by John Drake
To the Reverend Doctor Charles Woods, of Polmouth in Cornwall, £1,000 and my grateful thanks.
To my faithful and honest butler, Mr Henry Porter, £1,000 and my humble apologies for a wrong that I did him. For this I beg his pardon and the forgiveness of the Merciful Deity.
To the Society for the Advancement of Philosophical Investigations into the Manufacture of Pottery, £500 and the use of the Library at Coignwood Hall for their quarterly meetings, in perpetuity.
To my housekeeper Mrs Mary Maddon, £30 per annum for life, and to each of my other servants at my various establishments, £10 per annum for life.
To Jacob Fletcher of Polmouth in Cornwall, whom I acknowledge as my beloved son, all my other monies, properties, effects, funds or interests of whatsoever kind absolutely, to fall to him upon his twenty-fifth birthday.
In particular, this shall include:
£73,000 in gold, together with such interest as shall have accrued, held to my account at Nathan and Levi’s Bank, off the Strand, London.
All shares, funds, monies or investments held under my name by other institutions.
Coignwood Hall and the 6,450 acres of Coignwood Park, with stables, livestock and tenancies.
The Coignwood Pottery Manufactory in the County of Staffordshire, and all profits deriving therefrom.
My other estates in Cornwall, Suffolk, and Ireland. My houses and other properties in London, Bristol, Bath, Hull, Dublin and Edinburgh.
I hereby name as my executor Mr Richard Lucey, Solicitor of 39 Market St, Lonborough and invest in him full power to administer my affairs on behalf of my son Jacob until he shall reach his twenty-fifth birthday.
Signed this day 20th November 1775
Henry Coignwood.
Witnessed by
R. Lucey.
A. Day.
Coignwood Hall,
20th November 1775
To Mr Jacob Fletcher.
My Son,
If my plans have been followed you must now be twenty-five years old and I must be dead.
You are now one of the richest men in England, much good may it do you. I know to my cost that wealth don’t make a man happy. But it do make him his own master and it puts choices into his hands. As to those choices, I’ll not give you no advice, for look at the ruin I’ve made of things. All I ever was good at, or wanted to do, was to make money through trade. I hope that you may make some good out of my money and that you may forgive me for the way you was raised as an orphan alone.
I cannot know what kind of man you are nor what you know of me. I saw you but the once, as an infant and it shall be my eternal sorrow that I knew you not, year by year, as you grew. But I had to put you away for your own safety, for it be a right family of rascals you was born into.
As to them, you have two step-brothers, Alexander and Victor, who are a choice pair of serpents that I can’t believe are mine. Both of them despise me. The one ’cos he’s an officer and thinks himself a Gentleman and the other ’cos he’s a vile pervert and thinks he’s a lady! Pray God I am a cuckold and some villain fathered them on me.
Keep your back to the wall and your fists up when you meet them. They’ll do away with you if they can. Alexander will for sure.
Their mother is Lady Sarah Coignwood. And she is the proof that beauty don’t guarantee happiness neither. I married late and, like an old fool, I bought myself the loveliest creature I could find. Many’s the long year I’ve had to regret marrying that woman, but what man could resist her? I says that in my own behalf. As a young girl she was so lovely that men were struck, fixed to the spot, gaping at her as she passed. Even women loved her and nobody could refuse her whatever she wanted.
Her family had not three ha’pence to rub together, but thought themselves better than me, ’cos I was in trade and them in the Sea Service. She was young when I married her, though they told me sixteen. But she was grown beyond her years and soon exhausted me, and looked elsewhere for her pleasures. And she’s vicious with it. As bad as her sons, so watch her, too. The three of them are an evil trinity but she’s the one that drives them on and rewards them in filthy ways I cannot bring myself to set down on paper.
All this I bore for many years before I met your mother. Her name was Mary Fletcher and a gentler creature there never was. And she became my dear companion. Thus you was born outside of wedlock and many will give you the cruel name that attaches to that condition. But I says this to you. You was conceived and born in love, and your parents held you in their arms together and were united in their joy. Had Mary lived, I should have claimed you both and damned the world. But she didn’t.
