Frobisher's Savage

by Leonard Tourney

  to clamorous demands that Nicholas and Adam be delivered up straightway.

  “They are not here,” Matthew said, searching the assembly for a friendly face. But he saw none. The townsmen seemed like strangers, all bundled up in their cloaks and heavy winter hats and many of them visibly shivering, with cold or excitement it was impossible to tell.

  The crowd behind the coroner waited for no explanation but continued to give cries of anger and complaint, and the accusations flung at him were not that Matthew had negligently let his guests flee but that he was deliberately concealing them from lawful authority. Demands to search the clothier’s house and even to burn the malefactors out if need be came from every direction, and sometimes from persons Matthew accounted as his good friends.

  Matthew shut the door behind him and stepped out into the street so that he was practically nose to nose with Vernon. The clothier hoped his wife knew she was to prepare the house against the invasion of this unruly assembly.

  It took several minutes for Vernon to quiet the crowd so that Matthew’s protest that he was concealing no one could be heard. In the meantime, Matthew’s more immediate neighbors in the High Street, having heard the commotion, streamed out of their houses to join the crowd, despite the bracing temperature and the difficulty of movement in the already crowded street.

  “Don’t believe him, Master Vernon!” cried Agnes, who stood right next to the doorpost. “We brought Henry Sawyer to him last night and Henry told him all that he had seen. Stock was fully aware of the guilt of these two men, on the word of a reliable witness. He even promised to accompany us to the manor house this morning. Let him not lie then and tell us he did not do so. A hundred persons in this company heard him. ”

  Shouts of affirmation came from the crowd at Agnes’s words, and Matthew heard still more demands that the house be searched. Now the prospect of violent entry was more immi-

  nent. Matthew prayed that Sir Thomas would come with his servants and establish the order he was himself beyond establishing.

  “I do not deny my promise,” Matthew said loudly. “But the persons you seek left my house by night while I slept.”

  “Yea, you slept,” Agnes cried, “as well you might, with murderers under your roof. Admit you told them of the evidence against them and admonished them to flee.”

  “I never did,” Matthew shouted back, realizing as he did so that it was vain to debate the point with Agnes, who was determined to find him an accomplice in the escape of the suspects and whose shrill voice was immeasurably superior to his own when it came to being heard by the noisy crowd.

  “Whether you knew or did not know of their flight,” Vernon said in the magisterial tone he had used at the inquest, “you should have taken proper care of these men. While no warrant was issued against them and you were not obliged to serve it if there were, still you had been informed of this worthy man’s testimony and should have expected that a warrant would be forthcoming as soon as I was apprised of this new matter. Thanks be to God that this good woman”—he nodded at Agnes—“brought me Henry Sawyer as a witness, which leaves little doubt of the malice of Adam Nemo and raises such questions concerning Nicholas Crookback’s complicity in these murders as to make the imprisonment of both of them a logical certainty.”

  Matthew wanted to say—and would probably have done so had he the capacity to be heard above the uproar—that Henry Sawyer was at best a dubious witness of another man’s perfidy, Sawyer having a reputation as an idle person whose practice was to exchange good stories for ale and beer, but he knew this was neither the time nor place. His chief concern was to prevent what was surely to be the ruinous invasion of his house, which he could hardly have stopped by impugning the character of a witness the crowd had decided was reliable. He turned from Agnes to Vernon, who despite the uproar still seemed to hold his place as spokesman for the assembly.

  “My house and shop are but modest in size, good sirs,” Matthew said. “Since I speak truly when I say the persons you seek are not within, I have no objection to your confirming my words with your own eyes. But I beseech you as a neighbor, do not do my house or family violence. If a multitude enters in, will the house hold them? Will they not in their zeal break windows and doors, endangering themselves as well as my house? My merchandise might be lost, or other damage done to possessions years in the getting. I pray you have respect too for my wife and daughter, who are also in the house and surely terrified by this civil unrest.”

