Miriam Bibby - Mistress Meg 02 - Mistress Meg and the Silver Bell

by Miriam Bibby

  “Well, I am content with the woodland course,” said George, thinking that it would give an opportunity for skilful riding.

  “Very well,” said Richard. “I am happy with your choice, George. Galingale is sure-footed and the going will suit him well. And he flies obstacles like a bird. I have heard that The Fly, perhaps despite his name, does not …”

  “Are you sure that Sir John will approve then?”

  “The Fly will manage the bank, if not as skilfully as Galingale. I think Sir John will be depending on the horse’s speed to get ahead and keep that lead. But I doubt if he can do that over three trials. There is an advantage for him in agreeing the shorter course, because I think The Fly will be winded before Galingale … “

  “That is useful knowledge,” said George. “Y’make no mention of Davison’s lad, though?”

  “He’ll do well to keep either of you in view!”

  “Let us hope so,” said George.

  * * * * *

  The Guildern pigman, who had lodged himself in Marcaster to await Clink’s trial, was surprised, but not displeased, when a small boy arrived with a message to say that his father had some pigs for sale and would he come and look at them? After all, his principal business on this side of the country had been as a regrater - purchasing young pigs and arranging to have them fattened and sent to wherever he could find the most lucrative market for them. Acting as a middleman like this was seen as almost a moral crime, but for the pigman it was all in a day’s work.

  And so he found himself following the lad through a maze of streets and alleys in Marcaster, to a dirty, rundown and derelict-looking row of cottages. The roof of one was burned and fallen in and the whole row looked deserted. Still - this was certainly a place where pigs might be kept. There was the smell and look of piggeries about it and when dwellings were abandoned they were often used for storage or animal housing. The boy gestured to him to come along.

  “How far now, lad?” asked the pigman.

  “Just here, master,” said the lad. “Back o’ this wall.”

  As the pigman walked round the corner, he was grabbed by several people and a gag forced into his mouth. Then a sack - a very smelly sack - was put over his head and his arms were pinned to his body by a rope encircling him. The next thing he knew was that he was being hustled inside some building - things went even darker in an instant - and dumped into a wet, stinking place. His legs were fastened up quickly and finally the sack was removed and replaced by a blindfold. He realised that not only was he tied up, he was fastened to a ring in the wall that permitted him only enough freedom to lie on the floor.

  “Mmmmfff, fffmmmfff!” said the pigman, trying to kick and hurl himself about. He guessed that there were three or four of them - it was hard to tell precisely.

  “See how ye like it, then!” said a woman’s voice. There was the sound of a door shutting and something that might be a piece of wood being rammed against it hard. Then - nothing.

  “Fmmmphh nnnmfffmphhh!” said the pigman, kicking his bound feet out wildly in frustration.

  Distantly, there came the sound of a woman’s raucous laughter.

  * * * * *

  George had been in court before when Judge Samuel Selby was presiding and so he had some idea of what to expect. It was difficult to say who was more in awe of Judge Selby; criminals or the officers of the law. There was certainly silence in court when he came stamping irritably into the courtroom. The Clerk of the Assizes did not have to ask for all to rise; they were already standing and the room was so quiet that even a dropped pin would not dare to make a noise.

  The air was filled with the smell of herbs. Rosemary, rue and lemon balm predominated, as they were strewn everywhere, but there was also the fresh scent of lavender and the rich odour of southernwood. All the court officials, including the judge, carried tussiemussies with the same herbs in them to help ward off sickness, since jails, criminals and courtrooms were held to be sources of disease. Some of the people in the courtroom carried comfort apples, which were apples stuffed with cloves, with the same purpose as the tussiemussies. As the day went on, the fresh, strong scents would be overcome by the smell of humanity.

  Judge Selby was small, irascible and sandy-haired, with a face that could quickly turn purple and eyes that seemed to pop from his head when roused to anger. He dominated the bench. George, taking careful mental notes to recount to Sim afterwards, thought that he would enjoy teasing his cousin that this was the fate that awaited him in due course if he rose to authority and did not curb his own peppery temper.

  “S’blood, as you would say, cousin,” he imagined himself saying, “I swear, I could see a similarity betwixt you both - only you have the advantage of more hair than Judge Selby - for the present.”

  Selby was looking down the list of presentments as though he had never seen it before. Then he sniffed and looked around the courtroom with a bored expression on his face whilst the Clerk read it out. The first on the list was Clink, who had given one of his various names to the constable who had collared him. So it was that “John Parkins” was brought into court and stood up before the judge and jury.

  Clink seemed thin and poor to Ruby, who was perched on the end of a bench in the public part of the court, hoping that Sir George would not see or remember her. Clink was so white and unhappy looking that her heart went out to him. The people around her were not really interested in Clink’s trial. They were awaiting the arrival of the villain who had threatened the horses the previous year and who had yesterday been in court accused of murdering the old man in a robbery. He had been found guilty and would hang for sure and if Clink hanged too, well, all the more fun, thought the crowd. Ruby found herself twisting her hands together in an agonised way. If only their ruse worked; few people passed by where they’d left the pigman and, God willing, there he’d stay till it was all over. Then they’d let him out. This must work. It had to work.

