Jermak in England 1

Chapter 1 Autumn 1648



“I suppose you’re some kind of Papist, Colonel Or-zell?” asked the austere de facto leader of the British Parliament. He regarded the, to him, outlandishly dressed young man in amazement. The man wore a gaudy long coat of brocade in golds and browns and black, the split sleeves hanging entirely loose, not merely open with the wrists in the cuffs as some of the more fanciful fashions of the west dictated. Under the hem of this garment might be seen trousers of considerable width, which neither fastened to the knee nor hung with beribboned or lace edges, but tucked into neat, soft boots. His dark hair was in a single lock which hung from the centre of his otherwise shaven head as he doffed the extraordinary fur hat to bow down to the ground, in a very different fashion to the western making of a leg. His sword.... was very workmanlike and large.

“It’s Orzeł, my lord. Eagle, it means. And, my lord, I don’t ask your religion nor make any comment on it, and perhaps you will do me the courtesy to do likewise,” said Jermak. “We both love God; let us leave it at that, for I wager when we both stand before the Almighty, naked and stripped of all human vanity, he will explain to us both how mortal men’s forms of worship fall short of His design, and we shall run, exposed and ashamed, on His mighty palm until we are forgiven the transgressions we repent, and permitted into Paradise. How can any mortal man frame the Almighty in such a way as to comprehend His will? To try to do so is arrogance, and pride, and a deadly sin.”

Cromwell stared. Then he nodded.

“Well spoken, young man; I hear the sincerity in your voice. I like a man who knows his own mind and is not afraid to speak it; your king has chosen well.”

Jermak hid a grin that Prince Jeremi Wiśniowiecki had suggested his name to King Jan Kazimierz, to get Jermak out of the way of Chmielnicki who had taken it into his head that Jermak was some kind of spymaster, because of his ward, Ninochka, sending intelligence to Jeremi.

“I’m a plain, blunt man, my lord, and I believe in plain, blunt speaking,” said Jermak.

“Good; I shall like you the more for it,” said Cromwell. “Your wife, as I understand, is the child of a Royalist.”

“Nominally,” said Grace. “My father, Charles Greville, believed firmly in the divine right of Charles Greville, and it got him poisoned by a Russian Prince. I am a believer in the Royal Commonwealth of Poland-Lithuania, but as a native English speaker, I am of use to my husband. We elect our kings in Poland, from those eligible, which seems more sensible than strict primogeniture. I knew both the deposed king’s young sons, and unless they’ve improved, I wouldn’t trust either of them with the running of more than a whelk stall in Billingsgate.”

A rare smile ghosted across Cromwell’s face.

“They teach you to be forthright in Poland,” he said.

“We’re Polish Cossacks; the word ‘Cossack’ means free man,” said Grace. “In its literal interpretation, not the freed-man of ancient Rome, who was a freed slave. We have a patron in Prince Jeremi Wiśniowiecki, who put forward our names as ambassadors, but for mutual loyalty only. We named our eldest for him.”

“There are others logged as your children who are surely too old for either of you to be parents to?”

“Our adopted children; yes,” said Jermak. “The Tatars raid, and seize young people for slaves. Sadly, many communities will not take them back, declaring them dead, because they cannot cope with the trauma such youngsters have been through. Even those not deflowered. We were in a position to rescue a number. One community took their own back; another ... did not. We split them between my Uncle Osyp and his English wife and ourselves, and also the orphaned daughter of the szlachcic ... the lord ... of the lands I inherited. Kamila and Aleksandra are both fifteen. They are adequate warriors and can take care of themselves. They wish to be as martial as my wife and aunt, who learned to be warriors through your civil war.”

“Women have no place in war,” said Cromwell.

“Tell that to the rapacious soldiers who overrun cities raping, looting and burning,” said Grace.

“My men do not do that.”

“My lord, you are a strong warlord like Prince Jeremi. Not all are,” said Grace, dryly. “I can defend my lord’s lands at need, and my son, and our adopted daughters.”

She did not mention that she disliked Prince Jeremi intensely.

She disliked Cromwell intensely too.

And she suspected that if he thought his soldiers behaved themselves, he was fooling nobody but himself. Soldiers under bloodlust commit acts unthinkable to them outside of war.

“Well, I will assign you a bodyguard, none the less; a man who will be there to help prevent any misunderstandings between different cultures,” said Cromwell, dryly. “I am sure that without some mediation, you may find yourself in more conflicts than you would like.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Jermak. “I enjoy a good brawl, any Cossack does! And if any offend against me who carry steel, I’ve no problem in killing them.”

“I, however, have a problem with you killing them,” said Cromwell. “I don’t say duels don’t happen because they do, but it is to be avoided. As are... brawls. I can find you somewhere to live while you are here...”

“You do not need to bother, we took a house in Watling Street. We liked the look of St. Mary’s Aldermary church; we are sufficiently ecumenical not to make a fuss about the service not being as we are used to,” said Grace.

“And the road is so delightfully narrow, it is defensible,” said Jermak. “Makes me feel safer, somehow.”

Cromwell glared at him. Damned independent Cossacks! They should be grateful t o him for looking after them, not setting themselves up to protect themselves.

