Armand’s First Letter. Amelia’s First Letter.

27 May 1019
Mont-Havre
Former’s Guild House

My dearest cousin Amelia,

As you can see from my direction I have regained my freedom of movement, at least to a degree. Mont-Havre remains under martial law, and if one ventures out into the streets one must be prepared to state his name and purpose half-a-dozen times—and this just to visit the butcher or the baker. Though I must say that a Cumbrian accent is of great help.

Lord Doncaster came through for us! Though not he himself, indeed; he remains in Cumbria. But His Cumbrian Majesty is unwilling to abandon his realm of Armorica to opportunistic rebels—and Provençese rebels at that—and so at his command Lord Doncaster has sent the fleet along with great strength of marines to take and hold Mont-Havre.

My first inkling of their arrival was the booming of guns—not a bombardment, but something along the lines of a salute fired by every gun in the fleet, as if to say, “We are here now; you will stand down.”

And for the most part they did. The rebels had little support among the citizens of Mont-Havre, save for the members of the constabulary—a constabulary whose numbers have been greatly increased with the worst sort of men. Leon Suprenant tells me that the better sort of men, the majority of the older recruits, had silently left the force over the last weeks, having no stomach for rebellion or violence against peaceful civilians; and the rabble that remained had no desire or ability to stand against his Majesty’s troops.

M. Depillage—I will no longer call him M. Sabot, for that was an honorable nom-de-guerre—came to me shortly after I heard the guns, and said, briefly, “We have lost; the support we were promised has not come. You are free to go.” He then handed me the key to my room, and said, solemnly, “You may wish to barricade yourself in here for a time. I fear things may grow lively.”

And then he was gone.

I waited perhaps an hour before setting out to explore, and to my surprise soon came to a corridor I knew well. M. Depillage had set himself up in the governor’s mansion, where I had so often come to speak with Lord Doncaster, and later, unsuccessfully, to beard Lord Winthrop. I made my way to the governor’s office, which overlooks Durand Square.

The office was abandoned, indeed had already been stripped of all valuables, possibly weeks earlier; but the key was in the lock, and judging M. Depillage’s predictions to be not unfounded I locked myself in, and then settled down to watch events below. There was much scurrying of men hither and thither in the square, and alarming noises; but no one approached my door.

In time a succession of sloops of war came to hang over the square; and these were followed by a column of redcoats winding down the hill from the harbor where their transports had come to rest. Many of the redcoats took up station in ranks before the governor’s mansion, while continued on to secure the city; and one squad found me shortly thereafter.

I shall never grow used to being held at the point of a gun; but that was soon rectified, first by my Cumbrian speech, and second by my name.

“Mr. Tuppenny, is it?” said the Lieutenant. “Admiral Austen wishes to speak with you.”

What followed was all quite tedious; but I was fed and given opportunity to bathe, though not to shift my clothing. I had little enough to tell Admiral Austen, but he nodded when I related M. Depillage’ statement that the expected supported had not come.

“They may still,” he said. “And if so they will find us here. His Majesty has directed us to establish a naval station here at Mont-Havre; he will not leave Armorica undefended again.”

“That’s all very well, provided we do not get another Lord Winthrop,” I said.

The admiral shook his head. “We haven’t found Winthrop, you know. I do not know whether the rebels have killed him, or simply have him locked up somewhere, but he is not here.” He smiled rather sardonically. “Whatever has become of him, I feel certain that his successor will not wish to follow in his footsteps.”

There is little more to report. M. Depillage remains at large, as do many of his more prominent supporters in le Grand Parlement. His Majesty’s troops have rounded up the remainder of the rebellious deputés, those who were fool enough not to flee to the countryside, and freed many who were steadfast against M. Depillage and his blandishments, including my own M. Poincaré.

The port has been opened once more, though under watchful guard, and the ships held here by the rebels have been allowed to leave; and the courier packets are in service once again.

I had feared that friction between His Majesty’s men and the citizenry might lead to a great degree of unpleasantness; it seems that the distaste of the citizenry for the manner and deeds of the recently recruited constables, and even more for the notion of an Armorican order of nobility, has meant that the sailors and marines have been met warmly and with cheers rather than otherwise.

Mind you, I foresee no little public drunkenness and a great degree of brawling in the vicinity of the new naval base; we shall simply need to grow used to that, I suppose.

And now we wait to see if the Provençese rebels have sent a force to Armorica.

Your watchful cousin,

Armand

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