Jane Austen Mysteries 08 Jane and His Lordship's Legacy (11 page)

"I see. In your husband's sudden absence, did you think to enquire of Mr. Dyer whether he had hired Mr. French?"

Jemima shook her head once more.

"Glad to be shut of 'im," a rude voice called out from the back of the room, "and no wonder! Shut of 'im for good you are, now, Jemima!"

The grieving widow half-rose from her witness seat, face 80 ~ Stephanie Barron

flushed. "Who
said
that? What heart of stone would speak ill of my Shafto? Three little 'uns he's left, and the good Lord alone knows how I'll feed 'em. Vipers, all of ye, to spit upon a man's name, and him lying yonder with his eyes closed on this world."

There was a silence, and the turning away of heads; for my own part, I could have applauded the woman's speech. Fight-ing words had afforded Jemima French the strength at least to leave off weeping.

"Mrs. French, you have our deepest sympathy," Mr. Munro assured her. "You may stand down. If any man has the desire to be heard in this proceeding, he may come forward and be sworn. Otherwise, I must beg you to preserve a respectful si-lence. Recollect that we are all of us in the presence of the De-parted."

A chair scraped the floor some distance behind me, as though in protest, but no further gibes were uttered.

"At this juncture," the coroner declared, "it is perhaps best that I state for the understanding of one and all my conclusions as a physician regarding Shafto French's death.

"Mr. Prowting summoned me by express last evening to pre-side over this panel. In the interval between last night and this morning's proceeding, Deceased was attended by Mr. Curtis, a surgeon who resides at No. 4, High Street, and declared to be Shafto French. French's wife was summoned, and having viewed the body, named her husband conclusively. Mr. Curtis further gave his opinion that Deceased departed this life sev-eral days before the discovery of the corpse.

"I examined Deceased only a few hours ago, and found a man in his late twenties or early thirties, to judge by his teeth and the general character of his limbs; a man fairly well-nourished and in tolerable health. No wound is observable in the body that might account for Deceased's passing; no blow to Jane and His Lordship's Legacy ~ 81

skull or limbs could I find. Neither was there any evidence of sickness--no voiding of the stomach or bowels that should sug-gest the work of poison. I may add that had Deceased suffered apoplexy or some other convulsive fit, we might expect to dis-cover blood at the mouth and nostrils. This I did not find.

There was, however, a strong smell of spirits about the corpse--and it has been suggested to me that French may have met his end from excessive drink."

The coroner paused, his gaze fixed now upon the men of the panel, some of whom were shifting in their seats. It was likely any number had been acquainted with Shafto French from birth; and from the knowing glances being thrown about the room, the man was no stranger to a publick house.

"Deceased's clothes were doused with a quantity of gin," Mr.

Munro continued in his clear and imperturbable fashion, "and inebriation may have contributed to the clouding of senses that led to his death. But it is my duty to inform this panel that how-ever deeply Shafto French may have drunk before his demise, it was not of alcohol alone. I discovered Deceased's lungs to be filled with water--a discovery with which the surgeon Mr. Curtis agrees. Deceased met his death by drowning."

In my mind's eye I saw with clarity the muddy surface of Chawton Pond, so close to the house in which I had spent the night--its smooth, dark waters not very deep, perhaps, but suf-ficient to kill a man. Involuntarily, I shuddered.

"How French came to be found in the cellar of a stranger's house is indeed a mystery," the coroner continued serenely,

"but we must conclude he did not arrive there under his own power."

A murmur of excited interest surged through the room. Be-side me, Mr. Prowting uttered a short bark of dismay and sat up the straighter in his seat. "But that is utter nonsense!" he 82 ~ Stephanie Barron

protested. "Why should someone carry Shafto French to the cottage cellar? Why not leave him in the road for all to see, if he had gone and drowned himself?"

"Is it not obvious, sir?" I enquired gently. "Because someone killed him."

