Times -- Ch. 06

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May You Live in Interesting Times

Chapter Six

William and James sat at a crude table in the bar, and William listened to the men talk. He occasionally added a comment or two, always keeping the men talking about politics and the troubles. He only sipped at his beer, but continued to buy rounds for the table, thus quickly becoming popular. The men knew that James had taken a position at a posh house, and William said he worked there as well, without specifying what job.

After several hours the men at that table became too drunk to make sense, including James, so William looked around the tavern. He saw some military-looking types at another table that had a spare seat, so he moved over to it.

“Would you gents object to a civilian joining you? I could spring for a few rounds if you wish,” William said.

“Aye, if you bring more ale, then you are most welcome,” said a man with an empty mug. “Besides, Billy and me aren’t going to be military in the future.” He showed that he had a badly wounded arm, and Billy was missing a leg just above the knee.

“The king took the other half at Hull,” Billy said. “We was outnumbered, but we holds out until Charlie got tired of it all and went somewhere else to play. Jerry took a gunshot in the arm, and busted the bone. It didn’t set very well, so he is now an ex-soldier like me.”

William talked to the five men for several hours, but this time was buying rounds more slowly so they wouldn’t get drunk so soon. William, as the Hobbit, had studied the Siege of Hull extensively, but the men gave him valuable new information in explaining their part in it. At one point he brought out a piece of paper and a pencil, and sketched the castle, claiming to have been there at one time. Then the men pointed out strongpoints, and areas where the Royalists had attacked, giving dates and times, how long the skirmishes lasted, and the results, which William noted on another piece of paper.

To the soldiers he was just an interested liveryman who wanted to know what had happened. One soldier joked that perhaps he was a spy, and William joked back that spies look for things that will happen in the future, and not what happened in the past. After that the men were even more open.

It was well after midnight when the men started getting too drunk to talk, so William went back to his first table and gathered up James, who was snoring with his head in his arms. William roused him, and led him out of the bar and headed home, with William keeping a firm grip on James’ shoulder, since the stable manager had a tendency to weave alarmingly back and forth otherwise.

At the house the night porter let them in, and William ordered the man to take James around outside to his room in the stables. The man was looking more and more as if he was going to vomit, and William didn’t want to have to wake maids to clean it up. He locked the door behind him, and then slowly made his way up the stairs to his room. He had barely gotten his workman’s clothes off when he heard a clamor at the door. He heard the night porter rushing back through the house to find out what was happening. William decided to put on one of the fine robes that Abi had purchased for him and go down to see what the clamor was.

At the door he found the Duke, and four other men, looking quite angry. “There he is,” the Duke said, slightly tipsy himself. “He is my cousin, and he will pay you. With that the Duke slumped to the floor.”

“Pay you what?” William demanded.

The man who appeared to be the leader of the four spoke: “Your Lord has lost at gambling, and says you will pay. It is £218.”

“I will pay no such thing,” William said. “I gave the Duke £10 to gamble. Anything beyond that is not my business.”

“The £10 was gone in two minutes,” the Duke mewled. “I couldn’t come home so soon. I figured I would win some eventually, and be able to pay. My luck needs to change some time.”

“It hasn’t served you well for the past dozen years, has it,” William retorted. “Yet you persist.”

“No problem,” the man said. “We will just take goods worth £200. Take that table, and that vase. That should make £50” He pointed to have his henchmen take the goods and looked around for more to take.

“Now just a minute,” William said. “If you touch anything in this house I will have you charged with robbery. This house and everything in it is mine. The Duke is a pauper. He doesn’t even own the clothes he is wearing. I do. And I say you will get nothing from me.”

The man got redder and redder as he realized he was not going to get his money. “Then your cousin will be called up to the Common Pleas court, and will live in the Fleet until he comes up with the money.” With that the men spun about and left.

“Go to your room, John,” William told the Duke as they made their way to the stairs. “You have made a right mess of things, haven’t you?”

“You won’t let them take me to the Fleet, will you? I can’t imagine living in a prison.”

“You leave me no choice,” William said. “If I cover your debts this time, then it will be known that I fund you, and any future debts will come to me. This house was nearly lost once due to gambling, it will not happen again on my watch.”

“But I have no income. How will I pay off the debt?”

“You get £10 a week. I will hold onto that until your debt is cleared,” William said.

“No! I need that money. In the Fleet I could probably gamble for hours with £10.”

