The Remembered (17 page)

'I miss 'im also,' said Elizabeth. ''e is only half a dee's walk. We can see 'im sumetimes,' she tried to reassure herself.
'And we will nay, 'ave grandchildren,' Thomas whispered.
That was the end of their conversation and they didn't speak of it again.
______
After Thomas had left, James was presented to the council of brothers of the order as a novice candidate. The brothers all sat in a large hall that was off the chapel. One half the brothers sat on one side and half sat on the other. The Prior and the subprior sat in the front of the group and asked James to prostrate himself on the ground before them with his face to the floor and his arms outstretched.
'The life that you choose is a 'ard life,' said the Prior. 'Do you wish to follow a life of poverty, work and prayer?'
'Aye,' replied James.
'Are you prepared to live a life of chastity?'
'Aye,' replied James again.
'Will you subjugate your will to the will of God and to the will of this order,' continued the Prior 'and obey me as you wuld God?'
'Aye,' said James, but what he really wanted to say was that he would obey so long as it was God's will, but he felt it better not to say such a thing.
'Will you give all of your earthly belongs to the poor and from this time on 'ave nuthing to call your own?' asked the Prior.
'Aye,' replied James, then added, 'me clothes on me back is all that I own.'
'Vain lad,' exclaimed the Subprior. 'This boy is full of vanity and must be rid of it!'
'In due time,' replied the Prior calmly. Speaking to the rest of the assembly, the Prior said, 'Brothers, shall we accept this lad, James, as a novice in this order?'
James wanted to look up to see who would agree and who would not, but he didn't dare do so.
'It is set'eld then,' said the Prior. 'Novice James, you may arise. Brother Clement, show 'im to 'is quarters with the other novices and then 'ave 'im report to Brother Matthew for work assignment.'
Brother Clement led James to one of the buildings behind the chapel and up a stairway. The building was wooden and covered with plaster and the roof was a heavy thatch. The upper room covered the full length of the building and contained the beds of the novices.
'That will be your bed in the corner, sone,' Brother Clement said pointing to a bed at the far end of the room. 'You will 'ave one blanket and no pillow. You will also find two 'abits. You will wear one for work and the other for sleeping. When the work 'abit needs washing, you will wear the 'abit that you 'ad been sleeping in for work and wash the first 'abit. When it is clean, you will use it for sleeping. You may 'ang your 'abit on the 'ook by your bed.'
'Shuld I change into a 'abit now then?' asked James.
'Aye, and then give me your clothes. You will nay be needing them and we will give them to the poor,' replied Brother Clement.
After James changed, Brother Clement presented him to Brother Matthew.
'Aye, our new novice,' Brother Matthew greeted him. 'It is a bright, sunny dee. Let us 'ave you start by cleaning out the pens for the oxen. Yes, that is a gud place to start.'
Brother Matthew led James to the oxen pen and handed him a wooden shovel and a bucket.
'All these pens must be cleaned oot. And pile the manure over there, we will use it on the garden.'
James looked to where Brother Matthew was pointing and saw a small pile of manure that appeared to be left over from last year. 'This will nay be too bad,' thought James as he took the shovel and bucket.
The work went well enough for awhile, but the manure was deeper than James had expected. He realized that this was going to be a difficult task. The warmth of the sun felt fine at first, but the more James shoveled, the more uncomfortable he became. Sweat ran down his forehead and into his eyes. When he wiped his face and eyes with the rough woolen habit it felt like he was rubbing his face with a stick. Just before dark he stood back to admire his work and was disheartened to see that he had barely made an impact on the amount of manure left in the pens. The oxen were led into the pens at that point by one of the other novices and thankfully, James heard the bell signaling the time to gather for the evening meal.
'So, you are the new novice,' said the novice who had led the oxen to the pens. 'Whot is your name?'
'I am James, and whot is your name?'
'I am Novice Robert and you wuld do well to refer to yourself as Novice James. You will appear to be full of vanity otherwise.'
'Aye, I am grateful to you,' replied James.
'So, you 'ave the blessing of cleaning the oxen pens, then,' said Novice Robert as he surveyed James' work. 'Only the new novices that need to 'ave worldliness removed from them get the 'blessing' of this chore. We 'ave nay 'ad a new novice for sume time, so the pens are deep with manure. 'as your worldliness been removed?'
'It is a 'ard assignment indeed,' observed James, 'boot I do nay know if it 'as removed me worldliness.'
'You do nay know whot 'ard is yet,' replied Novice Robert as he looked upward. 'Do you see any stars? Nay, it will rain tomorrow and then you will know whot 'ard is.'
