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The Fenian Outrage at Wantsumford Manor
*****
Copyright Oggbashan July 2015
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary, the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.
*****
Chapter One: Wantsumford Manor
My cousins and I like experimenting with new things. We will try anything at least once as long as it isn’t wholly illegal and doesn’t frighten the horses. One of our experiments got me into serious trouble. If it wasn’t for my twin second cousins Felicity and Graham Ffordes I might have ended on the scaffold as a traitor to my Queen and a martyr for a cause I detest.
It happened several months after I had graduated from Oxford. My father wanted me to start to learn my eventual role as a landowner and gradually take over some of the work from him. He had allowed me time to relax after three hard years of study. Graham and I had just returned from a short tour in Europe. I was staying for a few days at Wantsumford Manor which was a small estate in North East Kent owned by Graham’s parents.
Graham’s parents and his twin sister Felicity had come to meet him at Wantsumford Manor. This was an unusual visit because normally they only visited it in summer. In early February it was a dismal place almost surrounded by flooded marshland. The house and garden were on a slight rise which was like a peninsula sticking out into the floods. At this time of year the only approach was from the South-West along an old Roman road from Canterbury until the half mile long drive which had been laid by Graham’s grandfather on Mr MacAdam’s principles.
Apart from welcoming Graham back to England the family visit was to avoid the builders at the family seat in Berkshire. The Ffordes had been remodelling the building to modernise it, particularly the domestic offices which were very antique, and to install SEVEN bathrooms all with plumbing. Unheard of!
Lord Ffordes had taken the whole family to the Great Exhibition and then decided that he needed to bring his Berkshire home up to the modern standards of the mid-nineteenth century. No more food cooked on open smoky fires, no more bucket chains of maidservants for every bath, no more chilly corners for guests to freeze in.
He would have the lot – new kitchens and washrooms, the seven new bathrooms, and steam central heating throughout the whole house including (and this really was radical) the servants rooms!
So the whole family were making the best of Wantsumford Manor. Even with as many fires as the servants could keep burning it was still cold and damp. That disastrous morning had dawned crisp and bright with a film of ice across the floods. Graham and I had decided on a vermin shooting expedition before breakfast.
Felicity declined to accompany us because she had been practising her shooting while we were in Europe. I was relieved. Felicity was and is a better shot than Graham or me. I liked Felicity but her skill with guns made me jealous. I took a double barrelled shot-gun from the gunroom, but Graham borrowed his father’s new French pin-fire rifle without permission.
Lord Ffordes had been praising it as a wonderful improvement on the rifles used by the army. It was a breechloader with metal cartridges, unlike the muzzle-loading rifles still in use.
Graham would not have dared to borrow it except that Lord and Lady Ffordes had left for London the day before. I had said my formal thanks to Lord Ffordes and also raised a subject with him. His response had been most gratifying.
Graham did not want to miss the chance of trying out the rifle before the rest of us left during the day. Neither Graham nor I realised exactly how much the rifle differed from those we had used before.
Both Graham and I are adequate shots. We hoped for a few rats or an unseasonable squirrel – nothing more. And that’s what we got – or rather I did. Graham missed everything he aimed it. Eventually he passed the rifle to me. I wanted to try it. I had been watching Graham impatiently as he missed shot after shot. I hadn’t thought that there might be a reasonable explanation for his lack of success and I was sure that I could do better.
‘Here, Frederick, you try. I can’t hit a thing today.’
Graham took the shot-gun. I opened the breech of the rifle but my hands were frozen. I dropped a cartridge into the mud and lost sight of it. I kicked the mud about as I tried to find it until Graham stopped me.
‘It doesn’t matter Frederick. Father bought hundreds of the things. One won’t be missed.’
It was a long time after that before I saw anything worth aiming at. Graham had potted several rats but the spread of the shot gave him an easier task. To hit something with the unfamiliar rifle I really needed a stationary target. We had walked in a large circle and were back near where I’d dropped the cartridge.
I heard something move on the slope behind us. We were hidden below a hedge at the edge of the flooded area. I looked carefully and spotted a squirrel poised on top of a branch below the crest of the rise. It was poised, still, listening intently. Slowly I raised the rifle, allowed for the drop of the bullet, and squeezed the trigger gently.
The squirrel darted up the tree unscathed, alarmed by a shout from behind it.
‘Damn it! Someone’s shot my hat!’
