Good day, sir or madam. I’m Meg Valentine. Nothing to you, I know, but important enough to my neighbours in our little Shropshire community.
I’m an under-gardener at Cliffe House, Bridgnorth, or at least that’s all I wanted to do until I crossed paths with Edwin Hare, a local thief-taker.
What’s a thief-taker? Well perhaps I should explain before I go on. In 1749, in England, the only way to catch a villain who’s stolen from you is to take on a thief-taker. That’s usually a man who’ll dig around until he finds the culprit. Then he’ll bring you back your valuables, and you’ll pay him a reward.
Sometimes, if there are a lot of thefts going on, the higher-ups in the town, like the burgesses, might club together and give a reward to the magistrate to engage the thief-taker. They’d do the same if there’s a serious crime like murder.
The only problem is, many thief-takers are dishonest themselves, and have been known to work with rogues to steal the goods in the first place, then falsely capture them. They’ll return part of the booty, claim their reward, and share the proceeds of the whole enterprise with their thieving friends. I don’t think Edwin is in that category but you can never be too sure.
Where I work, Cliffe House, it’s the home of our magistrate, Aubrey Beaumont, and his much younger wife, Sarah. It’s a fine big house, but I live in a tiny room above the stables, and you can guess what that smells like. The head gardener is my dad, and I work under him. He lives above the stables as well, but my mum stays at their cottage a few miles from the town, at Hampton Loade by the River Severn. She grows vegetables and keeps a few ducks for the eggs. Dad sends her money every week, and I send some when I can.
….. anyway, I can hear the Master calling for his horse, so I’ll have to go. I’ll tell you more when I can.
Leave a Reply