Rough Justice - Part 4 (of 6)

The Assistant

It was some time before Diggley returned with Bridges and a guard in tow. Without the dominating presence of his master, the apprentice hangman was at a loss. He was a shy type, uncomfortable around women, a social failing obviously enhanced by his ghoulish trade. He was flustered in the presence of the two women, who, when scrubbed up, would have turned many a male head. For some reason, he felt obliged to take his cap off, revealing an unruly mop of mousy hair. Before leaving, Sarah asked Diggley to bring by a few things. Nodding his assurances, he happily left the women and Bridges to their unusual conversation.

Bridges was staring. Sarah was still wearing her serving dress. It was a short sleeved white shift deeply scooped at the front to expose her ample bosom. The black lace up corset she wore on the outside inhibited her movement somewhat, but helped accentuate her natural curves. It was finished off with a now filthy black ankle length skirt. Her boots and stockings had long been confiscated. She had a pretty heart-shaped face framed by her long brown hair, which she usually wore tied up as was the fashion of the day. She had high cheekbones and deep brown eyes, a petite nose and wide, sensual mouth. Her mother came from Romany stock, but her father came from a long line of Saxons.

Kate on the other hand was more slightly built. She belied her Celtic roots with piercing emerald eyes, button nose and Brownish red hair. Hers was a one piece full length maid’s dress, modestly cut at the neck, but still enough to show off her pretty neck and give the merest hint of the pert breasts hidden underneath.

It was clear he was out of his element, so Sarah tried immediately to put him at ease. “Don’t worry sir, we won’t be any trouble. We just want to know some things. Things that will make it easier on us tomorrow. Can you help?” Bridges looked at them in mild panic, much to the amusement of the guard standing by the locked door. “Uhm, I, uh, Uhm” was all he could manage. Guessing at the source of his unease, she asked kindly “Bridges, do you have a girl?” Bridges knew the answer to this one. “No misses, I can’t say I do” Then, looking at them hopefully, “I’m sorry miss, It’s just that we don’t usually hang the pretty ones. Master says it’s very good for business when we do.” His eyes settled on Sarah’s chest. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but those are very nice miss.” Then, with a sudden look of mischief in his eye, his eyes darted to the bored looking guard and then back to Sarah. “It might help me be less nervous-like miss if I could have a little feel…”

Sarah’s goodwill vanished immediately. “Certainly not! I’m not a harlot and never will be. If that’s the price for your information, you can keep it.” Bridges was in no hurry to absent himself from their company. He knew that his window was between now and noon tomorrow, it was unlikely that the opportunity to stay in the company of two such good-looking women would come his way again any time soon. He reverted to type, easing back into the oily obsequiousness that typified his dialogue with Ketch. “Begging you pardon miss, I meant no offence. Forgive us for our… indiscretion.” Sarah harrumphed. “Bloody forgiveness again – I’m the one being executed and they’re all after MY forgiveness.” She took a deep breath before continuing.

Kate moved over to the bed to check Jane was still asleep. When she returned, Sarah started her inquisition. “Now Mr. Bridges. Kate here wants to know if its painful, and for that matter, so do I. Ketch mentioned something about assistance and payment. What was that all about?

Bridges eyes lit up. This was his job after all. He was keen to impress with his acumen even without the reward he had wanted. Their rapt attention had to be reward enough, besides, there would be plenty of opportunities for the other thing when they were trussed up good and proper like little chickens.

“Well, there’s two ways about it. The posh hangmen get all la-de-dah about some new drop method they use up in London, using all sorts of weights and measures, but Ketch has always been partial to see his customers do the old air dance. It makes for a better show you see. Time was the rich folks would get the chop if they misbehaved, but ever since they settled on the gallows for everyone, them rich folk have been trying to make things as quick as possible for their sort. Getting to the point of it. I’m told it can be painful, but if you gets lucky, the fall breaks your neck and you go off all quiet-like. Only begging your pardon, I’m terribly sorry to tell you that generally it’s only the fat and plump ones who go that way on account of their weight pulling them down. I bet you girls wish you’d had a few more pies now eh?”

