Monday, January 19, 2009

Not every crime in a story need be theft or murder

Here's a case from today's Old Bailey Online that demonstrates that not every crime in a novel need be as serious as theft or murder to give a writer a lot of story possibilities.

Thomas Eady was charged with damage to property, for the unlawful cutting down of a horse chestnut tree on land leased from "Mary Jane Dowager Lady Dacre" by Sir William Dolben, a baronet. (Shades of Sir Walter Elliot!).

As the case proceeds, it's clear that there was a chestnut tree cut down, it was chopped up into four pieces, and loaded into a cart by Eady and two others known only as Welch and Crow. Later boards of chestnut were found in the establishment of a man named Webb, who has run away. Apparently Welch and Crow had absconded as well, as a search of Old Bailey Online didn't turn up anyone by those names being charged with that crime in 1798. I do note, however, that "There were two other Counts for a similar offence, varying the manner of charging it." Maybe this refers to Welch and Crow? I'm not sure.

Tom claims that he only helped load the wood, not cut down the tree.

Interestingly, Sir William Dolben gives Tom a "good character," and Tom is let off with a fine of 1 shilling. This tells me that they believed Tom only helped with the loading and not the cutting - although why Tom would think the cutting was legitimate is not explained, and we don't know who Welch and Crow might have been. Perhaps they claimed they had permission, although the fact this was apparently done at night might have given Tom pause. It also makes me wonder if Tom wasn't too bright, and everybody knew it, so they could believe he could buy whatever story Welch and Crow told him about the circumstances.

What gets my story-telling imagination going with this case, however, is the discrepancies. When Tom's taken into custody and is allowed to go home to leave his tools, his father, with whom he lives, is reported to have said, "why, you were not concerned with Welch and Crow in stealing that tree; the prisoner said, yes I was; the old man said, oh dear, to many domes as I have asked you about it, and you have always denied it..." I was confused by "to many domes" so I looked at the original text and I believe it actually says, "so many times".

So apparently Father had questioned his son about the tree, and the son had always denied being involved. One could argue that if Tom only helped load the wood, he wasn't directly involved and perhaps that's what he meant, but I find it interesting the Father is ready to believe his son has been lying to him. However, I also note that Father is not called upon to repeat this in court; this is reported by a constable named Trott.

Also, according to another constable named Pidkin (I can't make up names like these!), Tom freely confessed that not only had he helped cut it down, "there was a d-d deal of trouble in it, it lodged in the next tree, and we were forced to cut off three lengths before it would drop..."

Now, either Tom said this, or he didn't. If he did help cut down the tree, why would he confess to the point where he's complaining about the effort it took to the constable when he's in custody and then deny it on the stand? Is he lying on the stand? Perhaps, although Sir William apparently thinks he's a good guy.

Or is the constable lying? Why would he do that, especially when it seems Sir William liked the guy enough to speak for him at the trial? And why put it so graphically (with the cursing)? And is Trott lying, too, about what his father said?

Or could both stories be true? What if Tom was intellectually impaired but also eager to please and seem like a "regular guy," or perhaps even a tough guy. Constable Trott's questions give Tom the notion that Trott will be impressed if he helped cut down the tree, especially such a large one. So he says yes, he did it -- and what's more, it wasn't easy. He isn't thinking of the consequences of that confession; he's only trying to impress the constable and seem like a formidable fellow.

What if one or both of the constables have it in for Tom? What if Tom's relatively light sentence angers them?

What's the deal with Tom and his father? Father seems so ready to believe Tom's guilty -- why? What does that say about their relationship? What caused that? Or is Constable Trott lying about what he heard? Why would he do that?

If I were to write a story based on this, I'd have Tom either slightly mentally retarded or so young he could be naive enough to be tricked/conned by Welch and Crow to help them. Then I'd give him a sister, and make her the heroine. Sir William becomes a handsome nobleman who wants to believe Tom's not involved, but can't deny at least some of the evidence against him.

According to the transcript, Tom works as a laborer, so clearly the family's not well to do. What if Sis is in service at Sir William's house? That gives them an existing relationship of master and servant, and would serve to bring them together and keep them in contact.

Sis could be very protective of Tom, especially if Father's constantly expressing his disappointment in his son, or always suspecting him of being up to no good (perhaps because of a childhood incident of minor theft or lying).

Let's think about Constable Pidkin, the one who claims to have heard Tom confess. Maybe he's a jilted suitor of Sis. Or maybe he has another reason for wanting Tom imprisoned. Maybe he thinks Tom's some kind of threat to the community and takes this incident with the tree as evidence to prove his point. He could be well-meaning, but over-zealous.

If Trott and Pidkin are both lying, obviously they're friends -- unless you wanted to have Trott forcing Pidkin to lie for him for some reason, or vice versa. That would make for another layer of conflict.

Maybe Sis had a relationship with Pidkin or Trott, but the appearance/arrival/presence of Sir William has affected her feelings as in, she's way more attracted to Sir William than the constable. But there's no way a baronet's going to marry a maid. They could certainly become lovers, though.

And what about Welch and Crow? Do they return to make more trouble?

This is a relatively minor legal action - truly a seedling. But there are many ways one could grow a story out of it.

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