by Ann Swinfen
Gideon was a man of a different stamp. He stepped forward and held out his hand to the bailiff.
‘Gideon Chandler at your service, goodman. And you are?’
There was no mistaking his tone of authority. It was clear that the bailiff recognised it, as he recognised a gentleman, even though he might be dressed like a farmer. He hesitated only a moment, then shook Gideon’s hand.
‘Jacob Needler, master.’
That put matters on the right footing.
‘And what is the problem here?’ Gideon’s voice continued to be calm, reasonable. And aristocratic.
‘These people–’ the man waved scornfully at the huddled settlers, ‘they owe rent for the smallholdings as they rent from my principals.’
‘But they are living here in our village,’ Gideon pointed out gently, ‘on land belonging to us. They are not farming any smallholdings belonging to anyone else. Do you perhaps mean our common land over there?’ He waved his hand in the direction where the settlement had briefly stood. ‘Everything there was destroyed in the flood.’
The bailiff shifted from foot to foot.
‘I was told to collect their rents,’ he said stubbornly.
‘Do you have any written authorisation?’ Gideon said it so charmingly, you would have thought he was the man’s dearest friend.
Needler began to look very uneasy. ‘I don’t need no writing,’ he blustered.
‘Oh, I think you will find that in law you do,’ Gideon said firmly. ‘Otherwise, you see, it would count as obtaining money by menaces. That is a form of theft. It would carry a prison sentence for you.’
The bailiff now looked really alarmed. ‘They said I was to collect the rents.’ But he said it with a good deal less conviction now.
‘Then they were wrong on two counts. These people are now part of our village, so they cannot possibly owe any rents. And as for your principals’ attempt to steal our land, you will very shortly see them in court themselves, when we bring our case against them. Now, have you come far? From London? From Lincoln? Will you take a glass of ale in the yel-hus with me? Or would you rather be on your way?’
The man shook his head, as if a fly were buzzing round it, and began to push his way toward a horse he had left tethered beside the first of the settlers’ houses. The crowd of villagers opened courteously before him. Without another word, he mounted his horse and rode off toward the Crowthorne road. Until he was out of sight, no one said a word, then a great noise of yelling and laughter broke out, to greet Rafe who came running along the lane from the medland with Rob.
‘Too late,’ Alice said with a laugh, slipping her arm through his. ‘You have missed all the excitement. Gideon has trounced the enemy with sweet words.’
The Dutchmen were crowding round Gideon and shaking his hand. The children, come out from behind their mothers’ skirts, rushed off squealing to play with their friends amongst the village children. Griet ran over and threw her arms around me. She had held back her tears in the face of the bullying bailiff, but she was crying now. She kissed me.
‘Oh, Mercy, I give thanks to God that you came to help us.’
‘It is Gideon you should thank,’ I said with a laugh.
‘I shall. I shall kiss him too.’
And she did.
When our intrepid merchants returned from Lincoln, we had a tale to tell them. Gideon’s reputation in the village had grown ever higher. He had always been known for his kindness and sympathy, and for his courage at the time of Huw’s christening. Now his crafty diplomacy in the face of a naked threat gained him great admiration. There is nothing a villager likes better than seeing an arrogant outsider put in his place.
The expedition to market had been successful. The settlers had now earned some much needed coin to purchase goods for their homes. I even had a little left over after my purchases were paid for. Yet there remained two clouds on the horizon. The summer continued colder than many a winter anyone could remember. And Sir John had done nothing to stop van Slyke. Any time now, the drainers would turn their attention to us once more.
Chapter Ten
Tom
I was grateful that the day following the attack I suffered from Edmund Dillingworth’s thugs was a Saturday. I stayed in bed and slept for most of the day. Some time in the afternoon, to my astonishment, Anthony brought Goodwife Gorley to see me. He had sought her out in her lodgings and asked her help in treating the injury to my head.
She came in scolding.