James looked at the dark sky and indeed, there were no stars.
It was raining when James went to the oxen pen the next morning. The manure that was hard and difficult to break up the day before was smooth and runny now. The shovel was fairly flat, making it difficult to pick up very much manure at a time. Hour after hour James shoveled and the buckets filled slowly. James had been in mud before, but this wasn't mud. The manure clung to his long habit and seemed to climb higher and higher on its own.
By the time that the bell rang for the noon day meal, James' muscles and back ached and his habit seemed almost covered in manure. He was obliged to eat his meal outside the dining hall because of the smell.
He was nearly halfway done with the assignment by the time that the bell rang for the evening meal. Again, he was obliged to eat away from the others.
As James lay in bed that night he thought about his mother and father and the bakery. He wondered whether he had made a mistake. He was starting to miss his home very much. He dreamed that night that he was at home. He could smell the heavy scents of the bread cooking in the large brick oven and could see his father kneading a batch of dough. When he awoke and found that he was not in the bakery, but instead was in a large room full of other novices who were arising for the day, his heart sank. He wanted to go home.
He had washed his habit the night before, so at least today he would start fresh. He ate his morning meal more slowly than the others and had to be encouraged by Brother Clement to hurry along. After he finished, he headed toward the oxen pens for another day of hard work and drudgery. He hoped that his other habit would dry during the day so that he wouldn't have to sleep in it damp.
The corridor leading to the door nearest the oxen pens led by the entrance to the library. As he walked by the door, he heard the Subprior call his name. His first thought was to find a place to hide, but that would only make matters worse.
'Novice James, 'ave you been purged of worldliness?' asked the Subprior with a stern look.
''ow shuld I answer this?' thought James. 'If I say no, 'e will surely send me to the pens. If I say aye, 'e may nay believe me and send me to the pens, or worse.'
'Aye,' replied James in a tentative voice without looking at the Subprior.
'You say that you know your let'ers?'
'Aye,' replied James in a slow and questioning way. He was sure that the Subprior was trying to trick him into a display of vanity.
'Gud, follow me then, boy,' said the Subprior as he turned and entered in to the library.
James had only ever seen one book, but here there were hundreds it seemed. They lined each wall on shelves from the floor to a height higher than his head. The room was well lit with long, high windows on two of the walls. There were four desks in the middle of the room and three of them were occupied by brothers of the order. They didn't look up when James walked in with the Subprior, but busily continued their writing. Each had a quill pen and an ink bottle. James noticed that they each had a blackened finger and thumb on the hand that they used to hold the pen. James looked at his own right hand. He hadn't noticed, but the ink stains that were often on his thumb and finger were gone now, undoubtedly rubbed off by the use of the shovel. Then it made sense to James as to why it was that the Subprior had asked whether he was able to read and write. He had noticed the ink stains on his hand.
'You will use this desk,' said the Subprior, pointing to the desk closest to one of the windows. 'You will report 'ere each dee. This will be your assignment in the future. Do you agree, Novice James?'
'Aye, Subprior,' said James. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. No more shoveling manure.
'You will be a scribe and will make copies of our books and other manuscripts. This is a very important work. One that is abuve your station and one that is nay generally given to novices. See that you perform it well,' said the Subprior.
'Aye,' replied James with some excitement. He could hardly believe that this was to be his work. He walked to the desk and ran his fingers across the wooden top. 'May I sit, then?' asked James.
'You may,' replied the Subprior. 'You will report to me in this assignment. You will nay be late and if you do nay write quickly, it will be back to the pens for you.'
'Aye, Subprior,' replied James. 'I will do well.'
James was determined to not return to the task of cleaning the pens. If that meant copying every book in the library, it was okay with him.

1450

Calais, France

Stamford, England

'Gud dee, me Lord Darby. Welcome aboard,' the captain said as he greeted John to the ship. 'I trust that your business 'ere went well.'
'Aye, very well indeed,' replied John. 'Boot, I am ready to return to England. It 'as been too long.'
John's father had died the year before and had left John in charge of the business. The wool trade had been good to his family and John was one of the most successful men in Stamford. He had also been appointed an aldermen of Stamford, a position of status and power that he much enjoyed. He had not married as yet and his mother was greatly concerned for the lack of grandchildren. He hoped to marry, but running the business and being alderman seemed to take all of his time and interest.
'It will be a gud dee for the crossing, me Lord. We 'ave a gud wind,' said the captain. 'We will be off soon.'
'nay soon enuf,' replied John. 'I still 'ave a long ride after we reach Dover.'