  Matthew’s words seemed to have a calming effect on the crowd, who became less noisy than before. Vernon seemed especially appeased by Matthew’s request, although Matthew suspected that the use of the daunting phrase, “civil unrest,” had done more than compassion had to curb the coroner’s aggressiveness.

  “Master Vernon, you are welcome to come in, you and say two or three other of these present who dispute my word. ”

  Agnes Profytt at once offered herself as one of the inspection party, but Vernon chose William Dees and the parson, who had just come up from the church to see what all the hurly-burly was, to accompany him inside. Vernon told the others to surround the house to see that none escaped through windows or back door.

  “There’s none within to escape,” Matthew said, trying to make his voice sound as calm as possible. “As I said, the persons you seek departed during the night, while I and the rest of the house slept. Nonetheless, enter as you please.”

  Vernon, Dees, and the parson now entered the main chamber of the first floor, which was Matthew’s shop, looking rather shamefast, Matthew thought, as though they were unsure what to do now that they had got their own way. They glanced at the heavily laden tables on which Matthew’s store of cloth was displayed, and the parson felt the material as if he were contemplating a purchase, while Vernon walked into the kitchen and peered up into the chimney as though he ex-

  pected the two fugitives to be concealed there. William Dees stood awkwardly in the center of the room, his long arms dangling at his side like an ape’s.

  As the search party climbed the stairs, they encountered Joan on the landing. She was standing as straight as a post, her arms folded across her breast. Matthew could see that there was a dangerous look in her dark eyes.

  “These men seek Adam and Nicholas,” Matthew said. “I invited them in when they would not believe me when I told them the two had left earlier.”

  “What?” Joan said without softening her expression. “They would not believe you? Why not? Are you an infamous liar whose every second word must be questioned? God in heaven, if you are not offended by their mistrust, then, by your leave, let me express my own offense.”

  “We meant no offense, Mistress Stock,” said the parson quickly in a conciliatory voice. “But we thought it best to be sure.”

  “Well, now,” said Joan, looking at the parson, for whom she had no great liking, with something very like contempt. “I find it strange indeed that a man of faith cannot take on faith the word of one of his own congregation, who pays an honest tithe and hardly misses a Sabbath in his pew. ”

  “We know your husband to be an honest man, Mistress Stock,” said the parson, even more abashed than before.

  “If we can take a quick look upstairs, we will be on our way again, and we promise to disturb no member of your household,” Vernon said.

  “Marry, good sirs, you won’t find them that you seek upstairs or anywhere else in my house,” Joan said. “There is only I and my daughter. We have searched the house ourselves and are more than satisfied that Adam and Nicholas have gone.” “Still, we would like to see for ourselves,” Vernon said. “And we must not be denied. Your honest husband has wisely given us permission to search your house. Now we pray you, let us pass, in the queen’s name.”

  Joan didn’t move. She stood as she had stood before—if any-

  thing her expression darkened—and her full lips were pressed tightly shut. She glared at Vernon. “My honest husband may say what he wills, but this is my house you
have entered and my own bedchamber you and these worthy persons with you are about to inspect. If an honest housewife tells you there is no man hiding beneath her bed, should she not be believed? Have you any reason to suspect I am telling anything but the truth? What say you, Master Parson?”

  Matthew turned slightly to observe the parson’s response. The man seemed completely unnerved. Matthew looked at Vernon questioningly.

  Joan turned to the stonemason. “And what of you, William Dees? I know your wife and am certain she would not be content to have her own bedchamber searched in the manner you propose. Would you not defend her right to tell those interlopers where they might look instead, if they insist on invading an honest woman’s home? I trow you would, given that I know you to be an honest man and a decent husband, as husbands go in this wicked world.”

  “I would defend her right, Mistress Stock,” Dees conceded.

  “I would know too by what proper authority this search is undertaken, Master Vernon,” Joan said, turning her attention back to the coroner, who during this time had advanced no farther up the stairs. “Have you a warrant for the arrest of the persons you seek, or have you leave of the magistrate to search the house of an honest townsman, one in whom Sir Thomas has put much trust? What will he think when he learns that one appointed by him to find out the truth of these mysterious matters is treated no better than a common criminal? Will he not be offended?”

