Riverbreeze: Part 2 (53 page)

As Robert and Jamie moved forward up the aisle, Crockett and Turner both called out to them from the right side of the church and Robert turned to acknowledge them with a genuine smile. But then in the next step he was suddenly falling. He realized in that split second that someone had tripped him and he tried to see who had done it, but everything happened too fast. He grabbed at Jamie, but Jamie wasn’t prepared for his weight and they both crashed to the floor in a clatter of swords.

There was a burst of laughter from a small group of men and more laughter from some of the older boys, but most of the crowd didn’t think it was funny. There was more shouting as several men pointed fingers and named Sparshott as the culprit.

Nick stepped up quickly to help the brothers disentangle themselves from each other and to stand up.

Robert was furious. The man was a snake, a worthless shit-eating whoreson, a filthy low-down rotter, a mud-wallowing pig… Robert couldn’t think of enough insults. As soon as he was on his feet, he stalked over to Sparshott and grabbed the front of his doublet. Sparshott was laughing hysterically and seeing Robert’s incensed face didn’t stop him. “Enjoy your little trip!” He sputtered, spittle flying from his mouth, then guffawed even louder.

That made Robert seethe. “You bastard!” He spit, nearly jerking Sparshott out of his seat. “I ought to slice you up right now.” And with his other hand, he pulled his dagger out of his belt and stuck the point right into Sparshott’s neck under his ear. He didn’t cut him though. He had enough presence of mind to not kill him right here in the church.

Sparshott went completely still; he stopped laughing then. And the crowd went dead silent.

“No, Rob.” Jamie said in a low voice, but he didn’t move to restrain his brother.

“Put the knife away.” Nick said, stepping forward, ready to grab Robert’s arm if Robert showed any sign of pushing the knife in deeper. “You’ll get your chance later.”

“Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” Justice of the Peace Patrick Giles shouted from the front of the church as he scurried around the railing and down the aisle. The second Justice was right on his heels; Sheriff Huett was behind him and Roger left his desk to also offer his aid. “You will cease this quarreling immediately!”

“Rob, listen to us. Listen to me! Put the knife away.” Roger ordered briskly.

“You saw what he did.” Robert said through his teeth. He still hadn’t withdrawn the knife.

“You’ll get your chance later.” Roger repeated firmly.

“Bassett, you will put that knife away and you will release this man right now.” Giles ordered. “Or I will have the sheriff disarm you and charge you with disrupting this court.”

Robert ground his teeth. He hadn’t started this, but he was the one being blamed. “Rob…” Jamie said softly from the sidelines. “Give me your knife.”

He looked at his brother, saw the worry and concern in his eyes. He saw Roger, the same look on his face. He saw everyone else watching him, some of them eager, eager for him to give Sparshott what he deserved, others afraid and nervous that he would actually stab Sparshott. And Robert still wanted to shove the dagger right through the scoundrel’s throat, but he remembered where he was and who he was. And he was not a murderer. He finally withdrew the dagger and let go of Sparshott. He then handed the dagger over to Jamie.

It was as if the entire crowd let out their breath.

“Master Sparshott.” Giles addressed him. “Do you wish to make a complaint against this man?”

Robert tensed as he waited to hear Sparshott’s answer. If Sparshott said yes, he would protest vociferously, but Sparshott did the right thing. He said no.

“As you wish, sir. All right! All right!” Giles yelled over the crowd. “Everybody back to their seats and let’s begin this day’s proceedings.”

“We’ll finish this later.” Robert hissed to Sparshott while Sparshott straightened his doublet and rubbed his neck where the point of Robert’s dagger had made a small scratch.

“You are already in enough trouble.” Justice Palmer said, grabbing Robert’s arm and leading him up the aisle to a second row bench. “You will sit here and await your case in silence.”

Robert did what he was told, but he was still fuming.

