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Rebecca and The Bloody Codes

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Chapter 13 Keeper’s Office, Ramsey Prison House

Allen Breaker was a man of very little patience. He had been informed by Sir Elliott to expect a special prisoner this mid-day. But it was already well past one. He paced his office, wondering what could delay the ‘delivery.’

A knock came on his door and his assistant, Owen Spite stuck in his head. “Delivery here, Keeper.”

“At last! Let me see those two bull calves first.”

The two escorts shuffled in with their caps in hand and heads down. They well knew Keeper Breaker’s temper.

“What in the name of Hades took so long?”

“Sorry, your honor,” said the taller one. “Jacks and me was there on time right and proper, but the watchman brought the girl late and then the court was behind and then they took a God-awful time with her and then the watchman didn't fancy giving her up and then she was tired and walked slowly, though Jacks beat her regular with a stick.” He recited this all without a breath and then fell silent.

“Toby's told God's truth, your honor!” added the shorter man.

“I’ll check with Mr. Fair. If you’re lying to me, I’ll have your hides!”

“God’s truth,” repeated Toby.

“Owen,” shouted Allen. “Bring the meat in.”

Spite brought in Rebecca, still cuffed and shackled.

Allen surveyed her from head to toe and liked what he saw.

“All right you two blunderbusses get out of here,' said Breaker, mollified. "Go grab a tankard of ale each, it is a warm day.”

“Thank you much, your honor,” they both said, tugging their forelocks and bowing their way out.

Allen sat behind his desk and gestured Spite to leave.

Rebecca, tired and scared had yet to make a sound.
 
The nomenclature, if that’s the appropriate term, is a masterful addition.

Praefectus Praetorio said:
Rebecca, tired and scared had yet to make a sound.
Click to expand...

If I may offer Rebecca a nomenclature-free word of advice ....

Keep your mouth shut, dear girl. Do not protest, whine, or complain. Experience tells me doing such things in a PrPr story does not help.
 
Barbaria1 said:
The nomenclature, if that’s the appropriate term, is a masterful addition.



If I may offer Rebecca a nomenclature-free word of advice ....

Keep your mouth shut, dear girl. Do not protest, whine, or complain. Experience tells me doing such things in a PrPr story does not help.
Click to expand...
Careful Barb,he may end up writing you a small part as "woman flogged at cart`s tail" or "harlot whipped in Bridewell"
 
Another deep-dive into History. Skip if this kind of stuff bores you.

Ramsey Prison House location in Liberty of the Duchy of Lancaster:

English law and governance is very conservative and retains ancient forms and practices that have long since ceased to have relevance and lead to very strange situations. One of these is the establishment of “Liberties”

In the mists of early Norman rule and even back to Anglo-Saxon times, the Monarch, depending on the good will of his noble vessels, granted special privileges. A Liberty granted sovereignty over an area to the great baron, exclusive of Royal control. Courts and taxes and all the powers of the King were transferred to the Baron. These were called Liberties because the noble was liberated (freed) from Royal control in that limited zone (the people living there had no special freedom, of course). A patchwork of such Liberties existed in London at the time of our history. The Inns of Court (lawyers offices and schools) were Liberties.

Some of the largest Liberties were part of the Duchy of Lancaster. This great Duchy was founded by John of Gaunt (1340 –1399) who inherited much as third (surviving to adulthood) son of King Edward III and gained more by sagacious marriages. On his death, the income of the Duchy exceeded that of the Royal Estates. His eldest son and heir, Henry Bolingbroke, had been exiled as a prophylactic measure, by King Richard II, with the consent of his father, to calm a dispute with another noble.

Taking advantage of Henry’s exile and coveting the rich patrimony of the Duchy, Richard confiscated Henry’s inheritance on the death of Gaunt. This led to Henry leading a revolt, usurping the throne from Richard as Henry IV and murdering him, sowing the seeds for the War of the Roses. When his son, who had been made Duke of Lancaster by his father, ascended to be King Henry V in 1413, the Duchy was merged with the Monarchy and has remained there ever since. A vestige of the separate Duchy is in the custom, even today, at formal dinners in the historic county boundaries of Lancashire and in Lancastrian regiments of the armed forces for the Loyal Toast to the crown to be announced as "The Queen, Duke of Lancaster."

