MISSED
The Fenian Outrage at Wantsumford Manor
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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.
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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."