‘And what did you think you were a-doing, Master Bennington, that is what I would like to know? Master Thirkettle tells me you were set upon by rogues down a dark alley, going to meet an enemy in some dirty tavern!’
She rolled up her sleeves and fetched a pot out of her basket, carefully removing the square of cloth that was tied over the top.
‘You young men, you think you can stand up to anything. My man was the same, fool that he was. Thought it would be exciting to go for a soldier. Turn on to your side, so I can see the back of your head, if you please.’
Too astonished to protest, I did as I was told.
‘Hmph.’ She made a sceptical, snorting noise. ‘At least someone has had the sense to wash it. I am going to clip away the hair near the injury. You don’t want that getting caught up in it.’
I tried to protest, for I confess to being somewhat vain of my thick locks, but she ignored me and I could hear her snipping away. Anthony gave me a comical grin.
‘Never fear, Tom. She has not removed much.’
Goodwife Gorley sniffed the wound and pronounced it apparently clean. She smeared it with whatever salve she had brought with her, which smelled fresh and pleasant enough.
‘Where do you find the herbs for your salves?’ I asked, addressing the hem of her skirt and trying to maintain some dignity. ‘Or do you purchase your salves from an apothecary?’
‘There’s plenty of healing herbs to be found in the Walks,’ she said. ‘Any that lack, I can find in the fields beyond. I’d no more trust an apothecary, rogues every one of them, than I’d ask a blacksmith to make me a pair of shoes, or a lawyer to charge an honest fee.’
Anthony suppressed a snort.
‘You may laugh, Master Thirkettle, but there’s a-plenty rogues in the Inns of Court.’
‘Indeed there are, Goodwife Gorley,’ he said solemnly, ‘but not all of us are rogues.’
‘Ah, but the two of you are but apprentices still to the trade. Let us judge you when you have been twenty years at the bar.’
‘If I am ever called to the bar,’ I said, sitting up with a groan, ‘then you may pass judgement on me.’
‘You will not live to be called,’ she said sharply, ‘if you do not have a care. That is a nasty blow you took to the head. What else did they do to you?’
I described the kicking I had received.
‘And do you feel yourself dizzy at all?’
‘A little.’ I wondered that I was allowing myself to be questioned by this woman, as though she were a licensed physician. Many years of surrendering my injuries to the care of my mother and Hannah and Mercy, I suppose, had accustomed me to the tyranny of women.
‘You must stay abed,’ she said, ‘or at most sit quiet in a chair here. For a week at least. A blow like that to the head is serious.’
‘But I must see Bencher Whittaker on Monday, and I must go to the City. And my work in the library–’
She shrugged. ‘Be your own assassin, then. What care I?’
She picked up her basket.
‘I am sorry, goodwife,’ I said with appropriate meekness, ‘I will do as you say. And I thank you for your care. What do I owe you for the salve?’
‘Nothing!’ She gave me a haughty look and strode out of the door.
Anthony raised his eyebrows and grinned at me.
‘A formidable woman.’ I said, ‘she should be in charge of the New Model Army.’
He nodded. ‘She terrifies me. Will you follow her instructions?’
&n
bsp; ‘I do find myself somewhat dizzy,’ I admitted. ‘And my sight is a mite blurred. Perhaps she is right. I can leave the search for the charter a week or so. As for my duties here at Gray’s, that is no problem. I will send notes to Bencher Whittaker and Master Hansen, but what of the surgeon? He is expecting me on Monday afternoon. And I believe the mechanical leg has suffered some damage as well as the tear in the leather.’
‘If you write a letter explaining everything,’ Anthony said, ‘I will see that it is sent to him.’
‘I will write the notes now.’ I got awkwardly to my feet and began to make my way to the office. ‘By the way, what became of that lad, John?’
‘He went off while you were still asleep. Said he would lose his post if he failed to report to his master. He will come back in a few days to see how you fare.’
