Ram; being the tale of one Ramillies Anstruther, 1704-55 .. (40 page)

BOOK: Ram; being the tale of one Ramillies Anstruther, 1704-55 ..
10.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

After being held awhile in the bail dock, Ram was led into the court. On a high rostrum, under the Royal Arms and those of the City of London, sat the judges, presided over by His Worship the Lord Mayor. Many of the people jamming the galleries were known to Ram. The ground floor was packed with standees.

Below the bench the Crown barristers sat around a document-littered table, each toying with a nosegay—protection against the foul odor whence the fatal "gaol fever" was supposed to spring. At the table's far end Murray sat alone. To one side were the jurymen.

"Set Ramillies Anstruther to the bar."

He was led to a small raised dock.

"How sayest thou, Ramillies Anstruther, art thou guilty of the felony whereof thou standest indicted, or not guilty?"

"Not guilty!"

"Culprit, how wilt thou be tried?"

"By God and my country," Ram said, prompted from below by Kelton.

"God send thee a good deliverance."

He seemed to have small chance of deliverance. Though charged only with murder, the Crown implied that previously he had broken the law by serving the H.E.I.C.'s rivals, by suborning that Company's servants and by waging war against its allies. The prosecutors then charged that when accused of these acts by a late Company officer, he had lain in wait and killed him with malice aforethought. Tliey called witnesses who had seen the Anstruther-Rale quarrel; they regretted that General Wade's duties precluded his giving testimony in person, but he had made a sworn statement. This last did Ram no great harm, since the general had tried to be fair.

Murray rose to cross-examine. His elegance gave way to ruthless-ness as he questioned the witnesses. Under his prodding, all admitted Ram had not been the aggressor, that Ram had behaved only as a man of honor resenting an insult, that Rale had then backed down cravenly.

The chairmen testified how they had set Ram down near Red Lion Square; watch members told of arresting him, sword in hand, bending over the body. He himself was examined and cross-examined.

Murray's next witness was scarred from ear to nose. His name, curiously, was Heartease Deliver and he admitted a gentleman had hired him and some friends to punish a "scoundrel" who intended to force an entrance into a certain house in Red Lion Square. Under Murray's questioning, he admitted attacking the "scoundrel," who had given him a swordcut. His employer, having been killed by the "scoundrel," had not paid the witness or his friends for their services. These friends, he'd heard, had lately been sent as soldiers to India.

His admissions caused such a stir that the Crown lawyers hastily cross-examined him, but elicited only that for some months he'd been confined in Newgate on what, he whined, was a trumped-up charge.

Hilary testified how Ram was brought bleeding into the round-

house, and of what he had said. Dressed gaudily, Hilary enjoyed himself; for the only occasion he had ever expected to attend the Old Bailey was as a prisoner about to be condemned.

The day was half spent when a man and a woman forced their way through the crowd: he reluctantly, she urging him on.

"D'ye know 'em?" Kelton whispered. "Who are they?"

"The Morgans!" Ram felt lightheaded.

The attorney joined them, spoke urgently, then took them to Murray,

"Your Lordships," the future Earl of Mansfield and Chief Justice began ringingly, "here are two vital witnesses I desire to be sworn!"

Standing beside him Annie, tight-lipped, waved at Ram. Strangely for this time of year, she carried a small muff. Fred looked ghastly.

After a hurried colloquy, Murray put Annie on the stand.

Yes, she had known the accused both in India and London. She and her husband, also a Hindustan friend of the accused, had received many visits from him at their Red Lion Square house. She admitted having asked him to call on a certain evening just after her husband had supposedly left for Wales. She had wished to consult him about closing the house. But while awaiting his arrival, her husband had returned and with him was a Major Rale.

The lord mayor threatened to clear the court unless the hubbub ceased.

No, she hadn't known Major Rale in India, but her husband had once served as ensign under him at Fort William, though he'd left to become a junior trader with the Ostend Company, of which her father was chief factor.

What had happened when Major Rale arrived with her husband?

"After he and Mr. Morgan had drunk several glasses and he had departed, my husband ordered me to leave with him in a coach."

"Did ye so accompany him?"

"Not at once. I had nothing packed. But he ordered my maid to prepare what I'd need for a journey. He'd dismissed my other servants."

Murray glanced at the huddled King's counselors and smiled. "Madam, be so good as to describe what ensued."

