Their little party surged forward. The parson urged his horse into a stumbling trot. The farmer and his wife caused their cart to sway and rattle loudly, as their elderly horse tried to keep up. Flapping the reins and banging his heels into his horse, Adam persuaded Betty into a clumsy canter. Thus he rushed ahead towards the three men, still struggling, though now alerted to the rescue party. As he rode, he managed to jerk open one of his saddlebags and pull out a small pistol. He was often upon the roads and it did not do in these turbulent times to travel without some kind of protection. He always put two loaded pistols into his saddlebag, though this was the first time he had had cause to put either to use.
For a dreadful moment, he thought the ruffians might put up a fight. Then, whether intimidated by superior numbers or by the sight of a madman bearing down upon them, yelling and waving a pistol, they took to their heels.
Foolishly, Adam fired at the fleeing men, though he had little hope of hitting anything. In truth, what he did was more to relieve his own feelings than to hasten them on their way. Then, the next moment, all his attention was on bringing his horse to a stand where the victim now lay fallen in the road. Though the mare had been loathe to hasten, once into her stride she was reluctant to come to a stop.
So it was that Adam came up to the wounded man and rather fell as much as dismounted beside him. ‘Peace, sir, peace. You are safe now. Are you much hurt? I am a doctor and may be able to relieve your pain a little.’
At first, the man on the ground was unable to speak, for the one ruffian had so gripped his throat that he had come near to choking the life from him. Only when surrounded by Adam, Reverend Domble and both the Ushants was he able to say anything. ‘Dear friends, Providence sent you, like Good Samaritans, to save me when I had fallen amongst thieves. I gave them the few shillings that I had, and gave them freely, for I could see their need was great, but they were not satisfied. Believing I must be a gentleman, they cried out that I must have more. One seized me by the throat to choke the truth from me. The other rifled through my pockets in the hope of riches.’
‘And found none,’ Adam said.
‘Not at all,’ the other said. ‘They found the greatest riches of all, though they perhaps did not think so. There, on the ground.’ He pointed to a small book. Mr. Domble picked it up at once and looked at the title page.
‘The New Testament,’ he said. ‘You are right enough. Are you a man of the cloth then, as I am?’
‘Nay, friend. I am a merchant and now a ship-owner. Yet the Good Book has been my constant companion and helper these many years, ever since I joined the Society of Friends.’
‘A Quaker,’ Mr. Domble said, though he smiled when he said it. ‘A dissenter. Yet, I believe, a good and honest man for all that. I am George Domble, Rector of Aylmerton. My companions are Dr. Adam Bascom, whom you have already met in the guise of a charging dragoon. And Farmer Ushant and his wife.’
‘Joseph Jempson, friends. A merchant of Norwich, though shortly to take up residence in Aylsham.’
‘Then we will be neighbours,’ Adam said, ‘for that is where I have my practice. Was that your destination when you were set upon?’
‘It was,’ Jempson said. ‘At least for the night. I have not yet moved my household from the city. I went today to Blakeney to render payment to a fellow merchant living there. I have just bought from him shares in a fine ship plying between Yarmouth and the Baltic ports. Had those sad men come upon me on my outward journey, they would have found themselves in possession of notes amounting to what would have seemed to them a fortune indeed.’
‘To venture abroad, alone and in possession of a great deal of money, was not wisdom,’ Adam said. What could this man have been thinking to do such a thing?
‘I suspect that thou, like most of thy medical colleagues, are a sceptic,’ Jempson said. ‘I do not blame thee for scolding me so, for by the standards of this world it was indeed a most foolhardy action. However, I was not alone, having with me for company a young couple newly married and received with joy amongst our congregation. Few enough join our Society these days, unless they are born to it; fewer still who have chosen to do so with such careful thought. The young woman was indeed born into a Quaker family, as thou wouldst have it. Her husband was not. Indeed, Parson, he was until recently a member of thine own church.’