Should you wonder what I looked like, you will find my portrait by Mr Reynolds in the Library at Coignwood Hall. I ask you to cast an eye over it, since it’s only for you I had it done. It’s a good likeness.
Your father,
Henry Coignwood.
35
Those who went to arrest LADY SARAH and her son were: Mr Forster the magistrate, his constable, his coachman, three others and Mr Pendennis, a respectable merchant of Cornwall. This party believed itself sufficient to the task, but events proved that a regiment of dragoons would not have been excessive force.
(From the Clarion of the North of 31st July 1793.)
*
To his great annoyance, Pendennis had difficulty in persuading Mr Forster, the magistrate, to issue a warrant for the arrest of the Coignwoods. Forster knew Lady Sarah, and Pendennis recognised all the symptoms of the man’s fascination with her.
“Dammit, sir!” cried Pendennis. “Have you not heard what Mr Taylor has said? D’you not believe him? D’you not believe me? I’m a magistrate myself, dammit!”
“Not in Lonborough, sir!” replied Forster with maddening complacency. Longford and his wife had dined at Coignwood Hall. He had, himself, led Lady Sarah into dinner and been duly dazzled by her. It was asking a lot for him to overturn, in an instant, his respect for the leading family in the town.
But Pendennis would not be denied, and battered away like a siege gun until finally he turned Forster’s opinion.
“I must confess, Mr Pendennis,” said Forster eventually, “that there are certain rumours, current among the vulgar, that Lady Sarah is not all that she seems. Of course I pay no attention ... ”
“Believe them, sir!” cried Pendennis, snatching at this advantage. Forster frowned heavily and looked up from his table at Pendennis and Taylor. He dropped his voice.
“I had even heard,” he said, “that ... ”
“Yes?” said Pendennis.
“That Mr Victor was ... was ... less than a man.”
“Bah!” said Taylor. “Everybody knows that! One look at him tells you it.” Forster coughed to cover his confusion. “And we saw him that night,” insisted Taylor, “my wife and I saw him. Who could mistake that painted fop?” Forster sighed and reached for his pen.
“I see that I cannot refuse you, gentlemen,” he said. “I shall prepare the papers and we shall go together to the Hall.”
“Wait, sir,” said Pendennis, “I know the Coignwoods! No move should be made against them other than by a band of sturdy men. They are dangerous.”
An hour later, Mr Forster’s carriage was brought to his door and he and Pendennis set out, followed by the parish constable and his three brothers. These four were armed with heavy staves. In addition, Forster’s coachman had his blunderbuss. Taylor was intensely curious and wanted to go too, but Pendennis said that he was too important a witness to be put at risk, and Taylor was sent home to his wife. He grumbled that he was being set aside, but Pendennis’s wise precaution undoubtedly saved his life.
Later, as the carriage reached the Hall and passed through the great gates and along the drive, the party saw that the house was shuttered and the grounds were unkept.
“Mr Pendennis,” said Forster, with a sigh. “I’m sorry you should see Coignwood Hall like this. It is the foremost estate in the county, and everything was just so when Sir Henry w
as alive. He kept a full house of servants.”
But when they reached the door, not a servant was to be seen and they had to hammer to rouse a response. At length, with much grinding of bolts, the doors were opened and a grubby little maid stood peering out from the gloom within.
“Where is Porter?” said Forster. “Mr Porter the Butler, and the other servants?”
“They’s all gone,” said the girl. “Missus couldn’t pay. There’s only me.” She made no sign of admitting them, so Forster pushed open the door.
“Stand aside, girl,” he said. “I’ve business with your mistress. Take me to her at once!” And he thrust open the door and led the way in with a clatter of boots on the chequered tiles of the hall. The girl was terrified and promptly burst into tears, hiding her face in her apron. “None of that!” said Forster. “’Tis no use! Take us to your mistress or it’ll be the worse for you.”
And then, like an actress in a drama, the lady herself appeared. She swept down the broad staircase from the upper floor and smiled at them as if they were guests.