Kate was getting annoyed “Get on with it Bridges else I make good on my promise to Ketch and give you one where it hurts”. Bridges looked startled “He said you’d be a bother he did, and he’s usually right. Now, where was we. Yes. I remember. Right. The rope we use is made of good inch-thick triple braided Indian hemp, which is stretched on a weight overnight to cure it of any spring or bounce. That’s because don’t want you bouncing up and down like a puppet when you hit the end. Then we make the noose up, usually with thirteen coils – the gallows has thirteen steps too – unlucky that is!. Anyway, if these coils are put at the back of the neck, then you’ll die a slower death by strangulation as the rope squeezes your neck closed and starves your brain of air. However, if the knot is tied under your left ear and the drop is properly sorted, then there’s a good chance your neck will break and you’ll snuff it more of less instant-like.”

Sarah considered this calmly. “You still haven’t answered the question, what was Ketch on about?” Bridges sighed. “That’s the bad news. Normally, assistance is given to those who pay. Slip us some silver and we’ll jump on your shoulders or pull on your legs until your neck snaps and you expire. But we’re under strict rules to do this the old way. Someone out there wants you to pay. We’re to noose you behind the neck and give you a short drop. All except the baby-killer. Her father knows people and she’ll die quick. What Ketch said before was to scare the daylights out of ya. But you don’t look the type to scare easy. It’s wasted on her anyway” he said, jerking his thumb in Jane’s general direction. “She’s a scared rabbit."

“Not anymore she’s not” said Kate “her mind is gone. She’ll be no trouble.” Bridges nodded. “For the best I suppose” he said.

“What will happen tomorrow morning?” asked Sarah bringing them back on topic. “We’ll come in and fetch you around half eleven” said Bridges, “You’ll be asked to tie up your hair if you haven’t already done so and then given a white bonnet to wear over it. We then tie your hands behind your back. With girls like you, Ketch likes to tie the arms at the elbows as well as it makes you chest stick out. We leave the leg irons off as it makes the job more trouble than it’s worth. When you’re ready and trussed up, you’ll be shackled together and taken in an open horse drawn cart to the gallows – it’s not far from here – and the holy man will be with you to give you some solace if you go for that sort of thing. Don’t worry about the crowd. They were a bit unruly this afternoon, but they’re usually proper respectful on a hanging day. Once we get there, you’ll be helped up the gallows steps. This is when it gets a bit difficult sometimes, as prisoners react in very different ways when they see the nooses dangling there. It brings it home to them. You won’t know what you’ll do until you get there, but for your sakes, I hope you find the courage to face it with dignity.

We’ve had to drop a few girls in dead faint in the last couple of years – I remember Mary Brady in Cheltenham last year. Plain looking girl – poisoned her mistress – like a sack of potatoes she was. Poor dear hadn’t the foggiest what was happening to her, but they told us to get on with it, so we did. She had to be held by the arms, one guard each side of the trap. They almost forgot to let go when it opened and one almost followed her through. He caught the rope instead to stop himself, spinning the old girl half-round and back a few times, but funny enough it probably killed her quicker.”

“Anyway” he continued “where was I again. Hmm. Yes. I know. We’re on the scaffold now. We line you up in front of the nooses - like we did when we came in before – but we didn’t have the nooses then obviously. You then get a chance to say your piece, but not long mind, the masses don’t like to be kept waiting. You are offered a white hood – that’s the law. Some unfortunates like to have it, some don’t – you takes your choice, and if you accept, it goes over your head. We noose you as instructed while the holy man reads the Psalms, and when he gets to the Amen part, Ketch’ll pull the lever and down she’ll go.