“I also have orders from my king to tender apologies to yours that he has been unable to send military support to him, because we have had some trouble at home,” said Jermak. “And you can afford to be generous in permitting me to meet with him, since you wouldn’t be sitting there had we sent a few thousand winged hussars and as many Cossacks to aid him militarily, since we are the pre-eminent warriors in Europe, and the only infantry capable of holding before a winged hussar charge are Cossack infantry. Your pikes are too long to be much good,” he added, “And your muskets too slow to reload. So, we come in diplomacy instead, and the offer to negotiate a settlement between you, as representative of your Sejm... parliament... and your king. As well as to point out that if you prefer to be a republic, we’ve been doing it successfully for a long time, and to offer treaties.”

Cromwell managed not to grind his teeth.

“It is too late for such negotiations, and I cannot think that your troops would have made any difference. I recognise that you exaggerate over sending thousands.”

“Why would I exaggerate?” said Jermak, surprised. “A battle is usually fought by many thousands on each side.”

If this shook Cromwell, he kept it to himself.

“I will consider having you escorted to meet Charles Stuart, former king of England,” he said.





oOoOo



The Poles found the streets to be tense. Soldiers patrolling prevented open violence, but there appeared to be distinct divisions between royalists and parliamentarians, even amongst the common townsfolk. They appeared to be waging war by song. Some young men sneaked up behind the soldiers, and sang, at first all together

Three merry boys came out of the west to make saltpetre strong

They turned it into gunpowder to charge the king’s cannon!

Three merry boys came out of the west to make saltpetre strong

They turned it into gunpowder to charge the king’s cannon!

Then they broke into a round,

And let his health go round and round and let his health go round

And let his health go round and round and let his health go round

Which being repeated several times, a second part came in,

And though my stocking be made of silk my knee shall touch the ground

And though my stocking be made of silk my knee shall touch the ground

Returning to the previous line and finishing in unison,

God bless his majesty

And send him victory

Over his enemies, over his enemies,

All or none. [1]

Jermak was amused by the way they approached to sing their line and then dodged back as the irritated soldiery turned. The soldiers were grim in their buff coats and striped sleeves, and very businesslike helmets, not quite as effective as the hussars’ szyszak helms but for plainly mass-produced pieces of armour, fairly effective.

Some supporters of the soldiery took up singing their own song to try to drown out the royalists, and sang psalms, loudly.

“They aren’t as tuneful as our psalms,” said Grace, critically.

“I love that you are so much one of us as to prefer our psalms,” said Jermak. “No, they don’t seem very jolly, do they?”

The royalists jeered, and countered,

It’s a mad world my masters

Where kings may lose their crowns

And commoners take prominence

Set up yet soon put down.



The captain of the guard appeared to have had enough by now, and called his men to run off the tuneful royalists. One of them dodged around Jermak and his party, and with a flourish, presented Kamila with a cockade from his hat, which he hastily doffed to the women.

“Cheeky,” said Aleksandra.

“Yes, but handsome too,” laughed Kamila. “Like Papa; dashing.”

“I did not care for his manner,” said Aleksandra. “I felt him forward.”

Kamila frowned.

“I know what you mean, but young men can be brash.”.



The guard turned and came up to the small party.

“I trust those ne’er do weels didnae cause ye any throuble,” said the captain. He was a tall, rawboned man in his twenties, with a nose which had been broken at some time, and ginger hair, as might be seen when he doffed his helmet to the ladies. Unlike the beribboned and belaced bravos, his garb was sober in hue, and his piccadill, the broad linen collar, and his cuffs were devoid of lace, though of the finest linen.

“Are they ne’er do wells?” asked Kamila.

“Aye, iphm, being royalists for one thing, and o’ the ilk o’ sich over-indulged wee hellions as cause throuble for the sake o’it,” he replied.

“We’re royalists for our own king,” said Jermak. “We’re Polish; we elect our kings.”

“Weel, if they elected kings here, we’d mebbe no’ hae oor current problems,” said the captain. “If ye need onything, I’m Captain Somerled Macfarlane.”

“Thank you, Captain Macfarlane,” said Jermak. “fairly self-sufficient, but you appear to be having an exciting time of things at the moment.”

“Exciting! Aye, weel, I micht ca’ it ither things, but exciting will mebbe do the noo,” said Macfarlane. “Ye’ll mebbe be the outlandish folks Ah wis tae find and put masel’ at the disposal o’ ye.”

“I think you’ll find we’re ordinary Poles in an outlandish country without need of disposal,” said Jermak.

“Och, I mean that ye may use us for escorts and defence o’ yer household,” said Macfarlane. “It’s easy tae get confused wi’ the factions, and end up inadvertently in trouble.”

“Oh, I believe I understand,” said Jermak. “You’d not want us to be in a situation to attempt to liberate the king from his current gaol and spirit him to rule in exile. That isn’t in my instructions, only to offer him succour in exile if he is permitted to flee the country; or indeed if any of his followers rescue him. Please be aware that I have no desire to rescue a foreign king and thereby risk my family. I’ve no interest in England. If you did the civilised thing of electing your kings, and if my wife were of a royal house to add distinction to our offspring, I’d consider standing for election. But as she is not, I’d be wasting my time.”

“Losh, man! You’ve an awfu’ cheek,” said Macfarlane.

“You never get anywhere without cheek,” said Jermak.






[1] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kzBm0uuPrb0