“Mr Forster!” she cried. “What a pleasure! And is that my old friend Mr Pendennis?” Pendennis felt his knees go weak. “Good day to you, sir!” she said, smiling with her faerie eyes boring into Pendennis’s brain. “I do so well remember our last meeting. Do not you?” Pendennis was totally thrown aback and mumbled something to his boots.
Lady Sarah surveyed them like a queen.
“How may I help you, gentlemen?” she said.
She’d chosen her ground well. Just far enough up the stairs to give her the advantage of height, but close enough for every man to get a good look. Pendennis saw his companions gaping, and pulling off their hats and knuckling their foreheads. And that fool Forster swept her a bow, with the stern resolve melting off his face like snow in the sunshine.
Pendennis’s heart sank. Even within himself, there awakened desires for the woman, and hot memories of the enchanted moments on that sofa. But he thought of the foul murder of Richard Lucey, and he gathered up his courage.
“I’ll tell you how you may help,” he said. “We are here, Lady Sarah, with a warrant for your son’s arrest on a charge of murder! We have witnesses to prove his involvement!” She said nothing, but fell back in terror, as if she’d been struck, and collapsed in the most graceful way imaginable. Pendennis was sure it was play-acting, but it worked like a charm.
The others were like Ulysses’s crew in the fable, turned to swine by the sorceress Circe. They rushed forward to her aid, elbowing one another aside for the privilege of lifting her up. They got her into the withdrawing room and propped her up with cushions in an armchair and Forster sent the servant for hartshorn and sherry wine to revive her. The constable was fanning her with his hat, his brothers were busy opening windows for the fresh air, and Forster was on his knees patting her hand. Only the coachman seemed unmoved. He was fingering the brass barrel of his gun and staring fixedly at Lady Sarah. A thought came to Pendennis.
“You, there!” he said to the coachman. “Go at once to the back of the house, lest Mr Victor try to escape that way.” The coachman turned as if to reply.
“What a woman!” says he, with a lustful look in his eye. “I’d give all I own ... ”
“Enough, sir!” said Pendennis. “He may escape at any moment!”
“Gentlemen!” said a loud, clear voice from the doorway. “You will all be so good as to stand exactly where you are. I shall kill the first man who moves.”
And there was Victor Coignwood, in a striped suit with gilded buttons and his hair worked into a riot of curls. His smooth, pretty face was like a girl’s, but in each hand he held a large double-barrelled pistol.
Instantly, Lady Sarah made the most remarkable recovery from her faint and slipped out to stand beside her son, while Forster’s men huddled together for support. The magistrate himself stepped forward.
“Now then, Mr Victor,” he said, “it won’t do, sir. We’re seven to your one.”
“Have a care, sir!” said the lady. “You are in peril.”
“You’ll never master so many,” said Forster.
“Show them!” she said to her son. “Pick any one you wish.” “You, sir!” said Victor, aiming at Forster’s heart. Forster clenched his fists and held his head high.
“You dare not!” said he. “I am the Law. If you fire on me you fire on your King!”
“And why not?” said Victor. “Isn’t King George going to hang me?”
“No!” says Lady Sarah. “He’s right. They’d turn the country over to find us. One of the others will do just as well.” Victor smiled.
“Would any of your witnesses be here, Mr Pendennis?” he asked.
“No,” said Pendennis.
“How lucky for them,” said Victor, and changed his aim, “You then!” he said, and fired. Smoke and fizzling powder grains shot past Pendennis, and every man flinched. Then the coachman was falling, shot through the body and mortally wounded. His gun clattered to the floor.
“You swine!” cried Forster and started forward. But Victor fired again. This time, the constable roared in pain as a bullet broke the bone of his leg. His brothers seized him and held him up. Victor’s eyes glittered with spite as he dropped the empty pistol and drew another from the waistband of his breeches.
“Who shall be next?” said he. “There’s plenty for all.” Forster, Pendennis and the rest were checked.