  “We will only take a few minutes in our search, Mistress Stock,” Vernon said with a glance behind him at the parson, who had already retreated somewhat down the stairs during this confrontation.

  “It matters not how much time it takes, Master Vernon,” Joan said firmly. “The rub is not time, but the event itself. This is my house. I have told you there is none here you seek. I do

  deny you permission to search it and ask you, if you honor the law, to secure permission to do so in a lawful way. What now would you think were you to return to your house only to find an unruly multitude demanding entrance on some pretext? Would you not be concerned for the safety of your family, for the integrity of your treasure, whatever it may be? By our blessed Lord, I think you would. Do as the Scriptures say, Master Vernon: Do the good you would that others do to you.”

  Having quoted sacred writ, Joan looked meaningfully at the parson. Then she fixed an icy stare on Vernon.

  “I must insist, Mistress Stock,” Vernon said.

  “My good wife has said no, Master Vernon, and now I see the wisdom of her defiance. The law must be obeyed if we are to honor the queen, whose great name you invoked just now. But the law is the law, and the law of England is such that a man’s home cannot be invaded without just cause. If Sir Thomas as magistrate commands me, then my doors shall be open to whomever he deems should enter. Otherwise, I must join my wife in insisting that you leave our house.”

  There was an awkward moment during which Matthew was unsure what his support of Joan’s position might have wrought. His heart pounded, and he was damp beneath his shirt, but Joan showed no wavering from her resolve and he was determined not to surrender either. The parson and even Dees already looked as though they were ready to depart in peace, but Vernon still seemed unprepared to leave. He was a young gentleman, full of his new authority but also unsure of himself, and it was clear to Matthew that to be put to flight by a sturdy English housewife would shame him. On the other hand, Vernon had secured entrance to the house over Matthew’s initial objection; perhaps, Matthew supposed, Vernon would reason that he had accomplished enough, had made his point. Matthew hoped this was the case, for he wanted no trouble with Vernon or his neighbors, or with his wife, now it came to that issue.

  “Well,” said Vernon, turning to glance at his companions, “I suppose we have seen enough. We will take your word,

  Mistress Stock, that the men have gone, and we will report the fruits of our search to those who wait without.”

  Joan Stock did not alter her stare or stance during Vernon’s short speech but stood as before, her arms across her chest as though the sanctity of her upstairs was as great a treasure to her as her personal virtue. Matthew suppressed a sigh of relief; his heart beat less quickly.

  Vernon and the other two men descended the stairs. Matthew followed them out through the shop and closed the door behind them, but through the sturdy oak he could hear Vernon declaim that the house had been searched from top to bottom, omitting mention of the fact that to search the upper floors had not been a privilege accorded him. He then announced that he was going to the manor house to see Sir Thomas. He said that all who wished to accompany him might do so. From their window Matthew and Joan, who had come downstairs after Vernon’s retreat, watched while almost the entire multitude moved off after the coroner.

  “They are not willing to miss a thing, are they?” she said. “Not a thing.”

  He turned to look at his wife and kissed her on the forehead, which was smooth and warm to his lips. “You were magnificent, Joan. You have more backbone than I, for I let Vernon in. and it was against my better judgment, too.”

  “And in doing so, saved our house from the rage of the town,” Joan said. “You acted wisely, husband. Vernon is a coward, and a cockscomb. I know his kind. Like almost all men, he is a lion when he has a hundred at his back, but when only two or three remain he is as timorous as a mouse, and easily defeated if he meets stem resistance. ”

  “But you showed a manly courage in keeping him downstairs.”

  “You mean I showed a womanly courage,” she said, lifting her chin. “For I know not why men should gamer a fighting spirit to themselves as though it were as peculiar to their sex as that bawdy part that dangles twixt their legs.”

  He laughed at this and granted that women could show as much strength of heart as men.

  “And yet I was afraid, if truth be told,” she said.

  “Afraid?”