"There was knocking on the front door and I recognized Captain Anstruther's voice shouting, 'Open!'" She told of hearing fighting,

and the accused calling for help. She ran toward the door, but her husband seized her, dragged her out through the back and into a waiting coach. "Mr. Morgan struck me and threatened me with death!"

The lord mayor again warned he would clear the court.

She told of how Fred had taken her to Dover and forced her to board a French-bound lugger with him. Since then they had traveled through France, Italy and the German states. Later he told her the captain had been killed in the fight. They had arrived back in London two days ago. By chance she had read in the Daily Post that the captain was to be tried today. She had suggested—she looked hard at Fred—that Mr. Morgan come with her to testify, and he had agreed.

The Crown's cross-examination was shrewd, but already she's proved Fred had both known and connived in Rale's plot to assassinate Ram.

Fred was sworn in. He kept glancing at Annie so nervously that Murray treated him scathingly. Ram watched in grateful bewilderment, became aware that the hand she kept in her muff pointed at Fred. Once, when he jibbed at admitting Rale had promised him immunity for having deserted the H.E.LC. in exchange for his help, he seemed about to scream a denial, but a slight click changed his mind and he answered affirmatively.

Ram had to hold back mad laughter. Lud, it was rich—Annie had brought Fred here at pistol point!

The Crown barristers now knew that they had no case. True, they cross-examined Fred, but he was so bemused he merely blurted further damaging facts.

The summing up, and the jury retired. Ram was taken back to the bail dock, where Jack Ketch was waiting.

He was returned to hear the jury's decision—Not Guilty! In their belief, he had killed Rale, but while being attacked by him and others, which was every Englishman's right to do when his life was in peril.

The lord mayor gave his judgment: The accused was innocent of the charge, yet he had slain one of His Majesty's subjects. A penalty must be exacted. The prisoner at the bar, therefore, must be branded . . .

Ram could hear no more, for the cheering was deafening. Branded!

He didn't think they did such things these days. If he'd been proved innocent, why must he be disfigured?

But Kelton was shouting and grabbing his hand. Even Murray had left the barristers' table to congratulate him. Annie tried to reach him, but the press was too great.

"Clear the court!" the usher pleaded.

"Come on. Captain, best git it done." Ketch stood beside him. "We'll do it right and proper. Then we'll knock off the fetters."

God! Ram thought, to be scarred with an "M!"

Back in Newgate, the turnkeys and a mob of prisoners looking on, he waited in the Stone Hold for Ketch to do his duty. He was terribly aware that in yonder caldron the heads and limbs of executed traitors were boiled in tar before being hung upon the city's gates.

Ketch took down a small iron. "Right thumb out, if you please."

Solemnly Ketch pressed the end of the iron upon the ball of his thumb. "There ye are, sir—an' I hope ye won't forget I don't receive your fine clothes as me perquisites."

"All done?" Ram stared at him.

"Didn't ye hear what his lordship said? 'Branded on the thumb with an iron.' Didn't say hot or cold, so cold it is!"

Ram laughed so hysterically that the Partners had difficulty holding him still while they knocked off his fetters.

CHAPTER 13

DALESVIEW AND LONDON,

1731

Ram walked into his bedchamber briskly and found Young Joe admiring himself before the long cheval mirror. The boy wore a suit Ram had recently discarded, a powdered wig and a gold-laced tricorn

perched jauntily on one side. He was holding down a sword's hilt, so that its scabbard kept his coat's skirt out behind modishly.

"I thought you'd turned that suit into ready money," Ram grinned.

"Oh, God!" The boy hastily unbuckled and dropped the sword —Ram's second best—whipped off the hat and bowed confusedly.

"You make a fine figure," Ram said dr\'ly. "But are we packed? We sup tonight at St. Albans."

"Oh, yes. Captain!" Joe pointed to the baggage. "Father and Peg-Leg'll help me stow it." He shot out.

Ram slipped leisurely out of his own brocaded coat, selected one more conservative, made sure his purse was filled and his watch in his fob, examined the priming of his pistols.

Soon he was being driven along the Great North Road. He hoped Annie wouldn't be late. She'd been both the town's heroine and its target, so it was best they go north till the scandal died. Also, though she'd bought off Fred, and he was supposed to stay in Wales, he might still be man enough to resent being made a known cuckold.

He glanced out at the soft Herfordshire countryside. God, Dales-view would be glorious now it was June. But we must be war)'; Aunt Joan's no fool, neither is Sue.

The horses were fresh and brought him to the St. Albans inn by dusk. Yes, a lady had arrived in a chaise an hour since; yes, she'd ordered a room for her brother.