“Now, Mr Pendennis,” said Victor, with the same wicked smile. “I presume it is you who would swear evidence against me?” He took aim, and death stared Pendennis in the face. In that dire moment, strangely enough, he thought of his dragon of a wife.
“Not he!” cried Forster. “Three others saw you at your devil’s work.”
“Ah!” said Victor. “Then there would be little point, would there?” And Pendennis was left trembling and faint, but alive.
Lady Sarah took up the fallen blunderbuss, and she and Victor herded their prisoners down to the cellars and there locked them up with Sir Henry’s port and claret, and with the maid for company.
A few minutes later there came the distant sound of gunshots, then all was silent. With nobody to hear their shouts, and an iron-bound door to deal with, an hour passed before Forster’s men could break their way out. There were no tools in the cellar and the best they could do was to attack the door with a cask, swung as a battering ram. At least there was plenty of refreshment to hand.
When at last they escaped, they found that the Coignwoods had effectively prevented any pursuit. Forster’s horses had been shot, and when Pendennis and Forster went to the stables, they found that a light travelling-coach was gone and with it two horses, but every other horse had been lamed in the most brutal and disgusting fashion.
Someone had gone from stall to stall with a hedging bill and deeply slashed a leg of each animal. They found the blood-stained instrument laid aside in the straw. Forster, who loved horses, stood and wept at the sight.
“Despicable!” he gasped. “Even Brutus! Look ... ” And Pendennis saw the whimpering wreck of a splendid chestnut stallion. “Brutus!” cried Longford. “Sir Henry’s pride and joy! Bought for a thousand guineas! I ask you, Pendennis, how could an Englishman do such a thing?”
Pendennis felt sick. Every animal would have to be destroyed. He left Forster sobbing and cursing in the stable and went to see what else could be done.
He made sure the constable was as comfortable as could be contrived, and sent the youngest of the three brothers to walk to Lonborough for help. Even at best it would be hours before anything further could be done to apprehend the Coignwoods. A pity, but with the Coignwoods running from the Law, Pendennis saw that things were not so bad after all. He was alive, Edward Lucey was alive. And, best of all, Lady Sarah’s evil tongue was silenced. She and her son would be too busy escaping the gallows to bother Nathan Pendennis. For the first time in weeks, he began to hope that his reputation might be saved.
Now he and Edward would p
roceed unhindered to prove the 1775 Will. Then, so soon as Fletcher’s ship came into port, they would secure his release and they would break the wonderful news to him. Pendennis mused over the fact that young Fletcher was entirely ignorant of the great struggle that had been fought on his behalf. He turned his mind to the fascinating matter as to how he might advise Fletcher to invest his money.
36
So I knew everything. I knew it to the degree where I was bloated with knowledge. All my questions were answered and I saw, from his side, the game that had been played with me by my half-brother, Lieutenant Alexander Coignwood (or Williams, as he called himself). I saw myself through his eyes and learned to my wonderment that he had been afraid of me at the last. And I learned that I had a stepmother and another half-brother ashore who sounded like characters from a story-book in their wickedness.
As to my newly discovered father, I knew not what to think. Any harm he’d done me was long ago and I could imagine the forces that had worked upon him. I didn’t doubt for a minute that Alexander would have killed me as a child, given the chance. Furthermore I now knew where my gifts for business enterprise came from. And I didn’t need to visit Coignwood Hall to know what Henry Coignwood had looked like. According to Alexander, I had only to find a mirror.
But the two things that chased each other round and round in my brain were the fact of the vast wealth that I was heir to as Jacob Fletcher, and the fact that there were still two men, Oakes and Pegg, who, according to Norris, had seen me kill Dixon and could therefore get me hanged as Jacob Fletcher.
“If you ask me, I don’t see no problem!” says Sammy Bone when I told him. I told him everything, for I valued his opinions like no other. “You daft bugger!” says he. “Get yourself some lawyers, and brass it out. Say it was self defence. Say anything you bloody well like! You don’t suppose nobody gets hung who’s got that sort of money, do you? You go back and fight for what’s yours. Me and the lads always knew you was meant for more than a common tar.”
