by Sara Fraser
‘Show me them caps then,’ Maud Harman demanded.
Weiss spread his hands wide and with a troubled expression answered. ‘Them that I got with me have already been ordered by a Noble Lord, Mistress. I can show them to you, but I don’t know what the Noble Lord would say if I was to sell you one of them. He wouldn’t like to think that a common working man was wearing the exact same fur cap as him.’
The woman reacted indignantly. ‘I’ll have you know that my husband aren’t no common working man! He’s a Master Tradesman, so he is, and he’s got dozens o’ common working men at his beck and call. My husband is as great a man as any nobleman in this land, and fit to wear any fur cap that he wants to wear.’
‘I’m sorry, Mistress! I’m sorry! I mean you no offence, I swear I don’t. O’ course you shall see these caps; and o’ course your husband’s as good as any Lord in this land.’ Weiss volubly sought to soothe her as he delved into the small bag slung across his shoulders and pulled from it a fur cap which he flourished in front of her face.
Her eyes widened, and she exclaimed as if in awe. ‘God strewth! That’s a rare looking colour, aren’t it? I’ve never seen a fur cap that colour afore. What sort o’ beast does that come from?’
‘One o’ the rarest beasts in the world, Mistress. The fur that this cap is made of is from that same rare breed of beast that the King himself demands to have his own fur caps made from.’ He paused, and then whispered reverently, ‘This is the fur of a Royal Iceland Otterhound. If a man had one o’ these on his head, he could stand under the fiercest waterfall in the world for a hundred years, and not a drop of water would ever pass through this cap to touch his head. A man could be closed into a solid block of ice for a hundred years, and his head would stay as warm as toast, because no cold could ever get through this fur. A man could walk for a hundred years in boots made of this fur, and never need a cobbler, it’s so hard wearing.’
He reached out to take her hand and gently enclose it with the cap.
‘There now, Missus. There’s the proof that what I’m telling you is the God’s honest truth. Feel the softness, feel the warmth, feel the comfort and luxury of it.’
‘I can! I can!’ Maud Harman gasped out and closed her eyes. ‘I can feel all them things! I wants to buy this ’un for me husband.’ She opened her eyes. ‘What’s the price?’
‘Three guineas!’ Weiss tested.
‘What?’ Maud Harman’s horrified reaction. ‘I daren’t pay that. Me husband would break me neck for spending that much!’
‘Well, that’s what my noble gentlemen pays me for a wonderful cap such as this one,’ Weiss gently explained as he took the cap back into his own safe-keeping. ‘And they think it to be a bargain at that price.’
‘Well that may be, but my husband has never paid more than five shillings for any fur cap he’s ever wore!’ Maud Harman argued.
‘Then he’s only ever wore rats skins and the like,’ Weiss riposted firmly. ‘The Royal Iceland Otterhound is worn by Kings and Emperors. Just imagine how splendid your fine husband would look in such a Royal fur cap as this one. He would feel like worshipping the ground you walk on for giving him such a magnificent proof of the love you bear for him.’
Maud Harman appeared to be holding back tears of distress. ‘I just can’t pay that much for it. I haven’t got nowhere near three guineas.’
‘Oh, my dear lady, I cannot bear to see your terrible disappointment,’ Weiss murmured sympathetically. ‘How much money do you have with you?’
She rummaged in her purse and choked out, ‘A sovereign, a crown piece, and three pennies. But there’s me cat furs as well. They’m worth something, aren’t they?’
He shrugged regretfully. ‘No more than a few pennies, dear lady.’
‘Oh my God!’ she wailed in despair. ‘I aren’t got no more money in me house either, so I can’t buy the cap, can I! And I wanted to buy it with all me heart, so I did.’
Weiss held his hand up to signal for silence. ‘Allow me to think for a moment or two.’
She stood gazing anxiously at him until he lowered his hand, and smiled encouragingly at her.
‘It’s Leap Year Day today, and it only comes once every four years, don’t it? It’s a very special day to me because it’s the day I wed my beloved wife. What better way could I give thanks for this day, than to do a good turn for a good woman who loves her man, like my wife loves me.
‘So, I’m ready to sacrifice my own profit on this cap. I’ll sell it to you for two sovereigns and five shillings only. Now, you already have the sovereign and the crown piece. Is it possible that you might have a friend close hereabouts who will loan you the second sovereign?’