“You would rather spend the rest of your life in prison than go a few months without gambling?” William asked in amazement. Just as amazing was the length of time that the Duke spent thinking over the options.

“No, I guess I need the money to pay the debt,” the Duke said as they reached the top of the stairs.

“I suggest you not mention this to the Duchess tonight,” William said as they parted ways to their individual rooms.

--- -- --- -- -

Earlier that evening Abigail had her first reading class, and she was surprised to see nearly two dozen staff members, including Joe, come to the great room to see what she had for them.

Kensing and Winthrope had again been shopping, and at Abi’s request had stopped in a stationer’s shop, where they bought 12 slate boards, and some chalk. Abigail found neither the slate nor the chalk to be anything like she had experienced in the 21st century. The chalk was hard and made only a thin scratch on the slate, which was much rougher than she had expected. As well, they had picked up some blank sheets of paper, and some broadside tracts complaining about the King. She had asked for 50 of these, which only cost 2 shillings. People would buy these in bulk from the stationers, and then sell them for a penny each on the street, more than doubling their money. Abigail had other uses for them.

When everyone was settled down on the two rows of benches, Abigail started. Delilah had come up, and since she read well, the cook was to be assistant teacher, and she handed out the slates to pairs of people.

“We will start by learning the alphabet,” Abigail said, getting a sheet of paper and drawing a capital ‘A’ on a sheet of paper. “This is the letter ‘A’: or at least one version of it. There are also two different lower case ‘A’s and several variations in handwriting. We start with this version, since it is the easiest to draw. Almost the easiest of all the letters. Two sloped lines, and then a line that connect them. You might think it looks like the old conical hats women wore long ago. Now I want each of you to draw an ‘A’ like this on your slate. When one is finished, flip the slate so your partner can try.”

Abigail and Delilah went through the group, each starting at one end of the benches. They complimented those who got the shape right, although that was not frequent. Most of the comments were “good try” or tips like “Try to make the cross stoke go all the way from one line to the other, and not past.”

Joe actually had one of the perfect shapes, so he was sent down to the kitchen to get some damp rags. He ran, of course, and Ami smiled. The happy little fellow seemed to run everywhere, and always had a smile on his face. Other faces on the benches were not smiling. One or more tongues were stuck out as the students concentrated to get acceptable shapes. They simply drew over top of prior versions until Joe returned with rags, used to wipe the slates clean.

After a time, all the students could make an acceptable ‘A’ and Abigail went to get another sheet of paper.

“The capital letter is used at the start of a sentence, at the start of a name, and some other places. Some signs and titles are made entirely of the capital letters. But there is also a lower case letter which is used elsewhere. I know of two main shapes that are used in different places for the lower ‘a’.” She drew a simple primer ‘a’ on the top half of the paper. “This shape is fairly easy to draw. A circle with a stick on the side. A lot of lower letters are like this. The difference is whether the stick is short or long, and whether the long ones go up or down. The side the stick is on is also important. But don’t worry about that now. Finally, I need to show you the other form, which is used in printed materials. It looks like a face, with a little hat drawn over it, like this.”

The students then made their attempts. More were getting the hang of the chalk and slate, and got the primer ‘a’ easily, although some of the circles were less than perfect. The printer’s ‘a’ was more work. Abigail noticed a few where the cap was on backwards. Also, the staff was having trouble with the idea that the bottom loop was more of an oval than the circle of the primer ‘a’. Finally, everyone seemed to get it.

“Okay class, I think we will just have the one letter today. But the important thing for you is that you can recognize it among other letters. So Delilah is handing out some broadsheets we bought so you could find the letters in it. You will find the capital ‘A’ sometimes, and the printer’s ‘a’ more often. But I don’t think that you will find any primer ‘a’s.

Joe gathered the slates, and Delilah handed a broadsheet to each student. Soon all the students were pouring through the mass of text, exclaiming when they found an ‘A’ or an ‘a’.

“Milady, I found a primer ‘a’,” one of the stablemen said. Abigail went to look.

“No Peter, that is not an ‘a’. See how the stick goes up above the circle? That makes it a ‘d’. There is a funny thing about the ‘d’. If you could twist it around so it was upside down, it would be a ‘p’, which is the first letter of your name, although it should be a capital. Look, here is a ‘p’. And here is a capital P, which you will need to know when we get to the point of printing out names.”

