‘What? You have found your man yet hunt down the one who turns him in?’ I said indignantly.
‘Nay, Mrs Cellier. That is not why we are here,’ said Warcup, the magistrate notorious for his immorality, and for his political leaning toward the Whigs.
The fact he had grown fat on possessions zealously confiscated from those accused of the Roman Catholic faith, heirlooms that never found the way to the king’s vaults, also lay heavily against trust in him. Those treasured religious possessions, such as relics, statues and prayer beads, he did not take into his own pocket were burned in street bonfires with so much passion he took the reputation of one of the most hated magistrates of our time.
‘We are here to arrest…’
‘What!’ said Willoughby. ‘Has he cried ‘whore’ first!’
‘Who has? Who do you talk about?’ I looked at Willoughby through narrowed eyes, resenting his calling me a whore, for there was none other here he could have referred to. ‘What say you?’
‘Nay, Willoughby. We are here for you,’ said Warcup, taking the hilt of his sword, when it looked as if Willoughby might put up a fight. His two men also placed their hands at the ready. ‘You are to come before the Privy Council in the morning.’
‘What is this? What is your reason?’ Now it was Willoughby’s turn to be indignant. He let go of his sword hilt now he saw they weren’t here to attack him, and stood with his legs apart, backs of fists on waist and his head held proud. ‘I have done the king a favour this day! This is how I am to be repaid?’
‘The Council wishes to speak with you concerning the papers found at the house of Mr Roderick Mansell,’ said Warcup.
‘Ah, well, that is a grave matter. Tell them I will indeed come in the morning.’
‘That is not acceptable,’ said Warcup with a sneer. ‘The Council are not so certain you will find your way there.’
‘I know where it is,’ said Willoughby, still haughty.
‘‘Tis not for that reason your presence is doubted. It is believed you have had more than a casual interest in this affair, and might choose to find another place to be on the morrow.’
‘Nonsense!’ said Willoughby. ‘I have only done what any man loyal to the king would do. In fact, I am involved in this business under the instruction of the king himself!’
‘That is as may be, but my orders are to bring you to the Council in the morning. That being so, I must keep you in sight until then. It is said you are as a coney, and have the habit of disappearing into a dark hole when your presence is most desired!’
‘I will see he comes in front of the Council in the morning,’ I said.
‘Would that that is enough, Mrs Cellier. What gives you leave to think we might place our trust in one who places a roof over this man’s head and food in his mouth?’
‘He has not lived under my roof for some past months.’ I frowned. These men seemed to know all too much of our business. ‘What if I were to offer sureties he will appear at the Privy Council on the morrow?’
Though I did not care overly much if Willoughby spent another night in prison, I would value the chance to further talk with him and discover what this was about.
‘We will accept sureties of your husband in this matter, but not from his wife.’
So, this Monday last, Pierre and Henry went with them to give sureties that Willoughby would come to the Council on following morning. When he returned, Pierre could barely conceal his anger at Willoughby. When they found out what he had done, he and Henry spoke severely to the captain at some great length. Of course, he told them about my part in it, and then, when we were in private chambres, Pierre dressed me down for encouraging the captain, and for the danger I placed myself and our family in.
‘Lizzie, Lizzie. I understand. You know I do. But do not bring attention to our family in this way! ‘Tis not safe at any time, but in these times of trouble we do not wish to be singled out above others. Is it not enough you write to the king and to the parliament about the state of the prisons? And that you visit and feed those accused of treason in the prisons and involve yourself in discovering plots? Each time you do these things, you place us in full view to be judged when we should wish to be invisible. ‘Tis not only your own self that you risk here, but our children too. I beg of you, stay away from it.’
I knew he spoke good sense.
Later, Willoughby had little to tell me above what he had already said, but I kept my suspicions he did not tell me everything. He had the look of one that knew which cock would win the fight, perhaps that he had hobbled the other, but would not tell which one. When I asked how they found the papers, he was not shy to admit his part in it.
‘What? What did you do there?’ I asked, worrying what suspicion that would put upon him.
‘Not only was I there, but I found the papers!’ he said.
He was brim full of satisfaction, but still I could not help but wonder that he was particularly shifty and it made me ill at ease. I set myself the task to discover what deed he cloaked so imperfectly.
And now my daughter’s husband was of the opinion that Willoughby might be in more trouble than we know of. What should I do about this rapscallion? Where once his help had appeared so fortunate to our cause, now at every turn did he undo the work we first had done.
I put my mind to the problem of Willoughby while I worked in the kitchen, bagging raspberry leaves for Mrs Browntree. Her first three babies had come some weeks late causing her considerable discomfort, and raspberry leaf tea might assist the birthing along. I did little more than place the leaves into the sack before the still broken bell over the door jangled discordantly. I resolved to find a person to fix the bell casing when I went out later today
I soon heard Susan’s footsteps come past the kitchen towards the door, so I continued to tie the bag of raspberry leaves with some twine. My visitor needed no introduction nor, it seemed did she wish to stand on ceremony. The high voice of Lady Elizabeth Powys found its way to the kitchen the moment the door was opened.