‘Ah,’ Mr. Domble said. ‘I suppose I ought to be censorious of his action, but I cannot bring myself to that state. Many leave religion behind out of nothing but idleness and apathy, for our churches do little to prevent it. Some, like those in France at the moment, vent their anger upon their priests, who have put wealth and ambition before Christian principles. When a man decides to follow what he believes to be his path to the Lord, who am I to say he is wrong?’
‘Thy words do thee credit, friend,’ Mr. Jempson said. ‘I would that the young man’s father had been of your mind. Instead, he railed against his son in a most unseemly manner for any Christian.’
‘Gentlemen,’ Adam said softly. ‘You should postpone such a conversation to another time. At present, Mr. Jempson is in sore need of rest and medical attention.’
Neither Adam nor the other two had noticed Mr. Ushant slip quietly away. Now, however, he stood by in silence, holding the reins of what must be Mr. Jempson’s mount. ‘I have your horse, sir. She’d not gone far and those wicked men were too frighted by our dashing hero to think to steal her or what she carries.’
‘Dashing hero is right,’ Jempson said. ‘Thou hast saved my life, I believe, Dr. Bascom and I thank thee most heartily. Now, let me delay thee all no further.’
‘Nonsense,’ Adam said, more roughly indeed than he had intended, being much embarrassed by the praise laid on him. ‘Come, my friends. Let us set Mr. Jempson to lie in the bed of your cart, if that is convenient to you, Mr. Ushant.’
‘By no means, doctor,’ Jempson interrupted. ‘I am sure I can ride. But let me raise myself from this hard ground…’
When he did so, his groans showed that he was hurt more that he had admitted.
‘Be led by the doctor,’ Parson Domble said. ‘It is still a good way to Aylsham. He will lead your horse and Mr. and Mrs. Ushant will find space for you beside them, if you will not consent to lie. I must leave you by and by to turn northwards towards my home, but Mr. Ushant’s farm is on your route a little further on.’
‘I will take Mr. Jempson to my house,’ Adam said. ‘I have not yet examined him for further hurts and it is not seemly to do so by the roadside, where any might pass. Now, sir,’ he added, turning to Jempson, ‘be but patient to ride in the cart until the farm is reached. Then you may try your hand at riding again, for it will be scarce two miles to my house and I will be there to support you.’
After a little more protesting – for he could see the good sense of what was being suggested – Mr. Jempson agreed and they set out again. Two or three miles further on, Parson Domble left them, first having secured promises the others would call upon him whenever they might again be in the area. Another two miles and Mr. Jempson left his seat on the bench of the cart. He had been wedged somewhat tightly between the burly farmer and his well-padded wife. Now he climbed painfully onto his own horse.
Once again, hearty farewells were said and Adam and Jempson moved slowly on. Adam still led Jempson’s horse so that he could hold fast to the creature’s mane to steady himself.
Thus it was that they reached Adam’s house. William the groom took both horses, though not without a muttered reproach. Betty had been brought home flecked with foam after the excitement of the chase. Mrs. Brigstone, Adam's housekeeper, had been looking from a window an hour and more, anticipating her master’s return. Hannah, the parlourmaid, was therefore sent at once to bring food and drink, while Mrs. Brigstone bustled around Mr. Jempson. She found him a comfortable chair and then hurried to the kitchen for water to bathe his wounds and wash the dust from his face and hands.
Since they were now alone, Adam examined his patient. As h
e expected, he found him badly bruised, but not seriously hurt. He gave him five drops of laudanum from his medicine chest to ease the pain. Then he sent him to his bed with a cup of warmed wine in which he had dissolved a little sugar with tincture of valerian and hops. The man needed sleep more than food. In contrast, Adam's own stomach was growling in the most insistent way.
When, half an hour later, Mrs. Brigstone brought him a most welcome supper, Adam was content. Nor could he restrain himself from describing how he and Betty had put the footpads to flight.
If he expected praise, he found himself disappointed. Mrs. Brigstone knew her master too well to indulge him in this self-congratulation. When he ended his tale, she looked at him a moment, then gave her verdict. ‘I am not surprised they ran off. They must have thought a madman was on the loose with a pistol. What sane person would risk staying?’