In fact the first person I saw from outside Gray’s was not John but Master Bolton. I was half dozing by the fire in one of the cushioned chairs on Monday afternoon when I heard a brisk knock on our front door followed by Anthony’s voice speaking to someone. It had remained so cold, even though it was supposed to be summer, that we kept the fire alight during the day. However, since the blow to my head the warmth of the fire was apt to make me sleepy. It seemed to be disgraceful to be sitting here idle, but I found that I had little energy to bestir myself. Perhaps Goodwife Gorley was right and my head injury was worse than I had thought at first.
‘And what is this I hear?’
Gilbert Bolton came bouncing into the room in his usual irrepressible way, carrying a large bag that clanked as he set it down on the table. I was surprised that he had left his business to come all the way out of the City to Gray’s Inn. He shook his finger at me.
‘Riotous behaviour and damage to my precious leg?’
I gave him a weak grin. ‘Nothing riotous on my part, I assure you! As I explained in my letter, I was set upon by three thugs.’
‘Aye, in a dark alley where you had no business to be.’
‘Enticed there by someone who meant me harm,’ I conceded. ‘It was foolish of me. But thanks to the timely rescue by a kind stranger and the arrival of two friends, I have survived to trouble you all.’
‘But the leg has not.’
‘I am not sure how serious the damage is. I can walk with it, but it does not seem to move as well as it did before. The leather is ripped just below the knee, so perhaps the knee joint has been knocked sideways.’
He crouched down and studied the leg.
‘I see you are going barefoot.’
‘Anthony,’ I nodded toward him, ‘has taken my right shoe to have a pair to it made by a shoemaker in Holborn. So I am going about our rooms shoeless. I should have the pair by this evening, so I can restore your shoe to you.’ I pointed to his shoe, which was sitting on the windowsill.
‘Well, we had best remove the leg, and I will examine it.’
‘Do you wish me to leave?’ Anthony said.
‘Stay if you wish.’ I turned to Bolton. ‘My friend is most interested in your inventions.’
Bolton removed the mechanical leg and laid it on the table, then began unpacking his tools while he explained the gears in the joints to Anthony. I felt one of those periodic waves of sleepiness washing over me, which had been affecting me since the attack. I leaned my head on my hand and closed my eyes.
I woke when Bolton shook me gently by the shoulder.
‘Let us try this now, Master Bennington.’ He gave me a sharp look. ‘You are not well?’
‘Just tired.’ I smiled. ‘Have you been able to repair the leg?’
‘Aye. No serious harm done. The gears in the knee had been knocked a little out of alignment, so they were not engaging as smoothly as they should. Nothing was bent, fortunately. And I have replaced the section of leather that was torn. Luckily I still had some of the same skin left over from when I made the original casing. Now, let us see you walk.’
He helped me strap on the repaired leg and as soon as I stood I could feel the difference. The leg no longer felt slightly twisted. I picked up my crutch and walked back and forth across the room until he was satisfied, sinking at last, thankfully, into the chair again.
‘Good,’ he said. ‘You are making excellent progress.’
He began to pack up his tools into the bag. I could hear him speaking quietly to Anthony.
‘I think that blow on the head was quite severe. You say he then walked all the way back here from Chancery Lane? That was quite an undertaking after such an injury.’
‘We needed to get him home. And away from that place. For all we knew, those fellows might have come back with reinforcements.’
‘Quite, quite. But I think now he should take plenty of rest. I have seen it with war injuries. Immediately afterwards the victim may make great efforts to reach a place of safety, only to collapse once the immediate danger is past. I think he should have several weeks’ rest. No straining of the intellectual muscles. No rambling about dark alleys at night.’
‘I think he is well cured of dark alleys at night,’ Anthony said. ‘I am not so sure about his intellectual muscles.’
‘I can hear you,’ I said. ‘I can assure you that my intellectual muscles are quite as fit as yours, Anthony.’
He laughed, and they both came over to me.