When everyone was settled in their seats and quieted down somewhat, Sheriff Huett stood up and commanded everyone in the courtroom to do the same. Then he called the meeting to order by loudly tamping his long staff on the floor three times. “O yes, O yes, O yes,” He boomed, “Silence is commanded in the court while His Majesty’s justices are sitting, upon pain of punishment. All manner of persons that have anything to do at this court draw near and give attendance and if anyone have any complaint to enter or suit to prosecute let them come forth and they shall be heard.”

There were many cases of petty criminal offenses and civil suits on the docket. Robert and the crowd had to sit through the theft of a musket, the theft of a cow, a half-dozen debt suits and three other cases of slander besides Robert’s defamation of character suit, although Robert barely heard any of the cases because he was thinking so hard about how he was going to attack Sparshott. One case involving assault resulting in the death of the victim was forwarded to the General Court for trial.

Each case was heard by the two Justices of the Peace presiding over the proceedings after each plaintiff and each defendant were sworn in. There was no jury; each case moved swiftly and judgment was pronounced on the spot. In the case of the theft of the gun, the defendant was ordered to return the gun and receive fifteen stripes on his bare shoulders. In the case of the theft of the cow, the defendant was ordered to return the cow and then face execution. In the debt suits the defendants were ordered to pay their debts plus a fine and stand outside the church door next court day for one hour with a sign around their necks in capital letters stating their dishonorable behavior. In the slander cases, the defendants were ordered to apologize to the court on their knees and again in church on Sunday and receive fifteen stripes.

This was the punishment that Robert received. His case was last on the docket and was over before it had barely begun. Harris was rather displeased about that; he had wanted more time or more attention, Rob guessed, but his complaint was read and then Huett read Rob’s written confession, instantly resolving the case. The Justices ruled in favor of Harris and pronounced the punishment, and it was only then that Harris looked smug and self-satisfied.

The Justices were in an unyielding mood today and they were relentless in their rulings. (Perhaps the disturbance earlier had something to do with it.) Robert didn’t know if he should be happy or angry. At least they hadn’t ruled that he should be keelhauled. But that was Justice Martin’s specialty. He was the one who preferred to pronounce that punishment, but he was absent today.
This is my lucky day
, Robert thought wryly to himself.

But he wasn’t feeling so lucky when he was stripped to the waist and led to the new whipping post that had been erected a mere day ago. He looked sharply at Sheriff Huett, but Huett could only shrug his shoulders and look apologetic. But Robert couldn’t be angry at him; Huett was only doing his job. As the sheriff it was his duty to build and maintain the stocks, pillories, whipping posts and ducking stools.

The new solid oak post replaced the old decaying wooden post which was positioned on one side of the pillory and situated so that the condemned stood facing the churchyard with the onlookers at his back. Perhaps it had been placed that way so the offender could see the church and contemplate his sins and pray for forgiveness, or maybe it had been placed that way so that the crowd would be outside the churchyard rather than standing on consecrated land while enjoying this rather barbaric punishment. Either way, it was not a welcoming sight.

Earlier, as he had gotten down on his knees to make his apology in court, he hadn’t felt the least bit humiliated. Like he had told Jamie that wasn’t the worst punishment, and he hadn’t been the first to do it and he wouldn’t be the last. But that wasn’t the reason why he hadn’t felt humiliated. He still resented Harris; he still believed that Harris had contributed to Tyler’s death with his dirty, brutal ways. He had made his apology, but he had done it grudgingly, pretending to be sincere.

No, he hadn’t felt humiliated then, but now, going through this…being stripped, then having his wrists strapped to the post and having his hair pulled back and bound up off his shoulders, standing in front of neighbors, friends and enemies alike, this was humiliating, and embarrassing, especially when the sun shone directly on his back, highlighting his scars, causing a wave of murmuring throughout the crowd.

They knew his secrets now. Not how he had gotten those scars, but almost anyone could guess. How else would someone get scars like his? He hated that everyone saw them.