‘I wish to speak with Mrs Cellier. Is she at home?’
‘Welcome, My Lady.’ I heard Susan say in the way I had taught her. ‘Please be so kind as to wait while I enquire.’
I wiped my hands on a clean cloth, took off my apron and smoothed my dress down ready move to a more appropriate room to receive my visitor, and was glad I took that moment since I was not given further opportunity to move any place to greet her properly.
‘Mrs Cellier, there you are!’ Lady Powys stepped so close in Susan’s footsteps she almost trod on her heels as they entered the kitchen. She showed every sign of disturbance and did not think it out of order to summarily dismiss my maid with a brusque, ‘Susan, please leave us now.’
Susan looked to me and I nodded once.
‘Lady Powys,’ I bobbed in a curtsy. ‘What troubles you?’
‘Your man, Captain Willoughby, troubles me.’
He troubles every body, I thought. ‘My Lady?’
‘I have recently come from Lord Peterborough with disturbing news!’
‘What is it, M’Lady? Has something happened upon him?’
‘I must warn you, it is not what has been done to him, but what he has done to others.’
A familiar feeling of foreboding came over me. I had seen all manner of faces of the Captain I did not take kindly to, and suspected Lady Powys was about to reveal more of his ungentlemanly nature. He might be the most foolish blunder I had yet made, or would ever make.
‘Pray, do not keep it to your self, Elizabeth,’ I said with impatience, dropping the formalities, as sometimes we were wont to do. She obliged by speaking frankly.
‘After you and he were with the king, you were taken by one Colonel Hallshall to the secretary, Mr Coventry?’
‘Aye,’ I nodded. ‘That we were.’
‘It has come to pass that our y
oung man is known to the Colonel as a scoundrel of the very greatest notoriety. The Colonel, you see, is acquainted with Captain Richardson of Newgate, and he has informed him of the rogue’s convictions. He is a coiner, a forger, a thief. What think you of that! It is said that any wrong a man can do, this villain has done. He has stood in the pillory for coining, had his hands burned for thieving, his ears nailed for counterfeiting and was whipped out of divers towns for ill-doings. Word is out in high circles your young man not only should not be trusted, but should be hanged on the hill.’
I could not tell her I knew some of this news already, for I should have told her before ever I let him near her!
‘My suspicions are confirmed. I had not long thrown him from our house for his ungodly conduct before I was forced to give further bail for his conduct,’ I said.
‘My dear woman, do not mistake my pause for my being at the end of it! I am the bearer of yet worse news. Your husband is Willoughby’s master. For this, those who speak harshly of the Captain tar you both with the same brush. Some that know you defend your honour, but I must warn you that your names are joined together with this villain. It does not help that you have written to parliament many times about the maltreating of prisoners, revealing him as a source. This has distinguished you singularly as his voice.’
‘What should I have done? Our government would have it we are high above the violence of countries such as Spain and France, claiming we are as angels against their cruelty, yet every day men, and women, are ill-used in prisons in the very streets where we live. If I did not say so, then who would! I will continue to write as long as such abuse goes on.’
‘You are a good and charitable woman, Lizzie,’ she said, ‘but I fear you are the one ill-used. I believe myself maltreated also. We must be careful. It would be wise to avoid any further use of this rogue. Any at all. He will destroy our cause and every thing we have worked for.’
‘He came to me two days since for guidance,’ I told her.
‘Did he indeed.’
I told her about his recent visit. ‘He said he had proof of the Presbyterian plot against the Roman Catholics, that he had seen papers in the rooms of a man called Mr Roderick Mansell. He also said that neither the king nor Judge North would give him a search warrant. The reasons for that are clearly those you have told me, that he has been proved untrustworthy by his past deeds.’
‘If it is so, that there is proof that will serve to free my husband perhaps, then, I must make use of it.’ Despite her so recent assertion that we should no longer use the captain, the wind blew Lady Powys the other way when her husband’s life was at stake. She had lived wretchedly in fear for her husband’s life for more than a year. Honour comes easy when the life of the man you love is in not in danger. I was in that fortunate position, but not so Lady Powys.
‘He came here begging my thoughts on this matter,’ I said.
‘And pray what did you tell him?’
‘I told him, if they would not give him a search warrant to discover the plot, perhaps the customs house might find reason to search the rooms and happen upon the papers. It is only using a different instrument to the same ends. He was delighted with such an idea and declared he would not have thought of that himself.’
‘And what has happened since then to put every one of London in such a flutter?’
‘I understand Mansell’s papers were found as Willoughby said,’ I started, but then I stopped. I did not know why, if Willoughby was proved right, the Privy Council and every other person made such quarry of him. ‘Willoughby has not told me all of what came to pass at Axe Yard on Monday, but I feel sure he has done some thing he should not have else they would not have such claims on him.’
‘We ought not trust him at all. He is a double-edged sword. With one thrust he cuts our enemy, with the next he carves us asunder. He is a dangerous man that does not care which side he harms as long as he has his piece.’
I could hardly deny it. Willoughby had shown he was all for gain. If he had once repented his deeds, he had then repeated them, and that is no repentance at all.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘I shall deny him further entry to this house. He has gone too far!’
