so it is my hope that he remains in France for the time being. He will be safe enough there. Tomorrow my brother Richard and his wife Elizabeth will arrive to spend some time at Bilborough. I have not seen them for some considerable time so it should be a joyous occasion. Elizabeth was Elizabeth Merton before she married Richard. I thinkyou will remember the family. The Merton family still live in the manor house outside