  “Afraid he would see me shaking and think me afraid. Afraid for you and what his anger at you might cause. But I have no fear now.”

  “As well you should not,” Matthew said. “If he complains to Sir Thomas he was forbade the search of our whole house, he will make public how he was put to flight by a housewife.”

  “A breed not to be taken lightly, husband.”

  “Curse me with the pox twice over if ever I do,” he said, kissing her again.

  Matthew followed his neighbors to the manor house, which lay only three miles off. It was hardly an hour’s walk. But what an odd picture this excursion made. Several hundred men, women, and children and not a few dogs on a frigid morning, shuffling along the high road as though in flight from battle or plague.

  It was clear that this was to be another day in which there would be no work done, despite the want of official permission. Yet this was no holiday crowd, full of merriment and mischief. Their faces were grim and determined, and growing raw from the heartless wind. Most of all, they were afraid. Matthew knew their minds. It might be warm enough indoors, but who wanted to be alone in his house with murderers at large? In company there was some measure of safety, even if the company was out-of-doors.

  They had not traveled half the distance to the manor house when a group of horsemen approached, which group turned out to include the very man they sought, a handful of his servants, and another gentleman, who was dressed in a somber black cloak and a black, high-crowned hat pulled down over his ears, so that he made a fearful impression with his dark clothes and his solemn, jowly face, and eyes that seemed as cold as the wind.

  Matthew, who brought up the rear of the townsmen, now made his way to the front, where Vernon was talking to Sir Thomas.

  “Master Stock, there you are!” Sir Thomas said, motioning

  him to approach nearer. Sir Thomas turned to the cloaked gentleman at his right. “This is he of whom I spoke to you,” he told Matthew, ‘ ‘Master Simeon Fuller, down from the university.”

  The magistrate rattled off the black-robed, solemn personage’s other distinctions, but Mat
thew made little sense of them and afterwards was unsure as to whether Fuller was a cleric or lawyer or physician, or perhaps all three. The important thing Matthew grasped was that he was given his official release as acting constable.

  Matthew made the gentleman a polite bow, but Fuller acknowledged Matthew with only a quick, noncommittal glance before looking beyond him to the crowd that was now forming a circle around the magistrate and his companions.

  “We have a witness, Sir Thomas,” Vernon said, pushing Henry Sawyer to the forefront. “This man can testify that Adam Nemo swore to kill John Crookback, and we believe Nicholas Crookback was his accomplice in murdering his own kin.”

  Matthew watched while Sawyer told a tale very like the one he had told the night before, but greatly embellished, making Adam’s dislike for John Crookback more forceful and malign. When Sawyer completed his narrative, several other persons, including William Dees, then came forward to assert that they also believed Adam Nemo hated John Crookback, although no one furnished any particulars as to why Adam should, nor did anyone seem to think that question was important. It seemed taken for granted rather that Adam, being a foreigner, should have enmity for John Crookback, who was as English as the soil beneath their feet.

  When these testimonies were given, Sir Thomas turned to Fuller and asked him what he thought.

  Fuller, who as yet had not spoken a word but sat his mount frigid with dignity, either, Matthew supposed, because of the cold or because he disliked where he was, said nothing for what seemed a long time. Nor did Sir Thomas hurry his response.

  Finally he said, “I think these worthy persons have spoken honestly, but that we should not act without further inquiry. I would know more of the evidence against the individuals named, the motive for the crimes, what was to be gained or lost in committing the evil of Cain against his brother. Men do not kill other men without cause.”

  There was a murmur of disappointment at Fuller’s words. The crowd seemed prepared to go off immediately in search of the accused. But Sir Thomas agreed that there should be more investigation before the hue and cry was raised, and in his own mind, although there was little in Simeon Fuller’s intimidating appearance or rigid demeanor for Matthew to approve, he did think that the man’s caution was fitting. What evidence, after all, had been presented against Nicholas and Adam but gossip and the dubious testimony of Agnes Profytt and the even less credible witness of a notorious idler like Henry Sawyer?