Annie greeted him delightedly. All was well and she'd given out she would visit Scotland and not return until fall. He smiled, if not with love, at least with deep fondness. London life had improved her; she could hold her own with the grandest ladies and she'd developed a pretty wit, though a trifle sharp.

When later he stole into his "sister's" room, conveniently close to his own, she was wildly ardent. "Oh, Ram, but for Fred, this could be our wedding night!"

Dalesview's menfolk welcomed its master's guest with fervor. None had ever before seen anyone like her, and John's eldest piped, "Is the Yaller Lady an Indoo princess an' is she Uncle Ram's?" As for the women: Joan was cordial but war}', John's wife a blur of shyness and Sue almost discourteous. Plague take her, Ram frowned, what's it

to her if I bring a score of wenches? There's naught to show we're anything but what we say.

Will was avid about the lead. "I've cut props by thousands! 'Tis there, nevew, not two miles from here, waitin' ti be dug oop."

So Ram rode up to the source of Eller Brook and saw where Will had taken title to a proposed mine, then over Scargill High Moor to Seavy Sike, to examine others. "We'll be as rich as kings!" Will vowed. " 'Tis why John's back, so's he can help wi' lead and farm. And Rob sent away ti York for learned books on mining."

"I've three stout Durham miners eating their heads off till we're ready," Rob boasted. He turned to Annie, who sat a Dalesview stallion superbly. "Madam, we've no gold or diamonds here like there is in India, but here's lead enough to buy both." He was most eager to convince her he was no clod like John, but a 'versity man, who but for ill luck—and a tendency toward wenching—might now be an ordained priest of the Established Church.

"La, sir, then dig me some of this precious metal and I'll make you my knight," she smiled gaily.

"Servant, ma'am." He unstrapped a pick and fell to work on the rock face. "There!" Panting, he picked up a chunk. On one side were crystals through which his pick had cut a shining furrow. He chipped off bits of limestone. "With your permission, cousin," he said, offering her the prize.

"The first lump," Ram grinned. "Uncle Will, what's the mine's name to be?"

"Annie's Luck!" Rob interposed quickly, and Ram agreed.

But her luck seemed in doubt when, that night. Ram was awakened by a stifled scream and sounds of a struggle coming from her room. Leaping from bed, he caught up his sword and ran to her aid.

A nightlight showed her struggling with a man. Shortening his sword, he was about to kill the intruder when she, seeing him, cried, "No— Don't!"

Her attacker turned—Rob!

"You whoreson!" Ram spat. "Would ye ravish our guest under our very roof? Begod, I'll treat you so ye'll never touch woman again!"

A plea bubbled in Rob's throat.

" 'Twas a mistake!" Annie begged. "I—he must have taken my kindness for something else."

"He'll not make that mistake again." Ram smashed his hilt down on his cousin's head.

"Oh, Lud, the scandal!" Annie whimpered.

"Get up!" Ram ordered and, groaning, his scalp cut, Rob gained his feet. "Now, down on your knees and crave Mrs. Morgan's pardon."

Blubbering, Rob obeyed and slunk out. Annie's eyes shone strangely as she regained her bed. Her lips were parted and her breasts rose and fell.

She had welcomed his attack! Ram thought unbelievingly.

"Lud, spare my blushes, do!" she laughed shrilly. "At least my would-be ravisher was clothed—but you!"

Though she had often seen him nude, he felt embarrassed, and when she opened the covers invitingly, he swore, "Damme, I'll not follow another's stirring!" and retreated hastily.

If anyone else had heard the nocturnal fracas none spoke of it, and next day Annie daringly asked Rob how he had cut his head. Unblushingly he said he'd gone to a byre during the night to tend a sick cow and hurt himself by falling over a scythe. Oxford had at least taught him a parson's glibness, if not his integrity.

Restraint grew between Annie and Ram, and he was glad when she said she must continue on to Scotland. So he lent her the coach, Williams and Young Joe, and even rode beside it as far as Durham. He left her with the understanding that when she'd had her fill of touring she'd rejoin him and they'd return to London together.

BOOK: Ram; being the tale of one Ramillies Anstruther, 1704-55 ..
10.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Wrong Number by Rachelle Christensen
Bon Appetit Desserts by Barbara Fairchild
The Agent's Surrender by Kimberly van Meter
The Hunters by Chris Kuzneski
Private Dicks by Katie Allen
Amethyst Rapture by Suarez, Fey
The Law of Attraction by N. M. Silber