After a few more minutes of searching for letters, Abigail noted that Peter was looking for ‘p’s as well as ‘a’s. Abi decided to add another part to the lesson, and she and Delilah went through the group and showed them where to find the first letter of their own name. Luckily there were no ‘Q’ or ‘Z’ names, which would have been hard to find on the broadsheet.

After another quarter hour of students looking for these letters Abigail wrapped things up. It had been nearly two hours of class, and students were starting to lose attention.

“That is all class,” she announced. “I am pleased with how you all did. I have no doubt that in a few months you will all know the alphabet, and be able to read and write your own names. I know some of you have had trouble drawing the shapes. Don’t worry. You will get better, and in time your shapes will be clearer. I intend to have the slates stored in the kitchen. You can borrow one whenever you have some spare time to practice. The broadsheets are yours to keep. Please take care of them: we have spares, but not enough to be wasted. See you tomorrow for the letter B.”

With that the class ended, and some men took the benches back into the dining room. Abigail had Joe take the slates to the kitchen, warning him to only take four at a time, and not to run. He did run back between his trips, and then came back to the hall, standing near the wall waiting to see if anything else was needed. Abi sent him off, as she and Gloria headed up to her room. Joe ran out to the stable, so see if ‘his’ horse Jerry needed anything, including some brushing.

------ - -------- ---

The next morning Abigail awoke to a screech coming from the Duchess’s room. She hurried over, following Gabrielle into her parents’ room, and found a hung-over Duke huddled in the corner as the Duchess threw shoes at him.

“Do you know what this man did?” the Duchess screamed. “Do you know what your father did? He went out gambling last night and overspent his limit, thinking the Earl would cover his losses. Well, he won’t and now this cretan is going to wind up in the Fleet prison. I’ll never be able to show my face in this town again.”

“Oh my,” Abigail said. “Perhaps I could speak with William.”

Everyone went back to their rooms and dressed, and then went down to breakfast. While they were eating a breakfast that Delilah had come up with with eggs and refried squash from last night. There was also reheated beef. It was a special meal for the families, since the staff had gotten used to having buns with cheese and beef or bacon for breakfast. During the meal Abi asked William about the Duke, and the Earl explained why he could not bail the man out.

Just as the meal was served, a rapping at the front door announced the arrival of a Beadle to take the Duke to court. At first he insisted that they must leave immediately, but when Abigail suggested that the officer join them in breakfast time was no longer so important.

Once the meal was finished, William had Kensing come up and accompany the men to the trial, so that he could find out what will happen in court. He sent Joe along with them.

William spent the rest of the morning in his office, and Abigail, who had nothing planned and didn’t want to go into the kitchen and bother the new cook, rapped on the door. She went in at his call, and closed the door behind her.

“What’cha doing,” she asked, glad to use some 21st century slang as they were alone.

“I’m building up a report on the Siege of York earlier this year. I met some veterans from there last night, and they really gave me some detailed information: a lot of it stuff that isn’t in the history books.”

“For the satchel, I suppose?” Abi guessed.

“Well, I will send the rough draft through the satchel. It will keep the guys in the department busy for weeks. But the good copy is going with me to Parliament tomorrow. I plan to meet with John Pym, who is the unofficial treasurer of Parliament now. I plan to pay £500 in taxes, enough to get me an interview with the man. Then I will show him this report, in hopes of getting an official position that will allow me to go to future battles, and produce future reports.”

“That sounds great,” Abi said. “You know when and where battles are going to happen, and you have studied all the history books and records about them. You will be able to find a nice safe place to stand while the battle is on, and learn a ton more about what happened from a first person perspective.”

“Right,” William said. “But I do need permission from one side or the other, or I could be arrested as a spy. And I will need to get a really good horse or two, and official permission will prevent the army from seizing them. Parliament is the better choice, since they are going to win in the end, and will win most of the battles. I know the ones where the King wins, so I will just have to make sure I am in a safer location for those.”

“The Battle of Powick Bridge,” Abigail recited. “That is just over two weeks away.”

“Right. Good memory,” William said. “After that battle I will have a month until Edgehill. I think I will come back here between, even though they are quite close to each other in Warwickshire and Worchestershire. It will give me a chance to present my report, as well as checking in here. I hope you will be able to cope with the house.”

“No problem,” Abigail gestured at the sacks piled in the corner. “What are we going to do with all that?”

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave that with you, Abi,” William said. “We need to return it to its rightful owners, of course. Perhaps you can have the Duchess take a look at it. She may recognize some of the jewels from seeing their owners wearing them, for a start. Maybe bring in a jeweler or two to see if they can identify any of it.”