John preferred traveling by horseback and he expected that it would be a five or six day ride to Stamford if the weather held up. He hoped to be in Stamford for the capping of the new steeple on the All Saints' church. The steeple would be capped with a stone cross. His father had funded the construction of the steeple several years earlier, but did not live to see its completion. Being there to see the cap placed meant a great deal to John. He knew that his father would have loved to be there and so he wanted to be there for him. He had left instructions that the cross was not to be placed in his absence. He was concerned though that the overly anxious old priest may give direction to the contrary.
The crossing of the channel was uneventful and John found his horse well fed and cared for in Dover.
'You 'ave made this 'orse fat and lazy,' John jokingly said to the stable owner. ''e will likely nay take a rider now.'
'Aye, me Lord, I 'ave taken gud care of your 'orse and 'ave ridden 'im every dee just as you instructed,' replied the stable owner.
''e is a 'andsume 'orse, is 'e nay?' replied John.
'Aye, me Lord. And 'e is a powerful animal. 'ow far will you go todee, then?'
'It is late,' replied John, 'I will stop at Canterbury tonight.'
John mounted his horse and galloped away.
______
Stamford
'Careful you clumsy ox,' said the old priest to the mason who was preparing the stone cross to be hoisted into position at the top of the steeple. 'You nigh broke it.'
'If you wuld nay stand over me shoulder and watch every move that I made, I wuld nay 'ave difficulty with this rope,' retorted the mason. 'Did nay Lord Darby give instructions to nay hoist this cap until 'e arrives from Calais?'
'To whom do you think that you are speaking?' the old priest responded impatiently. 'We 'ave waited long enuf indeed. Lord Darby delays 'is combing, so we will raise this cap todee.'
A small crowd of faithful parishioners had gathered to witness the capping of the steeple. They were excited to have a steeple that pointed heavenward. Each time that they looked up to it, they were reminded that they were to look to God. The steeple also seemed to make the church look larger and they felt that it raised the stature of the church in the towne.
After several hard days of riding, John was allowing his horse to walk into the towne. Even from a couple miles outside of the towne on a little rise, he could see the grand steeple. It pleased him to know that his father had brought something into existence that would last a thousand years. For most of the rest of the ride into towne his view was obscured by the thick trees that lined the road. As he neared the towne bridge, he came out of the trees and his view of the steeple was no longer concealed. He naturally looked across the bridge and over the towne walls to observe the steeple more closely. He was shocked to see a man at the top of the support scaffolding guiding a rope and at the end of the rope was the capstone.
John nudged the side of his horse sharply with his heals and the horse lunged forward. The sound of the horses' hooves on the cobblestones was amplified as it bounced off the sides of the buildings on the narrow streets. People in the streets hurried out of the way of the thundering horse and rider.
John stopped his horse at the base of the steeple and quickly dismounted. The people who had gathered started whispering to each other that the Alderman would not be happy to see that the old priest had not waited. The mason holding the rope that was being used to hoist the stone cross stopped and looked at John with a frightened expression. He expected that this powerful man would have words to say to him. He was relieved when John instead addressed the old priest.
'Did I nay leave orders that the capstone was nay to be raised in me absence?' queried John.
'Aye, me Lord,' replied the priest.
'Was I nay clear, then?' John pointedly asked.
'Aye, me Lord, you were clear. Boot, we feared that the approaching storm wuld delay you,' said the priest, pointing to the cloudy skies. 'And we expected that you wuld nay want the steeple to be left uncapped for another Sabbath.'
John was not happy and really didn't accept any of these explanations as anything more than excuses, but he was not in the habit of being disrespectful to a priest, even an old, stubborn one.
'Very well,' replied John with frustration in his voice, 'continue.'
John held the reins of his horse and moved backward across the street for a better view. The capstone was raised over the top of the steeple and then lowered into position. John was very satisfied with the result and was happy that he had been able to be there. It truly was a magnificent steeple and added beauty to the church and glory to God.
John mounted his horse and turned to go home. He had been gone for the better part of a month and so he was anxious to be home and to check on his mother. Just as he started, he heard, 'Alderman, me Lord.'
John turned in his saddle and saw the sheriff approaching on foot. 'Aye? Whot is it then?' replied John with a little irritation in his voice. He had just ridden several days on horseback and had almost missed an occasion important to him, the capping of the steeple, he had little interest in whatever it was that the sheriff had to say.
'Gud dee, me Lord.'
'Aye, gud dee. Whot is it? I am 'eaded for 'ome.'
'Aye, me Lord, we 'ave a prisoner that we 'ave been 'olding for your arrival.'
'And is it urgent man?'