‘Well, my sister-in-law lives just a mile or so along the road towards Bromsgrove. I’m sure she’ll lend me the other sovereign and gladly, because she owes me a couple of big favours. I’ll go and get it off her straight now.’ Maud Harman began to hurry away.
After doing such poor business that day, Weiss wasn’t prepared to let this prize fish slip his hook, and he shouted desperately, ‘Wait, dear lady! Wait!’
She halted and turned to face him.
‘I’m finished my trading here for the day,’ he hastily explained. ‘And I’m going back to Bromsgrove myself, so we can go together to your sister’s house. I just need to take my goods to where my donkey is and then we can be on our way.’
Flanking the road to Bromsgrove, just over a mile from the outskirts of Droitwich Town, the sign of the Robin Hood Inn swung and creaked in the cold wind.
When the lights shining from the inn’s windows came into view, Maud Harman told her companion, ‘There’s the Robin Hood, me sister-in-law’s house is right behind it. We’ll be there in no time at all.’
‘And you will then become the lucky owner of one of the finest fur caps in all of England.’ Weiss smiled. ‘And your husband will be made a very happy and loving man.’
‘He will indeed!’ Maud Harman happily declared, and quickened her pace. ‘I can’t wait to get there!’
‘No more can I, dear lady,’ Weiss chuckled.
Maud Harman led the way up to the frontage of the inn, and told Weiss, ‘You wait here, because I don’t want me sister-in-law to know that I’m buying this present. I wants to keep it a secret until I give it to me husband. Here, hold this basket for me. I’ll be back in two ticks.’
She handed him her laden basket and scurried round the side of the inn out of his view.
Weiss hummed contentedly to himself. ‘There now, Yacob, this day’s ended well after all.’
Within scant seconds Maud Harman was back, triumphantly brandishing a gold sovereign. ‘There now, didn’t I tell you that I’d get the money? Come into the light so we can see what we’re doing.’
They stood bathed in the light shining from the window, from where the voices and laughter of the people within came clearly to their ears. Maud Harman carefully counted the two sovereigns and the five-shilling piece into Weiss’s hand, and in return he un-strapped the small bag from the donkey’s load, opened it and handed her the fur cap.
He re-strapped the bag on to the donkey and told her, ‘Your man’s going to love the cap, dear lady. And now I wish you goodbye.’
He started to lead the donkey away but had only taken a few paces when a voice shouted.
‘Stand still, Pedlar! In the King’s name! Stand still!’
Dark-shadowed figures loomed at each side of him.
‘I’m Constable Potts, and I’m arresting you, Yakob Weiss, in the King’s name. If you try to resist we shall use force.’
Deep in shock, Weiss could only blurt, ‘I’ve done nothing wrong! I’ve done nothing!’
The second man snatched the donkey’s lead rope from Weiss’s hand, as Tom Potts gripped the pedlar’s arm and pulled him back into the light from the window.
Tom produced a vellum document and showed it to the bemused man, and then requested, ‘Please will you, Ma’am, and Master Bennett also take heed a
nd bear witness to what I am now going to say? This is the warrant authorized by Reverend the Lord Aston, Justice of the Peace. It’s for the arrest of Yakob Weiss on the grounds that he is defrauding His Majesty’s Commissioners of the Treasury . . .’
‘No! No! I’m doing no such thing! I’m an innocent man! An honest man!’ Weiss shouted in continual protest.
Tom continued in a steady voice. ‘Yakob Weiss holds the four pound’ per annum Pedlar’s License, which entails that he back-packs his goods to market and between markets. I, Thomas Potts, Constable of the Parish of Tardebigge, have solid proof and witnesses that in fact he uses a donkey to transport his goods, which means that he should be in possession of the eight pounds per annum Hawker’s License for his use of beasts of burden in the pursuit of his business.
‘Therefore, Yakob Weiss is currently defrauding His Majesty’s Treasury of four sovereigns per annum. For which offence he can be imprisoned, or fined very heavily and his goods be confiscated.
‘I am arresting you, Yakob Weiss, for this license offence, and I warn you that any attempt at resistance will be very severely dealt with.’