  The Clerk of the Assizes was asking Sir George to step forward for a last word on, the deposition he had brought. Then he glanced round the court. Not seeing what, or rather, who he wanted, he spoke to George and then the judge. Selby’s face began to turn purple.

  “Well, man, where in God’s name is he? Eh? Eh?”

  George, realising that the principal witness - and victim - was missing, prepared for the explosion. The Clerk sent a messenger scurrying off to the pigman’s lodgings in search of him. Selby waited, irritably drumming his fingers, for some time. Suddenly he banged his fist down hard on the arm of his chair.

  “I’ll wait no longer, man! This case is already rotten with irregularities and Justice Brough himself is not in attendance due to some indisposition. Feeble-witted, the lot of you! What have we next on the list? Eh?”

  Clink was removed again and the next case brought. Proceedings moved along fairly swiftly through minor matters until they reached the principal event of the day. When the short, stocky bald man was brought in chains to be sentenced, accompanied by two strong warders with cudgels, George looked at Giddens with interest. After all, this criminal had threatened Richard’s horses - and his family. The man looked as though he had great strength and spirit and on a couple of times it seemed he would shake off his warders’ restraining grip and reach for the judge. He reminded George of a bulldog he had once seen that had pulled its handler off his feet and dragged him along the ground.

  Judge Selby seemed to relish the murderer’s proximity. Yesterday he had taken little interest in the uncontested evidence and, now that the man had been found guilty, he sentenced him to hang with as little compunction as if he had been sending him to have his hair cut. Of the various methods of capital punishment available for such a notable robbery, Selby decided that Giddens was to be hanged until dead and then his body taken to Gibbet Hill and exposed in a cage. The prisoner was taken out bellowing and threatening the judge. It took five men to remove him safely and the courtroom was filled with gasps and murmurs. George found that he was watching Selby wid
e-eyed, much as he might regard an unpredictable animal.

  Passing the death sentence seemed to leave the judge in as good a mood as if he had eaten a grand meal. He settled peaceably onto the bench and almost smiled. There was some discussion as to what should be done regarding Clink, with the judge increasingly of the opinion that it was growing late and the case should be dismissed.

  “Hell take it, man!” he said to the Clerk, although everyone could hear it. “If the victim himself is not sufficiently concerned to appear … and I am sure Sir George and Sir Richard have more important matters to attend … eh? Eh?”

  George murmured something. The judge prepared to leave the court. Everyone stood up. Then it was, to Ruby’s horror, that a man came hurriedly into the courtroom, pushing aside the officials that tried to stop him. Reeking, covered in dirt, with filth all over his face, the pigman was the personification of an indignant victim. He started on a long explanation of what had happened to keep him from court.

  “Oh my Lord,” said Ruby, putting a hand to her face to hide it.

  “I know,” said the woman she was pressed next to on the crowded bench. “Stinks to high heaven, don’t he?” And she put her hand over her nose.

  Ruby drew her kerchief up over her and did her best to disappear. Surely it was too late to bring Clink back today?

  Selby refused to listen to what the pigman was saying about how he’d been fastened up in a pigsty until his exertions pulled the ring out of the wall so that he could hurl himself against the door and force it open.

  “Go and clean thyself somewhat, man!” said the judge. Then, turning to the Clerk, “It should not take long. It’s a felony of which the criminal is accused and now that we have the victim to bear witness we’ll get through it speedily.” The judge, getting a whiff of the departing pigman, pinched his nose. “Let’s be od with it, od man! Phew!” He wafted a hand irritably at one of the court servants, who handed him his tussiemussie rich with lavender and rosemary. Ruby, taking advantage of the commotion in court, slipped away quietly. Once outside, she started to sob, seeing no hope for Clink now. She hurried off, not even going to find the Frog or Moll, who were in an alehouse nearby waiting to hear news.

  The pigman returned, slightly cleaner and the case began. The Clerk called the pigman to witness. The Clerk’s face was serious but his eyes were shining with malicious glee. George prepared himself, because he knew what was coming.

  “I call on Barnabas Piggen to bear witness against the accused!”

  There was uproar in court in an instant, despite the presiding judge.

  “Piggen!”

  “Barnabas PIGGEN!”

  George leaned forward and turned his face away, putting a hand up to hide his laughter. Thank goodness Sim was not here, because order would never be restored. The bench he and Richard were sitting on shook with the combined mirth of the court officials and witnesses on it. Judge Selby rose slowly to his feet and raised a hand to the Clerk.

  “SILENCE IN COURT!” bellowed Selby, dragging the words out. His eyes almost popped from his head as they stared slowly around the courtroom, fixing themselves on the worst offenders. Silence fell, save for someone murmuring, “Good set of lungs on him, eh?”