As if he had waited in hearing for these very words, the door from the kitchen garden opened, and there he stood, cocky as any rooster in a coup full of hens, strutting in with a tall tail feather in his wide-brimmed cap. He took off his cap and swept it wide as he bowed low.
‘My Lady Powys and the good Mrs Cellier! How bountiful to discover you here together!’
‘What? Are you here with the magistrate again so soon!’ I said haughtily, hardly hiding my anger at his recent conduct.
‘Compose your self, madam. My news is practical. I will have myself back in your good favour with the papers I bring.’
‘Are they Mansell’s?’ I asked.
‘No madam. I will not reveal to you their exact nature, else the details of it might slip out in an unguarded moment.’
‘You cause tongues to waggle all over town yet you think it is I with the loose tongue! You have a wit about you, Captain! In God’s name, what have you done the town is in such a bustle about you?’
‘I have done nothing to alarm you, madam, but cannot tell you at this time. Only know I have forwarded our cause this day.’
‘Do you play games, Captain Willoughby?’ Lady Powys seemed to be both angry and curious. ‘Lives are close to the gallows. Tell us what you have done!’
‘My lady, it is better you do not know. Your innocence might defend you, and your ignorance of the matter will be your best plea.’
Lady Powys took a deep breath. Somehow we now stood side by side facing the rascal, united in extracting his story but, for once, he stood firm and kept his mouth closed.
‘Enough, ladies! I must go to my rooms and prepare myself for further examination. I will not tell you what might bring you down.’
‘If we are asked, how will we know what we should not speak of if we do not know what it is we should not know of!’ I said.
‘My humble apology to you ladies. I did not come to have you so disagreeable to me or I to you.’ He reached a hand beneath his cloak, unbuttoned the silver buttons on his red tunic, one that he had purchased with the gold from the king and that gave him the false appearance of a Lord, or gentleman of means at least, and withdrew a small book of threaded papers tied with red ribbon, similar to that he had shown to the king before. ‘Take these and hide them. Hide them well, for they hold proof of the direst treason you did never imagine!’
I took the papers he held out to me. Lady Powys questioned, ‘What proof do they hold? Can they help my husband?’
‘I can tell you no more, My Lady. Know that what these papers contain is in your favour and can do you no harm, only good.’
‘Then why will you not tell us the details inside?’
‘My lady, I do not wish you to be part of this. Your purity will bring us through these times.’ With that, he bowed deeply once more and left the way he came into the garden.
‘Well, upon my soul! What do you make of that!’ Lady Powys exclaimed to the closed door.
‘I am tempted to open these papers and look. But what if he is right, and knowing their content condemns us.’ I went to the bell chord and pulled twice. When the maid appeared, it was not Susan, but Anne Blake, that had been in my service many years, and had proved her loyalty over and over. I instructed her, ‘Anne, take this book and hide it where I know not.’
Without question or raised brows, Anne took the bundle, ‘Yes Ma’am’.
‘And do not read it!’ I added as we left the kitchen, though I knew to say so was needless.
I myself saw Lady Powys to the door, where she imparted another piece of news. ‘The Captain is being followed at the direction of the king. The king believes he is up to no good. Pray, be vigilant.’
; ‘From whence come you by this snippet?’
‘Lord Peterborough has told me it,’ she said.
With that, Lady Powys said ‘Fare thee well’, and I returned to the kitchen to make lotions for my mothers and their infants just as Anne passed me leaving it. Soon the room was filled with scents of simmering herbs and potions.
Things were not going as I had envisaged them going, and I was not at all satisfied about my own part of it. If I had not fallen for Willoughby’s charms, we would likely not be in this mess now. I must have no more to do with him, I decided as I bottled my medicines. I would have nothing more to do with him, that is, once he had given me proof of the wicked designs he had told me of.
18
29th day of October, 1679
‘Mistress Cellier! Mistress Cellier! Make haste, they come for you!’ A large muscular frame filled the doorway.
Little Maggie and Peter abandoned their task of shelling peas opposite me at the table and looked up with open mouths.
‘Heavens, Dowdal! What wild beast drives you so hard you forget your manners!’ I dropped the chopping knife onto the wooden kitchen table, scored by the making of many family meals and, though scrubbed daily with a brush, stained by many hot pans and cooked meal spills.
‘That turncoat, Willoughby, has sent them here. They will lock you up and hang you as soon as walk through that door.’
‘What do you mean by this, Dowdal?’ I scolded. ‘The Captain shared our roof and considered himself a friend to us. He may be indiscreet, he may act the fool and he may even play false, but he would not sell those that saved him to the Devil! Does it not shame you making such accusations?’ I did not wish to alarm the children, but they were already shifting from their chairs.
‘He is no friend of this house, Mrs Cellier. Just as Oates lay as a snake in the Jesuit nest, Willoughby has turned viper in yours, naming every dwelling and tavern he had dealings in, every Popish man and woman he visited with note or letter or message. I tell you, Madam, the serpent that dwelt amongst us has sent the authorities here and you must go!’
The Popish Midwife Page 20