Rebels.
Being on a ship with Prince Maurice, harrying Cromwell's supply lines to Ireland, certainly earned proceedings as a Traitor and Rebel.
At first when Juliana was marched in to be examined, Tom and Val were taken away to another room. Being separated from their mother traumatised them. She, and the committee, could hear them hysterically screaming. Horrified that her two very young children might themselves be asked questions — then even more frightened by what the little boys might innocently say — Juliana's own distress grew so dreadful, she was beyond answering anything. Not normally prone to collapse in a crisis, she was surprised how quickly she lost her calm and how violent her agitation became.
Permission was given for the children to be brought back. 'You must sit here very quietly,' she begged them, while they clung to her skirts and squirmed and wailed. 'When Mother speaks with the gentlemen, do not interrupt and do not cry.'
Tom was not quite six. Valentine was four. Neither of them could understand this.
Juliana had been allowed to bring nothing when she was dragged from home. She felt grubby. Such food as had been given to her had been tasteless and unappetising. She was empty and light-headed. Perhaps her everyday dress would help her. The soldiers who searched her had found nothing worse than the half-peeled carrot in her apron pocket; fortunately she had put down the paring knife on the kitchen table. When they found the carrot, she had snatched it back from them; there was good broth in it, she told them, before they had the grace to grin sheepishly, and even she forced a wan smile. They all had mothers. Some had wives. Juliana's preoccupation must seem all too familiar.
'I have nobody to speak for me,' Juliana told the committee through gritted teeth. 'I shall answer your questions as faithfully as possible. But I know very little.' She remembered how Lovell had said it was better if she knew nothing, and how angry she had been about that. Now she ought to be grateful. Being Juliana, she was in two minds. She was not sure how successful a dissembler she could be, but she would have liked a better idea of what she needed to say — or not say. 'My husband went abroad. I have not seen him, or had letters, for a year and a half. Before he left, he told me nothing of his plans.'
Silence greeted her declaration. Perhaps it sounded contrived. They must be used to wives denying contact with fugitive husbands. She let the men decide what to ask her.
She lost track of how long she was interrogated. Their questions were many, stern and remarkably detailed. Their response to her answers was often incredulity. Much of their interest was in whatever had been plotted from Pelham Hall.
'We lived there for a very short time only. My husband worked for Sir Lysander Pelham — '
'In what capacity?'
'An estate manager.'
'That was a subterfuge?'
'No; I believed it.'
'When did you leave Pelham Hall?'
'Around August last year.'
'Why did you leave?'
'Sir Lysander Pelham died very suddenly. We had so little connection with that place, that his daughters drove me out without compunction.'
'Now you live…' Papers were consulted. 'In Kent? At cottages owned by one, Carlill?'
'Of Colchester. A haberdasher. A town very strong for Parliament.'
Juliana managed to keep her face blank. She deduced that, in the manner of bureaucracy, the committee had imperfect information. They did not know that Germain Carlill was her father, nor that he had died. They must assume she was a tenant; how she found money for her rent, or whether she paid at all, was no concern of theirs. She took a chance and, since they did not ask her, remained silent about owning the cottage and orchard.
Questions about conspiracy continued. Juliana maintained she had never known who visited Pelham Hall, never guessed plots were being hatched, never knew her husband was involved. She sounded foolish to herself. Perhaps the men could see how perturbed she felt, as she realised the extent to which matters had been concealed from her. Perhaps they saw her starting to wonder how these things had become known to them, and why now?
'How close was Colonel Lovell's connection with Colonel William Legge?'
Will Legge? Juliana grew cold under her shift. 'Of course I heard of Colonel Legge; he was governor of Oxford when we lived there — '
'He lived close to you.'
'In the same street, that was well known. He was Prince Rupert's friend. We never moved in such circles.'
'When did your husband last see Colonel Legge?'
'See him?'
'Colonel Legge helped the late King escape from Hampton Court. He was then involved in the late rebellion in the county of Kent. He was reported to have been conferring with others, including his brother-in-law, Colonel Henry Washington, at Gravesend in Kent, as lately as this April.'
Juliana was truly astonished. 'This is nothing to do with us!'
'No, indeed,' one of the committee agreed, as if she had somehow incriminated herself. 'For according to you, your husband is beyond the seas.'
Another man said, 'Colonel Legge was sent by the late King's son, at the behest of the Marquis of Ormond, to join Prince Rupert's fleet. His ship was captured. Legge was taken prisoner at Plymouth in July and is currently in jail at Exeter, charged with high treason.'
Did that mean Lovell was a prisoner with Will Legge? Juliana stayed silent. In her heart she was raging at Lovell for never explaining anything.
There must have been no definitive connection between Lovell and Will Legge. The men let it drop. They held a discussion, almost among themselves, about the deputy lieutenants in Kent discharging Delinquents for only minor fines. Clearly it rankled. The powers given to the Kent Committee, the committee's recent actions and whether they had pursued the correct compounding rules had all been scrutinised by a Parliamentary subcommittee. Perhaps Juliana was only caught up in attempts to bring Kent into line…
When she felt so exhausted she thought she would faint, her interrogators lost interest. Then they revealed what had brought the soldiers to search her small house and garden, what had caused her to be carried here with her children and a wilting carrot in her pocket. One read out to her a resolution from the House of Commons:
The Question being put, For referring the Examination of Mr Orlando Lovell, being a Delinquent, to the Committee at Haberdashers Hall. It passed with the Affirmative.
Resolved, c. That it be referred to the Committee to examine the Delinquency of Mr Orlando Lovell; and to proceed with him accordingly; the House having received Information, That he rode in Prince Rupert's Troop and has been involved in the late Rebellion in the County of Kent.
Someone had laid an information.
Now Juliana realised that a person, a person probably known to her, had deliberately and maliciously accused her husband.
Possibilities arose, each more upsetting. She hoped it was some anonymous soldier who had served with Orlando. She feared it was not. More likely, it was somebody she herself knew. Someone she had trusted, someone she had liked. Her circle of acquaintance was extremely small. Anne Jukes, or Anne's associates at the print shop? Anne's Roundhead husband, that man whose life Juliana had saved? Or one of the Lovell family in Hampshire? Someone closer — the farmer's wife in Lewisham? The Pelham sisters? Most terrible of all — she forced herself to consider it — was it Edmund Treves?
The timing pointed horribly to Edmund. Had he bartered this information in return for his own lenient treatment? Had Edmund, out of old jealousy over losing Juliana or old resentment of Orlando, done this appalling thing?
Juliana Lovell was released. 'Thank you — but I have no money and am a day's journey from home! You brought me here, and my little ones — either your soldiers must take us back, or you should give me the fare!'
She seemed naive, she was exhausted, she had a shiny glaze of honesty. The committee men were so