“I will get on it when you are at parliament tomorrow,” Abigail said. Just then there was a rapping at the door, and she opened it to find Kensing there. He stepped in and reported to the Earl.

“The Duke’s case has just been completed. He has been transported to Fleet prison, and will be there until the debt is paid. I sent Joe to run after the wagon he was transported in, and get any details about the prison we need to know.”

“The beadle took us to a Middle Temple court, where I was required to pay two pence for a seat. Another four pence bought me an explanation from a clerk as to what was happening. The Duke was put in a holding area with many common folk, and called slightly later.”

“When he identified himself as Duke of Spritzland, the judge told him that this was a court of Common Pleas, and here he was just John Spritzland. He was told that his lawyer could move the case to the Court of King’s Bench if he wanted to be tried as a noble. The judge was rather surprised to find that the Duke had no lawyer.”

“The case lasted less than a minute. The judge asked if the Duke disputed the debt, and was told no. He then asked if the Duke disputed the amount, and was told no. With that the judge sentenced him to Fleet prison until the debt is paid, and another £20 for court costs. My clerk told me he would be taken to the prison about an hour later. I waited till that time, then sent Joe after him.”

“Thank you,” William said, flipping a shilling to Kensing, indicating he should keep the change. “Were there any costs for Joe?”

Kensing smiled. “No. They wanted to charge him tuppence for a seat as well, but he just darted away from the clerks. Eventually there were three clerks and two beadles chasing after the boy. It provided quite the amusement for those waiting to hear cases, although the judges trying earlier cases seemed less than amused. Eventually he dashed past me and I told him to wait outside the courts. No doubt if he had been caught, he too would be sent to prison.”

“If I am not mistaken, we will have to send food or money for food to the prison for the Duke,” Abi noted. “The carriage will be free today. After dinner we will send a plate for him, along with two meat and cheese rolls. He can save one of those for his supper and the other for breakfast. I don’t want to be sending three carriages a day for him. I suspect that the Duchess and Gabrielle will want to go see him.”

“Do look after it,” William said. Kensing left to go get the carriage ready, and Abi left to see how dinner was coming, as well as letting the Duchess and her daughter know the result of the trial.

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Comments

Sounds like

Wendy Jean's picture

someone is about to learn a hard lesson. Wonder if it will stick?

A week

WillowD's picture

This has been a delightfully short week since the last chapter was published. While it seems like for ever in my mind, my calendar insists it was an unusually short week. Snerk.

I love the way William managed to get all of that information from those two groups of people at the pub. And how the duke's gambling problem was dealt with. I look forward to the next chapter.

Interesting Times Indeed

joannebarbarella's picture

Civil war, debtors' prison, social change....all happening at once. Still to come, the Commonwealth and Oliver Cromwell and The Restoration, not to mention the wars against the Dutch and the French or the Great Fire of London. The only problem is that I have difficulty believing that William and Abigail can remain there for fifty years. They will surely have to take a break sometime.

The Duke will presumably spend nearly a month in prison, assuming William pays off his debt at 10 pounds a day. That may cure his gambling addiction

£10 a week allowance

so the Duke will have to be in 20 weeks plus whatever costs need to be paid for court and prison. I looked at the Wikipedia article and there were costs associated with the prison as it was a profit making enterprise.

Duke in debtors prison

Now I expect the duke will have a miserable time. I was somewhat confused on how the debt will be payed off. My understanding was his allowance would pay for it but will they factor in the food and waste of servants time taking it to him into the cost? I guess I will just have to wait for the next installment for the answer. Also considering the duke is penniless are they going to fund his daughters dowry? I forget her age if it was revealed but I expect her to be relatively near marriageable age (for those times) which means that could be an interesting problem for our hero and heroine. As always I'll be waiting when the next great chapter appears.

Beadle?

Neither a beetle nor a beagle I guess. I can derive a rough meaning from the context in which its used, but one of your footnotes would not go amiss.

There is no such thing as a safe place during a battle, especially if you intend to be close enough to see what is happening.


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

Ex-soldiers' tales

Podracer's picture

Happen they were at York some time, but they were telling William of their misfortunes at Hull in the pub.
So far so good for this odd couple, but William had best keep a careful look out and a good horse under him if he be determined on this "war correspondent" role.

Teri Ann
"Reach for the sun."