There was a flurry of movement up the hill. Graham and I looked at each other and took to our heels making best use of the available cover. We crept back into Wantsumford Manor unseen and into the gunroom where we cleaned the guns thoroughly before returning them to the rack. We returned to our rooms, cleaned up and went down to breakfast as if we had just got up.
We thought that I had accidentally damaged a local farmer’s or yeoman’s hat. It was only later that day that we found out how serious my shot had become. We should have recognised that the tone of voice did NOT belong to a local.
The difficulty both Graham and I had experienced was that we were over-compensating for the bullet to drop in its trajectory. The new rifle and cartridges produced a much flatter line in flight and the maximum range was double that we were used to. Both of us had consistently aimed too high.
Chapter Two: I’m not here.
Felicity brought us the news after luncheon.
‘The Duke of Edmondsbury was shot at near here this morning. His hat was knocked off by a bullet. His bodyguards are looking for Fenians who are said to have threatened him because he is a cousin of the Queen and an Irish landowner. They say that a young man was seen nearby. He was slightly built, well dressed, was carrying a rifle and a cartridge has been found …’ Felicity’s voice trailed off as she saw the consternation on our faces.
‘You didn’t! Please, tell me you didn’t!’
‘We did.’ I said ‘At least I did, not Graham. I was shooting with your father’s new rifle at a squirrel but I missed and hit someone’s hat. We heard him yell and then we ran for it.’
‘Frederick!’ Graham exclaimed. ‘Didn’t you go to a Fenian meeting at Oxford?’
I groaned. ‘Yes. I did. It was reported in the local newspaper. I went out of curiosity but I was forcibly ejected after objecting to the speaker’s remarks about the Royal family. The report identified me but not why I’d caused a disturbance.’
‘So you could be in real trouble if you were identified as the man who shot at the Duke of Edmondsbury?’ Felicity asked. She seemed more excited than worried.
‘Yes.’ I admitted. ‘At least until they find out exactly what happened at the meeting in Oxford. They would not believe that it was an accident if they think I’m a Fenian. They’ll probably sling me in gaol until they have made enquiries. I don’t fancy a term in gaol. I certainly don’t want
to be hanged for an assassination attempt.’
‘We are all leaving today,’ said Felicity. ‘I think you have left already.’
Graham and I looked at her. What could she mean?
‘If you have already left, they can’t find you here, can they?’ she asked.
‘But I AM here!’
‘No you are not. You left just after luncheon, didn’t he, Graham?’
‘Of course he did. And – we don’t know where he went.’ Graham was following Felicity’s train of thought much faster than I was. I suppose it’s because he is her twin brother and more used to her.
‘So how have I managed to leave and yet still be here?’ I asked, still unenlightened. ‘My horse is at the Smithy having new shoes fitted. It won’t be here for an hour or so.’
‘Forget your horse. I always fancied playing Flora McDonald.’ said Felicity with a wink at Graham.
‘Felicity! You can’t mean …?’
‘Why not, Graham? Frederick will vanish and all the searchers won’t find him.’
‘Then you had better get moving quickly. I’ll order the carriage to be made ready for us to leave. You have about twenty minutes, Felicity.’
Felicity whispered in Graham’s ear. He whispered back. I was still at a loss. Felicity grabbed my hand and dragged me off upstairs.
‘I don’t understand, Felicity,’ I protested.
‘Shush! Wait until we are upstairs,’ she ordered.
Felicity pulled me into her bedroom. I was horrified. I should not be in a young lady’s bedroom. She shut the door firmly behind me.
‘Now, Frederick,’ she said firmly ‘You have got to obey my orders if you are going to avoid gaol and the scaffold. Will you?’
I nodded.
‘I want you to say it.’
‘Yes, Felicity, I will obey your orders.’ I didn’t know what she had in mind but I was really worried about the situation.
‘You didn’t follow what Graham and I were suggesting downstairs, did you, Frederick?’
‘No. It was obvious that you two did. I haven’t a clue.’
‘You are leaving with us,’ I started to speak but her hand covered my mouth ‘as my maidservant.’
I tried to say something but Felicity clamped her hand tighter across my mouth.
‘Flora McDonald did that for Bonnie Prince Charlie. She took him through the searchers as her Irish maid. It should be easier for us because you are not as tall as he was. You, Graham and I are about the same size. If anything you are slighter than I am.’
I nodded. It was true. Felicity and I are the same height but she is the heavier by a few pounds. She and Graham were almost identical until they were about fourteen. Even now they were still obviously twins. If Graham shaved off his moustache and they dressed identically they could pass for twin brothers (or even twin sisters!).
‘Can you keep quiet?’