Jane and His Lordship's Legacy ~ 83

Letter from Lord Harold Trowbridge to Eugenie, Duchess of
Wilborough, dated 2 November 1783; one leaf quarto, laid;
watermark device coronet over escutcheon containing post-horn
(see Heawood Nos. 2752-62); marked Calcutta to Southampton,
by Grace of the Royal Navy.

(British Museum, Wilborough Papers, Austen bequest)

My dear Mamma--

You will be pleased to learn that I received your last bundle of
letters--spanning full six months, I perceive, of industrious quill-
mending on your part--in one fell swoop, all of them having
arrived by various routes about the globe in the hull of the same
ship, which put in to Calcutta and disgorged its burdens of
Staffordshire dishes, Lancaster woollens, China tea, and good
English salt beef to the admiring multitude. The letters found
their way to me only after a plodding journey of several weeks,
the Governor having trundled us all off to Madras to deal with
one Lord George McCartney, a man whose head is as thick as a
spotted dog pudding. He stiles himself President of Madras, and
has the support of our good Company; but his idiocy in the
handling of his subordinates and the native Nawabs alike
surpasses all belief. Lord George is everywhere known in London
and everywhere liked; but his knowledge of India could not be
fitted into my little fingernail, despite which fact he has
presumed to interfere in the Governor's negotiations with the
Marathas, in the conduct of the Mysore War, and in the
dismissal of General Stuart for systematic disobedience.

McCartney went so far as to have the good General bodily
removed from his quarters and bundled upon a ship bound for
London, complete with his cork leg and some fifty packages. As
the General holds his commission at the will of the King, not the
Company, Lord George is regarded as having dangerously
84 ~ Stephanie Barron

overreached himself; and the officers under Stuart's command
have threatened to mutiny. Naturally, the Governor was at his
most subtle in defusing the situation; but I daresay he shall have
to send his lordship packing before too long--or sail for London
himself.

I tell you of these trivial matters, by the by--which cannot
amuse you a ha'porth, who will be thinking instead of the latest
ton on-dits
and scandal among your friends--because in truth my
heart is breaking. And only you must know that, Mother dear,
and repeat the fact to no one. You alone have my counsel, and
must forget everything I tell you as soon as the words are read.

While travelling in the Governor's train I chanced upon
Freddy Vansittart, en route from a trading expedition in Madras;
he looked as well as ever, and is groaning with wealth, as should
be natural for one of his wit and luck. He tells me of news from
London--in truth, that Horatia is dead in childbed, and the babe
with her. I can see it all: St. Eustace grinning like the Devil's
own dog as the screams of labour were torn from her, convinced
he had found his revenge at last. O, God--that I had never seen
her face! Or touched a hair of her head. I have been the ruin of
several lives, Mamma, as I own to my sorrow; my soul is black.

Horatia died in torment, and I had no knowledge of it for months
after--I sat in the sun while she died, and gazed at the women
of Pondicherry.

And still I cannot leave off hating him. It was he who kissed
her cold cheek when she breathed her last; and it is in his tomb she
will lie forever. She cannot have achieved her twenty-first
birthday.

Freddy could tell me nothing of the babe--whether it was boy
or girl. Write what you can, when you can--and believe me ever
your loving son,

Harry

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Chapter 9

What the Cellar Told

Thursday, 6 July 1809

~

"And so," my brother concluded, "a verdict was re-turned of death at the hands of a person or persons unknown?"

"It was--with Mr. Munro adjourning the proceeding, and placing matters in abeyance until Mr. Prowting should inform him otherwise."

"It is a curious business." Henry drained his dish of tea and pushed back from the breakfast table. He had appeared at the cottage early this morning agog with the news of yesterday's in-quest, which had spread rapidly throughout the town and was subject to every kind of exaggeration. Henry had been unable to attend the proceeding himself, detained by that bank busi-ness which had occasioned his descent on Hampshire; but knowing
Jane
far better than Mr. Prowting, he was confident I should acquaint him with the particulars.