  “SILENCE!” shouted the judge again, banging his fist on the Bench. “SILENCE, I say!” He sat down, but continued to look around the courtroom belligerently.

  George was put in mind of his schooldays. “I thought we were all for a caning,” he imagined telling Sim, over a glass, later.

  “Now, man, get on with it! We’ve had to make all kinds of accommodation for ye.” Selby subsided grumpily and the pigman began his testimony. The judge quickly waved aside any objections from the attorneys. He evidently intended to oversee most of the case himself to ensure a speedy conclusion.

  “I am Barnabas Piggen - ” Selby looked round the courtroom warningly. George bit his lip. ” - a husbandman of Malton Cross, near Guildern.

  “Husbandman? Are you not a hog drover?” said the judge with a frown.

  “In a way, your honour, y’see, I have various employments, all to do with pigs, or mainly with pigs. Now, the thing about pigs is …”

  “Hmmm. Well, never mind that now. Proceed with your tale.”

  “On Guildern Fair day, last, I was in Guildern taking a drink to quench my thirst after a poor day’s trading. Y’see, your honours, I’d taken my best pigs to …”

  The pigman rambled for some time whilst Selby grew more and more testy. Finally he erupted.

  “Heaven send us, man! Get to it.”

  Piggen told of the events in Guildern leading to the cutting of his purse, the capture of the rogues and the giving of a statement to Master Simon Cantle, Justice of the Commission of the Queen’s Peace.

  “Deposition,” said the judge, snapping his fingers. “Brought by Sir George Paston?” George nodded. Selby glanced down the list and handed it to the Clerk.

  George corroborated what the pigman said and recounted the disappearance of the rogues from the Guildern lock-up.

  “And you, man!” said the judge, glancing at Clink. “What have ye to say for yourself? Eh? Come along, this will be thy only opportunity.”

  “Well - your honour - ” began Clink, slowly, “first of all, I haven’t heard the evidence t’say - your honour - that I cut the purse meself …”

  “Ye’ve heard the evidence given by Barnabas Piggen, ha’n’t ye?” said the judge in a jocular fashion.

  “Aye,” said Clink, still slowly, but gathering confidence as he went on. “But that - excuse me, your honour - is in the way of his word against mine, ain’t it?”

  “There’s another witness to it!” shouted the pigman. “I’d never have noticed, if me attention hadn’t been drawn to it by him! It’s in the deposition.”

  “Quiet, man!” said the judge. “But, that is so; I recall it.”

  “But that witness isn’t here - your honour,” said Clink.

  “Hmmmph,” said the judge. “Well, Parkins, if that’s truly your name, let’s have your version of events.”

  Clink took a deep breath. “Well, sir,” he began, “finding meself in Guildern on the day of the fair, and having transacted the business I had come to do …”

  “Business? What business?” said the judge sceptically.

  “Ermmm - a delivery, like,” said Clink, with sudden inspiration. “A delivery of - of - some - mended - mended - aye, that was it - some mended kettles and the like to one of the inns …”

  The judge was regarding him through narrowed eyes.

  “Which inn?” he asked.

  “I don’t rightly recall,” said Clink, frowning and rubbing his chin. “No, I don’t rightly recall. There’s a lot come between then and now …”

  “Hmmmmph,” said the judge again. “Continue.”

  “I met with some new companions, like, as ye do, as your honour knows, standing on little previous acquaintance on a fair day, when all is easy and liberal, as your honour well knows - “

  “Get on with it,” said the judge.

  “And we agreed to stand one another a bouse - I mean, a drink - or two, in friendship, for all our ventures had prospered that day - “

  “I can imagine,” said Judge Selby. Someone tittered at the back of the courtroom.

  “And so we found ourselves together in a boozing-ken - begging your honour’s pardon, an alehouse, a cleanly one like, not one of your stalling-kens or the like, where they exchange goods badly come by, as your honour knows - well, anyhow, here we were, having a quiet bouse - drink - together, knowing it was a good house where we wasn’t going to be robbed …”

  “Get on with it,” said the judge again.

  “And one of me new acquaintances, never got her name - she begins telling that cove - man - there - ” Clink nodded at the pigman, “his fortune, like, but I don’t think it was meant to be true, just in jest - but he starts to think it true, I do believe - “

  Clink paused and glared at the pigman, who gl
ared back.

  “And it’s then that I see that his purse strings has frayed and it’s about to break and I’m just about to tell ‘im when somebody shouts that it’s been cut and I’m the one that’s done it!”

  “It was cut!” shouted the pigman. “And as for having my fortune told, I never did believe that! I was trying to rid myself of the troublesome wench - clinging fast to my hand, she was - that’s when you cut the purse!”

  “Quiet, man! We may give you an opportunity to question the prisoner if it seems appropriate.” The judge turned to George. “It states in the deposition that it was cut - was it so?”

  George stood up. “I - did not see the purse myself, Judge Selby. However, if my cousin - if Justice Cantle - has approved the description in the deposition, then it was of a certainty cut.”