I nodded again. Felicity removed her hand from my mouth.
‘We have to get dressed, both of us, in the next few minutes. Graham is packing your clothes into your valise. That will go in the carriage with us as part of his luggage. Mine is already packed and will be loaded. You will have a servant’s wicker basket. In that we can put what you are wearing now, and a change of maidservant’s clothes. But we have to hurry. Strip to your underpants. Now!’
I thought of objecting but Felicity’s hand started to reach for my mouth again. I stripped. She unlaced her dress and threw it on her bed. My eyes opened wide at the sight of her corset and crinoline. Her breasts were more exposed than I’d ever seen them even in her lowest cut evening gown. She saw me looking.
‘Nice aren’t they?’ she said, cupping them in her hands ‘Do you like what you are getting?’
She giggled at my surprise.
‘I know what you were discussing with my father last night. He told me. When were you going to propose?’
I gulped. ‘St Valentine’s Day.’ I whispered as I removed the last piece of clothing except for my underpants and socks.
‘I think I’d like you to propose now,’ Felicity said ‘because you are seeing more than even a fiancé‚ should see.’
I dropped to my knees, took her hand, and looked up at her.
‘Miss Felicity, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’
‘Yes, Frederick, I will.’ She pulled my head hard into her soft cleavage and held me there. After a few blissful seconds she pushed away and held my shoulders.
‘Now, my intended husband, you have to become my maid. Stay kneeling there.’ She went into her dressing room and returned with a large armful of garments.
‘This is your chemise. I’ll put it on for you. Hold your arms up.’
She fed my arms into the sleeves of the white lace-trimmed chemise and pulled it so that it spread around my knees.
‘Now your corset.’ She laced the shabby well-worn corset tightly, and then stuffed stockings between it and my chemise to give me a bust.
She stood me up so that I could climb into a small diameter crinoline which she laced to my corset. An old pair of her buttoned bootees on my feet and I was ready for the gown.
‘This is an old gown that I used to wear for walks around here when it is muddy. I haven’t worn it for years.’
She threw the gown over my head and laced its back. The sleeves were unfashionably narrow but the dress was just full enough to sit properly over the small crinoline.
‘Good.’ Felicity said. ‘Now to turn you from a lady in an out of date style into a ladies’ maid. Here is an apron. Put it on while I dress.’
I tried, but I had never tied an apron. Felicity was dressed before I had tied that apron. She spun me round and tied that large waist apron neatly.
‘Men!’ she snorted. ‘You can’t do anything useful.’
She stuffed my discarded clothes into a dusty wicker basket on top of a pile of female clothing and donned a heavy hooded cloak.
‘We can’t let your hair be seen. It is too short. You’ll need a shawl even under a hood.’
She went back into her dressing room and returned with a silk Paisley shawl and a handful of scarves. She tied one of the scarves tightly around my head. It covered my forehead and all my hair. Then she wrapped the shawl over the scarf, crossed it under my armpits and tied it behind my back. The shawl covered my lower face just leaving my nose and eyes visible.
‘Apart from a coat, that should do.’
I tried to speak but my voice was muffled by the shawl.
‘What was that?’ Felicity asked, pulling the shawl away.
‘I can hardly breathe,’ I said. ‘With the shawl and the tight corset …’
‘You’ll have to manage,’ Felicity retorted as she replaced the shawl. She wrapped an old cape coat around me, buttoning it down the front. She pulled my hands through the slits and shook her head.
‘Those hands won’t do. They are too clean and soft for a maid’s’
She rummaged around in a drawer and produced an old pair of leather gloves which she fitted on my hands and buttoned at the wrists.
‘There. We’re ready. Just pick up your basket and off we go.’
I picked up the heavy basket and followed Felicity out of her bedroom. I felt very odd walking with a crinoline. I had to be very careful on the stairs because I couldn’t see my feet.
In the hall Felicity opened the front door and pushed me out towards Graham who was waiting with a closed carriage and a groom. Graham was on the seat dressed up to the nines as a gentleman driver. The groom held the horses as I clambered awkwardly into the carriage. No one would help a maidservant.
Felicity came out followed by the butler. He was elderly and was in charge of Wantsumford Manor as a form of retirement. He had been with the family since Lord Ffordes’ father’s time. Felicity climbed nimbly into the carriage then leant out of the window.
‘Hamble!’ Felicity said ‘Master Graham and I are going to visit Aunt Gloria on our way to London. She asked us to bring Abigail back with us. I understand that the girl has been to see her grandmother nearby.’