This merger, combined with the historic Liberties of the Duchy, has led to the nonsensical situation that, within the Liberty, the sovereign's power as Monarch is not recognized, while her power as Duke is. I said the English are strange!

At the time of our story, the Duchy of Lancaster was under the rule of an administrator appointed by the King.
 
Last edited:
Praefectus Praetorio said:
A vestige of the separate Duchy is in the custom, even today, at formal dinners in the historic county boundaries of Lancashire and in Lancastrian regiments of the armed forces for the Loyal Toast to the crown to be announced as "The Queen, Duke of Lancaster."
Click to expand...
Moreover, The Prime Minister still has to appoint a Minister of the Crown
with the title of Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster.
Since there is also a Vice-Chancellor (a Judge of the High Court) with an office
that does what little work is required to manage the estates of the Duchy
(mainly collecting rents for the Sovereign),
the Prime Minister has to find other useful jobs for the Chancellor,
like making the tea, and plans for a no-deal Brexit.
The present Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster is Michael Gove.
 
Chapter 14 Rebecca’s Interview

“What’s your name, girl?” began Breaker in a stern voice.

“Rebecca Godwyn.”

“Do you have any money?”

“No, sir.”

“Where are your things?”

“Stolen, sir.”

“Stolen? A thief claims she was robbed. Enough to make a dog laugh!”

“I begs your pardon, sir.”

“Never mind, girl. Where are you from?”

“Dartford in Kent.”

“How long have you been in London?”

“Just dese two days.”

“Do you know anyone in London?”

“Only my Pa’s cousin, Villiam Dodge. I’m told how he’s in deebit prison.”

“Debtors Prison. Who knows you are in London?”

“Just my Ma with my younger brothers and sisters in Dartford. My Pa was killed in de chalk mines. My family needs money awful bad. That’s why I was sent to town. And now I can’t help them!” She let out a sob.

“Are you married?”

“No Sir,”

“Are you a virgin? Have you ever made the beast with two backs?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Ever been with a man? Let him strum your man-trap?” The girl was still confused.

“You know, let him touch you there?” he pointed to her crotch, “and more?”

“OH NO! I’m a good girl. My Pa never even needed to give me a bannocking ever.” Rebecca broke down crying. Breaker let her be for a minute.

“Please, Sir, I’m afeared of hanging. I never meant to do wrong! Do I has to hang?” Tears ran down her cheeks.

“The judge has said so.”

The girl let out a wail and cried harder. Breaker just sat quietly, enjoying her distress.

“And whipped and branded with a hot iron? Once I touched de brand-iron in the hearth and it hurt my finger so! You cannot really brand my poor bryesten, can you? It would hurt so bad!”

“I’m afraid so,” said Allen, transitioning to a softer, sympathetic voice as she wailed in horror.

“Look here, Girl. You’re lucky to be sent here. In most prisons they would just starve you for a week and then hang you.” Rebecca cried out again.

“But here we take care of you,” Owen gave a little chuckle.

Allen gave him a cross look. “You can go!” The assistant went quietly out.

“We feed you well and we even give you some nice new clothes. And you might be able to earn money. But you’ve got to learn to obey.”

“I vill, I vill!” she cried. Finally, someone who seemed sympathetic. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to. I’ll work to pay for de food I took. And money for my family! I don’t understand what else de court person talked about. Please don’t whip me and brand me!! Please, please, I don’t want to hang. My family is depending on me.”

“We’ll see how you do. We make our own decisions here. We can postpone your hanging for a while. If you’re a good obedient girl, we might have the judge reduce your sentence.”

“I vill! I SWEAR TO GOD I VILL!”

Allen Breaker smiled.
 
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