Even so, he stood straight and steady. He didn’t tremble; he didn’t cry; he didn’t complain. He had been through this once before, not in front of so many people, but that experience when he had been whipped by Wesley had somewhat prepared him for this experience. He smiled faintly to himself. How ironic that he could actually find some good out of that awful beating.

Justice Giles was reading something legal from the record book. Roger Wentworth stood next to him, his expression neutral—he couldn’t show favoritism even though Robert knew his heart would be beating faster than normal, and Robert appreciated his concern. The Sheriff was next to Roger, the cat-o-nine-tails whip held tightly in his hand, the knotted leather strips dangling along his thigh. His face was just as devoid of expression as Roger’s. He was all business.

The crowd went quiet, eagerly awaiting the punishment to begin. They had already witnessed four other men receive their lashes, but people never grew tired of watching whippings, keelhaulings, dunkings, ear nailings, even hangings. It was a normal part of their lives. The sinful, the corrupt, the wicked, all must be punished.

Robert didn’t believe that he was either sinful or corrupt or wicked, but he had broken the law by deliberately defaming the doctor. At the time, he had been so crazy with anger and grief, he hadn’t thought about the consequences of his words. Now he knew better. He would not be so reckless next time.

Jamie stood off to Robert’s right. He wasn’t eagerly awaiting the punishment to begin. In fact, he looked positively sick with worry. Robert could see him out of the corner of his eye, loaded down with his shirt, doublet, hat, gloves, pistol, sword and dagger. Robert could imagine what was going through his brother’s mind. Memories of other whippings, his own and the one he didn’t see, Robert’s one and only beating from their older brother.

Giles’ booming voice suddenly carried over the entire crowd. “Master Bassett, you have been found guilty of defamation of character and sentenced to receive fifteen lashes on your bare shoulders. You will receive your punishment now.”

Robert tensed, anticipating the first bite of pain. What would this whip feel like? Certainly it would feel different than Wesley’s hard rigid cane, but before Huett could raise his arm to deliver the first lash, someone threw a stone at Rob. It hit him on the shoulder. And then, in quick succession, another one hit him in the arm and a third hit him in the ribs. He jerked against the straps, twisting angrily towards the crowd. The stones had come from his left side, and he saw three older boys giggling and ducking behind the men in front of them. The taller men moved closer together, sheltering the boys.

He wanted to shout at them, but ground his teeth instead. It wasn’t his place to scold the boys. He was the condemned, not them.

But Giles was good enough to yell out, “Enough!”

That made him feel a little better, but not a whole lot.

The crowd quieted again.

“Sheriff Huett, begin!” Giles ordered.

Robert braced himself, clenching his fists. He had watched as the first four men had received their punishments and they had handled the pain with dignity. No blood had been drawn; the welts would heal without scarring. He could handle this. He could.

The first stroke fell. Robert gasped, but didn’t cry out. His body jerked automatically.

“One!” Giles yelled out.

The next stroke landed, then the third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth. Robert absently listened to the count, gritting his teeth and waiting for it to be over, but not because the pain was unbearable. The strokes were fairly light, he believed. Yes, they stung and it was not pleasant, but it wasn’t as bad as he had originally anticipated. He didn’t want to believe that Huett was holding back for his sake because he didn’t want Huett to get into trouble for showing favoritism, but when someone in the crowd yelled, “Harder, Sheriff! You’re barely marking his back!” and someone else yelled out, “Yeah, you’re going too easy on him. You didn’t go as easy on the others!” Robert knew that Huett had indeed been holding back.

He sighed with despair. He didn’t recognize either voice from the crowd. He didn’t think it was Sparshott, although Sparshott had probably encouraged them to do it.
Bastard!

He knew it was going to get worse now. Huett had been caught and he would have to compensate for his leniency. And that is exactly what happened.

The next stroke hit his back with a loud crack. Robert gasped as if a giant hand had squeezed his diaphragm. That one felt like Huett had put his whole body into the effort. “Nine!” Giles yelled out.