Andrew Swanston - The King's Exile

After a frugal supper — he had always tried not to overindulge while working on a problem — Thomas went reluctantly to the bedroom prepared for him. He did not expect much sleep. A mind stimulated by eight hours of thinking and figuring does not readily submit to sleep and it was not until the early hours that he eventually nodded off.

He was awoken at dawn by a knocking on the door. Squinting against the morning light, he managed a gruff ‘Enter’ and was rewarded by the sight of a plump girl bearing a tray.

‘Good morning, sir. I’m Annie. I’ve brought your breakfast. Shall I put it on the table?’

‘Thank you, Annie.’ Annie put the tray down, and came over to the bed. It was a large bed, equipped with cushions for the head and a light cotton sheet. In Barbados, no more was needed.

‘His lordship says I’m to ask if there’s anything else you might want,’ said Annie. Thomas opened his eyes fully and looked at her. His lordship says that, does he? he thought. Whatever can he mean? She was pretty enough in her way. About twenty, blonde and buxom. Built for comfort rather than conversation.

Annie smiled encouragingly. ‘Anything that might help with your work, he said.’

Thomas hesitated. ‘I am, er, a little unpractised, Annie.’

Annie giggled. ‘Don’t you worry about that, sir. Just you lie back and let Annie take care of things.’ And having slipped out of her smock, Annie joined Thomas on the bed.

An hour later, breakfast forgotten, Annie had carried out his lordship’s instructions with the utmost diligence. ‘Well, Annie,’ said Thomas, stretching out while she dressed, ‘let’s hope your contribution to our efforts proves successful. I certainly feel better for it.’

‘That’s good, sir. If you need any more help with your work just send a message to the kitchen. Now better eat your breakfast. Goodbye, sir.’

By the time he had eaten two cold cutlets, a chunk of bread and a piece of cheese, all washed down with good ale, Thomas was ready to return to the message. Something was nagging at his mind. What was it? He thought of Abraham Fletcher, cruelly murdered by Rush. Abraham and he used to amuse themselves by sending each other encrypted and coded messages and challenging the other to break them. Was this a cipher one of them had used? Or had he come across it elsewhere?

He looked again at the text. He would begin on double substitutions, each letter being encrypted alternately with each substitution. A double substitution would render the double FF’s and the repetitions of JP irrelevant, and would be laborious to unravel. A shortcut would be useful. As he had told Lord Willoughby, military messages seldom carried names but if this one did, it would most probably be the name of the sender and would appear at the end. He should have thought of it earlier; it was worth a try. He would assume that the letters AORDTG were AYSCUE, and proceed from there. If he was wrong, he would soon find out and not much time would have been wasted.

It took all day, but, by evening, he had done it. The letters AORDTG did indeed represent AYSCUE and two substitutions had been used. No nulls and no misspellings.

Thomas’s second chart revealed the substitutions:

A double Caesar shift, named after the man who had used it to send reports home to Rome when on campaign in Gaul or Germania, using the five vowels to make the shift, in the first substitution at the beginning of the alphabet and in the second at the end. Easy to remember and for the sender and recipient easy to encrypt and decrypt. His lordship’s advisers could not be very experienced cryptographers and he was cross with himself for not having thought of this cipher earlier.

He went to find Willoughby’s steward, who showed him into the library where his lordship was enjoying some refreshment. ‘Master Hill, good evening. Will you take a glass of madeira? Better news, I trust.’

‘Thank you, my lord, I should enjoy a glass. And better news there is.’

As the steward poured his drink, Thomas handed Willoughby the message written out in plain English text. His lordship read it aloud.

‘To Modyford. Confirm strength of your force and state of readiness. Our landings will follow immediately after your declaration. We shall have the advantage of numbers and, God willing, we shall prevail. Ayscue.’

‘Are you sure of this?’

‘Quite sure, your lordship. It turned out to be a double substitution based upon moving the vowels to the beginning and the end of the encryption alphabets.’

Willoughby beamed at him. ‘Then you have done us all a considerable service.’

‘I regret that it took so long, my lord. I was a little out of practice.’

‘No matter. This has come as no surprise. Colonel Modyford’s loyalties have always been in doubt. At least now we know where we stand and we have time to take steps. Had it been otherwise we might have found ourselves trapped.’

‘I am pleased to have been of service, my lord.’

‘And you shall be rewarded for it. You shall dine with me tonight and return to the Lytes tomorrow,’ he said, adding with a discreet cough, ‘I do hope you’ve found our hospitality to your liking.’

‘Indeed, my lord. A little more of the same would be most welcome.’

That evening, an effusive Willoughby promised to help him find passage home as soon as possible and appointed him in the meantime to the position of principal secretary to the governor. Taken by surprise, Thomas delicately enquired as to the position of the present principal secretary.

‘I find that one can’t have too many secretaries, Thomas. Rest assured, I shall find you plenty to do and I shall send for you when I need you. My valet has selected some appropriate clothes for you. After dinner you must try them on. We have a seamstress who will alter them for you, my figure being somewhat more substantial than yours.’

After an excellent dinner, a restful night and more help from Annie, Thomas, now principal secretary to Lord Willoughby, rode back to the Lytes’ estate. With Willoughby’s personal support, surely there would be no more disappointments and it would not be long before he boarded a ship for England.

1652

The news of Colonel Modyford’s declaration for Parliament was not long in coming and when it did it altered the balance of power, giving Ayscue a small advantage in numbers.

Willoughby immediately sent word to Captain Brown to hurry south with the three hundred men under his command. He did not now have the resources to split his strength and the defending army could no longer hope to hold its line in the south. It withdrew speedily to a position prepared on a plateau between two ridges above Oistins.

From the plateau, Willoughby could look out over Oistins to the sea beyond. Low hills protected his east wing and a sharp drop down to the town protected his west wing and rear. The enemy could only attack from his front. When Thomas had decrypted the message, Willoughby had made sure that he controlled the road from Bridgetown, thus preventing Modyford from cutting off his withdrawal. Had he been trapped in the town there would have been no escape. Bridgetown and Oistins harbours had to be left undefended, enabling Ayscue to land his troops the following day. He was met by Modyford and together they marched to face Willoughby.

When both sides had assembled, a force of about eighteen hundred men and two hundred horse led by Francis, Lord Willoughby of Parham, faced another with two thousand men and three hundred horse under the command of Admiral Sir George Ayscue.