“Usually we’d drop you together, but orders is orders, so that one goes first” he said, pointing at Jane again. “and if she struggles she gets assistance. You’ll know she’s gone as we won’t hood you until we’re ready drop the next one. Once we’re happy she’s with the angels, you” this time pointing at Kate “go next. We’ll leave you to your struggles – no assistance mind - and shortly after you hit the end of the rope, we drop Sarah here. The law says we have to leave you to hang for an hour before letting you down. Then you are put in the pine coffins you came with, and if the court is merciful, released to your kin for burial.”

Kate and Sarah sat silently as Bridges concluded his morbid lesson. It was Sarah who spoke first. “The judge. The old rheumy one who sentenced me, do you know of him?” Yes I do, why do you ask?” replied Bridges. “I thought he was having a seizure at the time, do you know of his ailment?” Sarah replied. “Ah yes, his name is Mr Justice Cartwright, but they call Mr Justice Spunk.” Perplexed she asked “Why is that?” Bridges laughed “That’s because he’s usually busy pleasuring himself when he sentences women to hang. I gather he got his timing wrong today…”

Aghast, Sarah rose and purposefully moved toward the cell door “Thank you for your frankness Mr Bridges. You have been most helpful. Now, if you don’t mind, please excuse us as we prepare ourselves to play our part in your spectacle.” Bridges looked longingly at Sarah’s breasts, before nodding toward the guard and heading to the door. Just as he was about to leave, he turned back and said, maliciously “You have nice strong necks. You’re going to dance for us just fine.”

Sleep

Sarah did not know how long it had been since Bridges left. The lamps Diggley had provided for them had been dimmed to conserve oil – they had to last until dawn. Jane was still asleep on the straw bed and showed no signs of waking. She was glad for that. The through-the-night ordeal would have been difficult enough without having to listen to the pathetic ramblings of her disconnected mind. The fraught day had caught up with Kate, who was sat on the floor, leaning against the wall and fitfully dozing.

Without any working church bells, clock towers or other time-keeping devices within earshot or sight, Sarah became fixated on the small window high up on the wall, waiting to see the darkness lighten into the dawn. She thought she might hear the birds first, they usually started an hour or so before the sun actually came up, and so sat down and closed her eyes for a brief moment, imagining that the dank, humid air was actually a warm summer breeze caressing her face.

Her imagination took her away from the day’s torments, and was momentarily transported to clearing in a bright and airy forest. She could smell the sweet smell of the earth, and feel the woodland debris under her bare feet. She reached out a hand to feel the rough bark of the ancient oak tree beside her, and let her fingers caress the nooks and crannies of its crenulated bark. Then, in front of her, she saw a patch of white lilies. They intrigued her. There was something not quite right about them. She looked again, disconcerted now. What was it about lilies? Then she remembered. They were the flowers most often given at funerals… flowers for the dead.

The summer breeze turned chilly as she suddenly sensed movement above her. She craned her neck to look up at the branches above - just as a hangman’s noose dropped out of nowhere and seized her around her throat. She gasped in shock, as the rope constricted tightly around her neck and jerked her off her feet. She tried to scream, but she could not breathe, her vision was going black… and she woke up, sitting bolt upright with a violent start, heaving for breath, before slumping back against the wall and gathering her wits.

She had no idea how long she had been asleep, but a quick glance at the dirty window quickly confirmed it had been much longer than she intended. The oil lamps had burned out and as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could see the cell was starting to fill with a blue-ish kind of gloom heralding the coming dawn.

She couldn’t hear the birds, and she was puzzled for a moment until she heard the soft patter of rain on the stones outside. Kate stirred, rubbing and opening her eyes, momentarily confused until she remembered her whereabouts. Jane was still soundly asleep. “Sarah – what time is it?” said Kate “I need to know what time it is. I need to know…” Sarah looked at her kindly. “I don’t know, but we’ll ask Diggley when he comes next.” She was worried. It wasn’t getting any lighter and there was no way to tell how long she had dozed off for. Her answer was not long in coming.