86 ~ Stephanie Barron

"Drowning and murder might arise in a country village from any number of causes," he mused, "--jealousy, petty ha-treds, a dispute of long-standing between two parties. A woman might come into it--or several women, if you like. But why not leave the body with a great stone tied to its neck, sunken in the pond, to be discovered a twelvemonth hence? Why stow the poor fellow in our cellar, deserted as it may have seemed, to be found the very moment the new tenants turned the key in their door?"

"In order to give as much trouble as possible," my mother replied with indignation. "I am quite sure there was some delib-erate design in the business. The mortification is all ours; I do not regard even the unfortunate wife as having any claim to greater misery. It was we who had the trouble of finding the corpse, and suffering the agonies of carters and magistrates and public notice; the widow is merely called upon to bury it."

"Mamma!" Henry cried in mock terror. "You cannot be so heartless!"

"But design, Henry, there certainly was," I insisted.

"Whether to bring shame and suspicion upon the name of Austen--as we may believe
some
in Chawton village should like to do--or merely to employ the most convenient method of hiding an unwanted corpse, there was a good deal of thought in the business. Recollect the matter of the keys."

The final witnesses Mr. Munro called the previous after-noon, to conclude his panel's education, were illuminating--and must give rise to further comment and rumour in the neighbourhood. Kit Duff, publican of the Crown, stated simply that Shafto French had drunk deep of his house's best ale Sat-urday night on the strength of a week's pay, had kept entirely to himself, and appeared disinclined for sociable conversation.

Some small dispute had arisen between French and his fellow labourer Bertie Philmore--"what is Shafto French's cousin on Jane and His Lordship's Legacy ~ 87

his mother's side"--and the two men's argument had stilled most of the public room, with Philmore accusing French of an unpaid debt, and French asserting that he should be a warm man before very long, and would settle all his debts with enough left over to rule them all, besides. The two had quitted the inn just before midnight, when the Crown closed in defer-ence to the advent of the Sabbath.

Bertie Philmore was next called--and admitted in a surly fashion that Shafto did owe him near to five pound, unpaid this year or more. He insisted that the two had parted at his door, with Bertie bound for his wife and bed, and Shafto saying as he had a man to meet--"tho' who should be abroad at such an hour but thieves and footpads, I dare not think." Mr. Munro at-tempted to divide Bertie Philmore from his assertions--to inti-mate, indeed, that the two men had carried their dispute so far as Chawton Pond a mile distant, and that death by drowning had occurred as a natural result of a drunken mill--but Philmore was not to be led. He offered his virtuous helpmate as sworn witness to his boots having crossed the threshold at the stroke of twelve, and could not be swerved from his purpose.

Mr. Dyer the builder proved most edifying in his communi-cations. He was a square-bodied, powerful individual with a lean and weathered face. He commanded instant respect be-fore Mr. Munro's panel, as a tradesman with the livelihood of half Alton's labourers in his pocket. He was little inclined to talk, and answered the questions put to him with a brevity that bordered on the pugnacious. He had indeed used Shafto French in various odd jobs of work that required brute strength but little sense; he could not rely upon the man's appearance from one day to the next; he had thought nothing of a failure to report for work on the Monday, as no doubt French had been drunk of a Sunday. In these opinions, Mr. Dyer seemed to speak for the entire town.

88 ~ Stephanie Barron

At Mr. Munro's further questioning, however, matter of a more serious import was gleaned. Shafto French had been set to work at Chawton Cottage the week immediately preceding our arrival, in digging the new cesspit. Three other labourers, including Bertie Philmore, were engaged, under the direction of Mr. Dyer's son, William, in blocking up the unfortunate front parlour window and throwing out the new bow overlooking the garden. The keys to Chawton Cottage had thus been in Mr.

Dyer's possession--which the builder purported to have re-turned to Mr. Barlow at the George, according to previous arrangement with my brother, at the conclusion of his firm's work.