‘And it’s me that’ll be doing the dealing!’ Tom’s companion, Alfie Bennett, brandished his cudgel in menacing threat.
‘But you got no right to arrest me here,’ Yakob Weiss argued desperately. ‘You’re only the Constable of Tardebigge Parish, and we’re in the Droitwich Parish, so you’ve got no power of arrest here. And that bugger there aren’t a constable, so he’s breaking the law by robbing my donkey from me by force, and I shall lay charges against him for horse thieving.’
Tom smiled grimly. ‘This warrant empowers me to arrest you in any parish of this kingdom, Master Weiss, and this Gentleman with me is obeying the law by giving me the assistance I demanded from him in the King’s name.’
Tom turned his head to speak to Maud Harman. ‘I regret, Ma’am, that I must regretfully confiscate the fur cap you have just purchased from this pedlar as material evidence. Also you will be called upon to testify at his trial, both as witness and victim, in that he has taken your money under false pretence.’
‘What false pretence?’ the pedlar shouted indignantly. ‘I’ve sold her honest goods! That fur cap is genuine Otterhound!’
Hearing this admission, Tom experienced a moment of pure elation. Then he attended to the business of taking chains and manacles from his satchel and securing Weiss’s hands behind his back.
‘Now, Master Weiss, if you behave yourself I will carry you pillion back to Redditch, and save you the labour of walking there. Master Bennett, will you please fetch my horse, while I obtain this good lady’s particulars.’
He drew Maud Harman aside and they whispered together so that Weiss could not overhear what passed between them.
When Tom was mounted with Weiss riding pillion, and the laden donkey secured to his saddle by a long leading rein, he bade Maud Harman and Alfred Bennett goodbye and rode away towards Redditch Town.
Alfred Bennett led a second horse from the rear of the inn, Maud Harman climbed on pillion behind him, and they made their own leisurely way homewards.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Redditch Town
Saturday, 1st March
Dawn
Tom Potts unlocked the cell door and shone his bulls-eye lantern on the snoring, blanket-covered prisoner within.
‘Master Weiss,’ Tom called loudly. ‘It’s time to rouse yourself and eat your breakfast.’
The man didn’t stir, so Tom went into the cell, put the chunk of bread and cheese and pitcher of ale on the floor beside the stone pallet, and shook the sleeper’s shoulder until he was roused to wakefulness.
‘What did you have to wake me up for?’ Weiss complained. ‘I’ve only just got to sleep.’
‘You are Jewish, are you not, Master Weiss? And Saturday is Shabbat, your Holy Day, is it not, Master Weiss? I thought that you might want to be at your prayers, so I’ve brought you an early breakfast. But I need to ask you about your customary diet. Do you eat only Kosher food, with all meats prepared by the melihah method, and no pork, hare, camel or hyrax meats whatsoever?’
Weiss pushed himself up to a sitting position and stared at Tom as if he could not believe what he was hearing.
Tom frowned impatiently. ‘Come now, Master Weiss, you know well that it’s mart day here and I have much to do and little enough time to do it in. So kindly give me your answer.’
Weiss answered with a question. ‘Are you telling me that if I eat only Kosher food, you will have my meats prepared in the melihah way?’
‘Of course I will.’ Tom nodded.
The pedlar shook his head. ‘I don’t bother with the Kosher these days. I like a bit of bacon for my breakfast.’
‘Well tomorrow you shall have bacon for breakfast. And while you’re here you’ll be eating the same good food as myself and my wife,’ Tom assured him, then added, ‘But I fear that when you’re in Worcester Jail you’ll be eating the same slops as the rest of the convicts. I have no influence there.’
Weiss gulped hard. ‘Worcester Jail? Do you think that I’ll be sent to prison then?’
Tom sighed. ‘Regretfully, you undoubtedly will be imprisoned, Master Weiss. And I say regretfully because I don’t believe that you’re a wicked man. But our Parish Vicar, Reverend the Lord Aston, is the chief magistrate, and he’s a very harsh judge. Personally I don’t blame you for trying to avoid taxes. Everyone does their best to avoid them. Your misfortune was that you were informed upon.’
‘By who?’
Tom shook his head. ‘I can’t tell you his name. It’s more than my life’s worth to divulge such secrets.’