‘Yes, Miss Felicity,’ Hamble replied. ‘What message shall I give to any callers?’
‘Only that we have left for London. Don’t mention Aunt Gloria. She detests visitors.’
‘Miss Felicity, what about Master Frederick?’ Hamble asked.
‘He’s already left. Oh. That reminds me. His horse is being fitted with new shoes. It should be brought here today. Please instruct the stable staff to look after it. Master Frederick is coming back when the family return next week.’
‘Yes, Miss Felicity.’
‘Thank you, Hamble. Until next week. Goodbye.’
‘Goodbye, Miss Felicity. Goodbye, Master Graham.’
‘Goodbye’ they chorused as the groom released the horses and scrambled up beside Graham. We set off at a fast trot down the macadamised road.
I started to speak but Felicity leapt to my side and gagged me with her hand. She hissed in my ear.
‘Quiet! If there is any problem it is likely to be in the next mile or so. You just sit quietly and don’t say a word. No. I’ve a better idea.’
She unbuttoned the front of my cape coat and lifted my apron.
‘You’ll have to help. Slide your hands under the apron’s waistband.’
I did. It wasn’t easy because Felicity had tied that apron so firmly. Before I realised what she intended she pulled a scarf from her coat pocket and tied my wrists together. She lowered the apron covering my tied hands and then re-buttoned the coat. I looked at her quizzically. What was she up to?
Felicity pushed the hood and the shawl back off my head. She turned away from me for a couple of seconds then stuffed my mouth full of wadded scarf. She wrapped another scarf across my mouth and knotted it behind my head. Then she replaced the shawl and hood.
‘There. That should do. You are not just a maidservant. You are a pert and insolent maid who is being punished. You will stay like that until we reach Aunt Gloria’s. She will see that you are soundly whipped.’
I couldn’t protest. I was too soundly tied and gagged. What sort of woman had I asked to marry me? I had time for such reflections as we bowled down Wantsumford Manor’s long carriage drive. A little way beyond the lodge gates a command resounded.
‘Halt the carriage!’
The carriage slowed and stopped.
‘Oh, it’s you Master Graham.’
‘Good Afternoon, Major Jones.’ Graham replied. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘Nothing, I hope. We are supposed to be looking for a desperate Fenian who shot at Lord Edmondsbury this morning. Personally I think that it was an accident but there is a fuss because a new fangled rifle of some sort was used. Had it been a shot-gun I think it would have been ignored as a hunting mistake. But a rifle … you don’t use one for hunting squirrels. I and my men are to stop all travellers, to examine them, and to make sure they are not concealing desperadoes. Who is in the carriage, Master Graham?’
‘My sister and a troublesome maidservant that we are returning to our Aunt while we are on our way to London.’
‘Troublesome maid?’
‘She’s a bit pert and fancies the men too much. A man’s clothing was found in her basket. Fashionable clothing. No doubt our Aunt will whip the truth out of her.’
‘I have to see inside the carriage, Master Graham.’
‘Of course, Major Jones. Just don’t expect any answers from the maid. She has been tied and gagged for the journey. She’s too elusive otherwise.’
‘I see.’
Major Jones’ face appeared in the carriage window.
‘Afternoon, Miss Felicity. Just you and this maid in here?’
‘Yes, Major Jones. Just as my brother told you.’
‘Can I see a bit more of the maid, please, Miss Felicity? I have to say that I have examined every traveller.’
‘If you must,’ Felicity sighed. She pulled the shawl away from my mouth disclosing that I was tightly gagged. She unbuttoned my coat, lifted my apron and showed my tied wrists.
‘This is Abigail, the minx. Satisfied, Major Jones?’ Felicity asked, rearranging my clothing so that I was as before.
‘Yes, Miss Felicity. Give my regards to your parents, please.’
‘Thank you, Major Jones, I will.’
Major Jones stepped back from the carriage.
‘Thank you, Master Graham. You can drive on.’
‘Thank you, Major Jones.’
As the carriage moved off I was fuming inside. Graham’s conversation with Major Jones showed that Felicity and he had meant me to be tied and gagged but they hadn’t told me what they were going to do. I struggled with my bound hands. ‘Stop that, Abigail!’ Felicity hissed. ‘You are staying like that until we get to my aunt’s house.’ Then before I realised what she was doing she dropped to the floor of the carriage and tied my ankles together. As I feebly tried to kick she tied the end of the scarf round my ankles to part of the carriage seat.
Jeannie
- 21.03.2022
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