Then she called out to Hannah to help her clear away the dishes and douse the candles. At the doorway, she paused for a moment. ‘It is time for your bed, master. Even heroes need their rest. You have done a brave deed. I only hope the other gentleman is as grateful as he should be for it.’
And she was gone.
9
Messages from Mrs. Ross
Wednesday, 9 May 1792, Aylsham, Norfolk
Adam arose early the next morning, expecting to find Mr. Jempson still abed and possibly in need of his help to leave his bed. He was therefore surprised, on entering the small parlour, to see his guest already at the table, where Hannah had laid a plentiful breakfast.
The merchant rose as he entered, but slowly and with several sharp intakes of breath. He had the look of one who suffered pain and sought, if he could, to cope stoically with the extent of his hurt.
‘I thought you would stay in bed, sir,’ Adam said. ‘You were sore hurt and it would be much to your benefit to rest as much as you can. I may, perhaps, be able to ease your pain somewhat, but healing is more a matter of time and patience than any skill I may have.’
‘I do not deny that my old body aches a great deal, friend,’ Mr. Jempson said. ‘Nor that it besought me to let it lie in idleness longer. Yet I have trespassed enough on thy great kindness and should be about my business with the small community of Friends in this town. I will manage well enough. I know of one who will stable my horse until I come again. I am also sure I will find some who will provide a carriage to get me back in safety to Norwich. Our religion is not kept for Sundays. When we see a brother or sister in need, our duty stands plain before us. Whatever help we can give we give freely, as our testimonies exhort us.’
‘I am ashamed to say that I have little knowledge of your religion, Mr. Jempson. Only what is commonly spread abroad: that all live and speak plainly and observe no ranks or hierarchies,’ Adam said. ‘In our imperfect world, many must find that an affront.’
‘Indeed so. In the past, our little movement has been persecuted most cruelly. Thus we have perforce learned well to avoid controversy and keep ourselves to ourselves for the most part. There are even some who would prevent marriage outside the Society, believing it essential to maintain the vision of our founders. I am not such a one, but I do not deny their honesty in their fears.’
Adam nodded. In his own profession, there were those who so feared change that they would halt all progress and discovery. Happily, it was not possible. ‘You said you are a merchant, I believe?’
‘I am. We, like all those who stand apart from the Church of England, find the universities closed and the professions barred to us,’ Jempson replied. ‘We provide our own schools, so that our children may learn to read and reckon. We offer apprenticeships, so that useful knowledge can be passed on. Sometimes our members attend the Dissenting Academies in search of the higher levels of learning. Mostly, we focus our energies where the law allows us to earn our bread. I trade in grain, malt and, now, timber. Others excel in all the harmless trades. Some are iron-masters or brewers. Others engage in manufacturing and the production of food and medicines. There are even those who now devote most of their wealth to banking.
‘We believe in the truth and in integrity in all aspects of life,’ he went on. ‘What we promise, we undertake, needing no oaths to bind us. The price we ask is the one the customer must give, since haggling is possible only if the first price men state is not the true one. As I told thee, I have just purchased a half share in a fine ship. The man from whom I bought it is one of our community. He asked a fair price, which, since it was one I could afford, I paid without artifice or attempts to drive him lower. Is that not the right way to do business, friend? For we were both happy with the outcome and will remain as good friends in the future as ever we were in the past.’
‘An admirable way,’ Adam agreed. ‘So, in that same spirit of plain speaking, let me tell you this. You must spare yourself as much as you can in your journey to your home. Nor must you by any means over-exert yourself for some weeks to come. I mean what I say, sir. You are no longer a young man. Even the old may heal, though somewhat more slowly than those still blessed with the resilience of youth. I will send you on your way with enough medicine for your journey. Also some receipts you must take to a reputable apothecary or chemist to have prepared for you.’