Weiss broke into sobs. ‘Oh God, what about my poor wife and my innocent children? What will become of them when I’m in the jail! Oh God!’
‘I have to go now, Master Weiss. I’ll come back later and talk with you.’ Tom stepped back out of the cell and relocked the door, and the pedlar’s sobs and wailing lamentations followed him as he went upstairs.
Amy was on her knees raking the overnight covering of ashes from the glowing embers of coal in the small living-room grate and adding woodchips and fresh coals, her rosy cheeks bulging as she blew hard upon the embers to rekindle the flames.
When Tom came into the room she sat back upon her heels and grumbled.
‘What have you done to that man to make him caterwaul so? It’s an awful racket! And another thing, how long are these bundles going to be cluttering up the place and making it look like a rubbish tip?’ She pointed to several packs of the pedlar’s goods.
‘Not long,’ Tom told her. ‘I just need to examine all of them very closely and compare them to the descriptions I wrote down about the colourings and patterns of Elias Bradshaw’s Otterhounds, the Earl’s Bernese mountain dogs and Will Tyrwhitt’s Newfoundland bitch.’
‘Well get them shifted out of my way because I need to tidy up,’ she ordered.
Tom did as he was told.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Redditch Town
Saturday, 1st March
Afternoon
When Tom Potts returned to the lock-up from his patrolling of the market, Amy was singing to herself in the alcove kitchen, but there was no sound coming from the pedlar’s cell.
Tom opened the door’s drop-flap and peered inside. Weiss was lying on the stone pallet, blankets pulled over his head. Tom closed the flap and went to join Amy, who proffered a platter of hot mutton stew.
‘This is for the bloke in the cell, and there’s fresh bread in the cupboard.’
Tom took the food to the cell and as he unlocked the door called, ‘Wake up, Master Weiss, I’ve got your dinner here.’
The blankets moved and the pedlar’s swarthy face appeared over their edges.
Tom held the platter towards him. ‘You’d best eat this before it gets cold, Master Weiss.’
Weiss cast the blankets completely off and stood up to declare brokenly, ‘As God is my judge, Constable Potts, I’m t
oo sick in my heart to be able to eat anything. I can only think of one thing, and that is what is going to happen to my helpless wife and children when I am sent to the jail. It will be the death of them, Constable Potts!’
‘I’m truly sorry to hear that, Master Weiss,’ Tom replied gravely. ‘But the Law is the Law, and you have broken it. So it must take its course, and you must go to jail.’
‘But please, I beg you, Constable Potts, please to hear what I tell you. I am just like you are. I am an honest man, who keeps his word. A man of kind heart and charity. A dutiful and loving husband and father . . .’ Tears brimmed and fell from Weiss’s eyes and sobs tore from his throat as he went on, and on, and on expounding his multitudinous virtues.
At length, Tom lifted his hand and ordered grimly, ‘Be silent, Master Weiss, and listen very carefully to what I say, because it may well be that I can help you to stay out of jail.’
The pedlar’s eyes instantly narrowed, his sobbing voice hushed, his hands rubbed frantically together.
Tom lowered his voice conspiratorially. ‘Now, Master Weiss, what I’m going to say will be strictly private between you and myself. And you will make reply only when I give you my permission.’
Weiss hissed sibilantly, nodding agreement and cocking his head to place his hairy ear in closer proximity to Tom’s mouth.
‘Otterhounds, Master Weiss? Bernese mountain? Newfoundland dogs? In your packages you have fur caps made from the pelts of all these breeds. Who sold these pelts to you? Tell me this, and I shall do my utmost to ensure that you will not go to jail.’
Tom allowed time for the other man to consider what he had heard, then told him, ‘You may now speak, Master Weiss.’
Weiss’s tongue snaked out to lick his lips, his entwined black-nailed fingers rubbed and kneaded furiously. He cleared his throat and whispered hoarsely, ‘And the fine, Constable Potts? What about the fine? I am a very poor man, and a heavy fine would drive me and my sorrowful, innocent wife and children into the Poorhouse.’
Tom frowned and hardened his tone. ‘If you go to jail, your wife and children will certainly be forced into the Poorhouse, will they not? And you may never come out of jail alive, Master Weiss. Very many prisoners die of the Gaol Fever.’