Hope Extinguished

There was movement by the door, as the heavy iron key turned in the lock and their benevolent jailer made his way into the room, followed by a jolly looking fat man with a white priests collar. With a sharp intake of breath, Sarah practically whispered to Diggley, who was fussing by the table “Sir, what time is it sir? Is it the morrow already?” Diggley looked up from some of the articles he was busying himself with, and said, solemnly. “It is seven o’clock miss. I came in earlier, but as youse were all asleep I didn’t have the heart to wake you. It’ll have done you all some good miss.” Five hours left. Five short hours. She had been asleep for six long hours. Six wasted hours. She felt like weeping. She looked at Kate, who took the news in her stride, nodding to herself and mumbling incoherently.

Diggley broke the awkward silence. “Ladies. I give you Parson Bugglesworth. He is here to speak with you about salvation of your souls and some other gubbins if you’re of a mind to hear it.” The Parson bowed courteously, “The good Lord be with you in your hour of desperate need.” Diggley sighed. “Bugglesworth, save it for later. I have some announcements for the benefit of these ladies, and would be most obliged if you’d keep your gob shut while I get on with it.”

“Miss Andrews, it seems your mistress was not as heartless as you might of thought.” He motioned to the door and a guard walked in carrying three equal sized boxes. “She has taken pity on you and your fellow strugglers, and in a fit of untypical generosity, has asked me to present you ladies with the gift of these three dresses. They’re not much, but they are clean, and she thought you might like to present yourselves well to your Lord as you stand before him in judgment.” The guard deposited the boxes on the table. Diggley motioned to it, “I’ve brought you some things, at Miss Thorn’s request, so you can scrub up nice and proper and make yourselves presentable. When Parson is finished, or when you’ve ‘ad enough of him, I’ll bring in a tub and some water so’s you can wash.” The guard departed.

No sooner than he had left, than the Shire Reeve appeared, looking pale and nervous. He cleared his throat. “Miss Thorn, Miss Andrews… is Miss Daniels asleep?”, “Yes, she is” said Kate “What is it to you?”. “I have official news for you” said the Shire Reeve, “and as it will not be pleasing to hear, I do not think there is anything to gain by waking Miss Daniels up.” He reached into his coat and withdrew three scrolls of parchment. “Ladies, it is my unpleasant duty to convey to you the orders which are written on these scrolls. Having examined all three, I can vouch that they are identical, so to spare you further troubles, I shall read only one, unless you have strong objection to this.” Kate turned away, waving her hand dismissively “Just get on with it.”

The Shire Reeve unrolled one of the scrolls, which had been bound by red ribbon and started reading “On this day, Sunday the 30th of July, in the year of our Lord eighteen twenty one, it is confirmed that Miss Sarah Thorn, having been found guilty of murder before the Assizes held at Braley-upon-Avon on the Saturday preceding, and having been sentenced to death by hanging, has had her case duly considered by Court of Appeals, who having regard to all the facts and circumstances of her case, find no cause for mitigation and hereby deny clemency. The office of the Shire Reeve is therefore requested to officiate upon, and expedite the execution of said sentence no later than the hour of noon on this day. May God have mercy on her wretched soul.”

The Shire Reeve stopped reading, and looked down to the floor “The outcome is the same for Miss Andrews and Miss Daniels. I am truly sorry, I thought all of you were good for transportation, but it appears the powers that be have other ideas.” He sighed. “What you do now is for yourselves to decide, but I am bound to say that it will go better for you if you come quietly when the time comes. Some find comfort in what the Parson here has to say. I hope you do.” With that, and with eyes still fixed firmly on the floor, he turned on his heel and strode out.

... to be continued.

(c) 2006 - Son of Ketch - Do not reproduce without permission (sonofketch@yahoo.co.uk)