‘I am serious, Master Bennington,’ the surgeon said. ‘You must rest. These head injuries can be dangerous things. When you are quite recovered, come to see me again. I have not been able to create the perfect foot with flexible toes yet, but perhaps I will have succeeded by the time you are well. I will bid you good day now.’
‘I thank you for coming,’ I said. ‘I did not expect it. Now I can walk comfortably again.’
‘But not too much!’ He shook his finger at me again.
‘Not too much, I promise. Do not forget your shoe.’
It was not long after he left that the shoemaker’s boy delivered my shoes, the old one and the new one he had made to match it. I put them on, one on my good right foot and one on the mechanical leg. I took a turn about the room, the boy gaping in wonderment. The balance was right, so I paid him his master’s fee and sent him off.
When he was gone, I sank back in my chair and Anthony sat down opposite me.
‘That is two people now, who have said you must rest. I hope you will take their advice.’
At one time I might have argued, but I was feeling dizzy again and the room seemed to waver, as though I were looking at it through water.
‘Very well,’ I said. ‘I will rest.’
In the event, it was nearly three weeks before I resumed my studies with Bencher Whittaker and my work in the library. John Farindon had visited us twice, and taken a meal with us each time. He was curious about the study and practice of the law. We were now well into summer, past the end of term, but as Whittaker was in residence and I had missed so much, he was kind enough to supervise my studies for a few more weeks, although he said he would then give me a long reading list of books to be digested over the summer. That was his word, ‘digested’. When I eventually received the formidable list, I feared it might be a somewhat indigestible diet. In an act of surprising generosity, Pension continued to pay the wages for my library work while I was ill. For part of the summer, Master Hansen would be away visiting family in Shropshire, but he would leave me a list of tasks to be done. Secretly I suspected I would work more quickly without him fussing about me.
At the end of my second session with Whittaker after my illness, I decided to ask him for help. I explained that I was attempting to trace the royal charter which had granted our common lands in perpetuity.
‘I have learned that Bencher Blakiston of Lincoln’s Inn is the lawyer acting for our local lord of the manor, Sir John Dillingworth,’ I said. ‘About a year and a half ago, Sir John promised my father and other men of the village that he would set his lawyer to find the charter so that we could fight these adventurers in court and establish our rights to the land. As there had
been no word from Bencher Blakiston, I went to see him, to discover whether he had traced the charter or whether he could help us find it. He told us that he was acting for one of the companies of adventurers and so it would be a conflict of interests for him to help us.’
I had decided I would say nothing about Edmund Dillingworth and his almost certain connection with the attack on me.
‘Indeed,’ Whittaker said, ‘it would be a conflict of interests.’
‘But you see, he was retained by Sir John for the express purpose of finding the charter.’ I swallowed. Having come this far, I must make my point. ‘I wondered whether you might speak to Bencher Blakiston? Ask whether he has been able to trace the charter? If he can give any advice? Coming from you, as a disinterested party, it would not be so much a conflict of interests.’ My voice trailed away in uncertainty.
Whittaker looked at me in astonishment.
‘But that would be most improper! I could not make such an approach to a distinguished colleague, a senior Bencher of another Inn. Besides, it would be for me, also, a conflict of interests.’
‘I am sorry,’ I said. ‘I do not understand.’
‘I am myself retained,’ he said, ‘by a company with property in Cambridgeshire. It is a well-established, reputable concern, which is working to convert a marshy wilderness into useful farmland.’
My heart gave a painful jerk as I felt the blood rising in my face. Cambridgeshire! This was the very drainage scheme that had cost my grandfather his life, though by now there might be other men, faceless men hiding behind their agents like Blakiston and Whittaker, who were in charge.
I scrambled awkwardly to my feet.
‘I am sorry to have troubled you, sir.’
‘You were not to know.’ He gave me a small smile, which seemed genuine enough. ‘Continue your search. If you can find the charter, you should have a good case at law. However, I cannot help you.’