‘For this, as for all else thou hast done for me, thou hast my deepest thanks,’ Jempson said. ‘I will not insult the hospitality of thy house by offering to pay for my bed and board. Yet I charge thee to tell me honestly the extent of your fee and the cost of the medicines thou hast given me.’
‘There is no fee,’ Adam said. ‘I did not offer my help in any mercenary spirit, nor were you in any position to choose whether or not to accept. As for the medicines, five shillings will cover the cost in full.’
‘Thou art a fine physician, friend, and, what is still more valuable, a good man. If I cannot offer thee of my goods, thou shalt have most freely of my esteem and friendship. Now I must depart indeed, for thou hast thine own business to look to, I am sure, as I have mine.’
Adam called to Hannah to tell William get Mr. Jempson’s horse ready, while he prepared the medicines he promised and wrote out the receipts. It did not take long. When William stood at the door, Adam told him to go with Mr. Jempson, both to help him along his way and to lead his horse to its temporary home. Adam and Jempson now shook hands warmly and Mrs. Brigstone was called to add her own farewells and good wishes for a speedy recovery.
Mr. Jempson smiled down at her and praised both her housekeeping and her kindness to a stranger, which made her blush somewhat. ‘My dear friends. Farewell again. When I am come to live in this town, I hope you will make as free of my poor dwelling as you have made me of yours.’
And with that, he took William’s arm to support himself and departed.
* * *
If Adam had thought that he might be free in the following days to mull over what he had learned about the archdeacon’s death, he was disappointed. The number of patients swelled. Mr. Jempson had been prompt in sending some of his friends in the local Quaker community Adam’s way. He was thus busier than he had been since coming to Aylsham. The days had slipped past without leisure to solve any but medical puzzles. Then one morning he received two letters. They rekindled the whole affair of the archdeacon’s death.
What was most baffling was that they concerned the same person: Mrs. Ross, the archdeacon’s widow.
The first came from Mr. Josiah Playley, the Norwich lawyer. It was his clerk who had stopped Adam after the inquest with a request that he should wait on Mrs. Ross as soon as it should be convenient. Shorn of the flowery legal language, this letter's message was simple. Mrs. Ross had decided to remain with her relatives near Cambridge for the foreseeable future. Thus she did not need to trouble him to seek her out. She apologised for bothering him. Mr. Playley offered no further explanation.
The second, which arrived by the same post, was from Mrs. Ross herself. She must have written in some haste, for she had not wasted words. ‘Dear Sir. I do not doubt but that you will soon re
ceive a message from Mr. Playley telling you that I no longer wish to speak with you. Please, I beg you, ignore what he says. My desire in this regard is unchanged. Indeed, it is stronger than ever. As soon as I am able to arrange my escape from the loving but misguided confinement that holds me here, I will contact you at once. Pray then come to me with all dispatch, for I am much distressed and believe you alone can ease my mind.’
Having puzzled over what this might mean, and found no answer, Adam took his bafflement to Peter Lassimer’s shop. He needed another mind to vex.
‘It is a simple matter surely,’ Lassimer said. ‘Someone in her family does not wish her to speak with you. She describes her confinement as loving.’
‘Yet who and why?’ Adam asked.
‘As for who, I cannot say,’ Lassimer responded. ‘Nor can I tell you why, though the alternatives seem quite limited. Perhaps someone is seeking to suppress inquiry, as they did at the inquest. Perhaps the matter on which she desires to consult you is like to embarrass her family.
‘Of course,’ he added a moment later, ‘it may be the lady has lost her wits through grief. If you find her, she is like to burden you with some fancies of a distempered brain. Maybe her family has arranged for her confinement in some suitable place until the fit passes.’
Adam laughed. ‘If anyone’s brain is distempered here, I vow it is yours, my friend, for your imagination has quite carried you away. Nothing in the lady’s letter suggested a sickness of the mind. That she feels grief I don’t doubt, but many a woman loses her husband. If all ran mad as a result, there would not be enough madhouses in the realm to hold them.’
An Unlamented Death: A Mystery Set in Georgian England (Mysteries of Georgian Norfolk Book 1) Page 6