'Aye, we 'ave been 'olding him for a fortnight.'
'And whot is the charge, then?'
'Theft, me Lord.'
'Theft? Of whot?' The charge didn't seem all that pressing to John, certainly not pressing enough to deter him from proceeding home.
'Of a chicken, me Lord.'
'Of a chicken?!' replied John, in a voice dripping with contempt.
'From 'is neighbor, me Lord.'
'Well, if you 'ave 'ad 'im for a fortnight, one more night will nay 'arm 'im. I will see 'im tomorrow.' And with that John turned his horse and nudged his side.
'Me Lord?' the sheriff called after John. He was obviously surprised by the abrupt end of the conversation and didn't appreciate being dismissed so lightly.
'Tomorrow!' said John without looking over his shoulder.
John admired the fields as he rode the short distance from Stamford to his home. Many of those fields were filled with sheep and the sheep had thick wool. That wool was going to be a valuable commodity in the near future. He had already secured buyers for all the wool that he could produce in the months ahead.
The park that surrounded the estate had been expanded in the last several years and the new hedges and gardens were growing well. The expansion of the park was completed at the same time that the house was also expanded. An entire wing had been added on the south of the house. It contained a large hall that also was filled with windows to catch the rays of the suns. The vantage point of the hall present a grand view of the River Welland. Easton-on-the-hill could also be seen in the distance.
Before John crossed the mote that surrounded the house he stopped his horse and turned toward Stamford. He surveyed the towne and picked out the All Saints' church. The steeple was magnificent and from that point he could also make out the capstone cross.
A servant had seen John approaching and had summoned the other servants and when John turned to cross over the mote, they were waiting to execute his commands. One took his horse and another his cloak and sword. Another gave him a light jacket for inside the house.
John found his mother in her sitting room. A fire had been burning long enough to warm the room nicely. She was sitting near the fireplace and was doing some needlework with her back to the door when he entered. He walked up beside her chair before announcing his presence.
'Mum,' John said in a soft voice, 'I am 'ome, mum.'
Somewhat startled, she looked up at him and dropped her needlework.
'John, me boy,' she said as she reached out her hand to him. 'I am so glad that you are 'ome. It 'as been so lonely.'
John looked at her hand as he held it with his own. It looked so old, older than he had remembered. The fingers were thin and somewhat gnarled from a crippling disease. The veins on her hands were also quite prominent.
'Aye, mum. I 'ave been gone too long. I shuld nay leave you so long,' he replied. 'Boot it shuld nay be lonely with all the servants around the 'ouse.'
'It is nay the same, me boy.'
His mother picked up her needlework and laid it in her lap and rubbed her fingers. 'Me fingers do nay work as well as they once did. It gets 'arder every dee to use them.'
'It is luvly, mum,' John said referring to the needlework.
'Nay, it is nay right,' replied his mother. ''ow did your business go in Calais, then?'
'Very well indeed. I 'ave buyers for all the wool that we can produce and by the luks of the sheep, it will be plent'y.'
'Oh, you are a gud lad,' said his mother with a smile. 'Your father wuld be pleased.'
John walked to a nearby window and looked toward Stamford and said, 'They capped the steeple todee, mum. Comb and see.'
'I can nay see that far, me boy, I am sure that it is luvly.'
'I gave them express orders to nay set the capstone until me return and they were setting it just as I arrived,' exclaimed John with a louder voice. 'I was so angry with that old priest, I culd 'ave....'
'John, me boy,' interrupted his mother, 'your father did nay teach you to speak so.'
Undeterred, John continued, 'Mum, I am alderman in this towne, and I must be obeyed.'
'Well, me boy, does it nay appear that you were obeyed?'
''ow so?,' questioned John.
'Did you see the stone placed?'
'Aye.'
'Then whot 'ave you to go on aboot?'
John didn't like being talked to in this manner. Only his mother would dare such a conversation. Then to drive her point further, she said, 'Remember, me boy, your father and I did nay always live in a 'ouse like this.'
John looked around at the room. His father had often reminded him of the same. 'You are right, mum. I will be more patient.'
Thinking it best to change the subject, his mother said, 'Agnes is in towne. Per'aps you shuld pay 'er a visit.'
John walked back to the fireplace and sat in a chair near his mother. 'Agnes is a luvly girl, mum, boot I do nay believe that she wuld care to see me.'
'You shuld pay 'er a visit regardless. I do nay believe that you are so wise on the subject as you fancy yourself to be, me luv.'
'Where 'as she been this time?'
'She 'as been with 'er kinfolk in Suffolk. She was gone for two munths and returned Wednesdee last,' replied his mother.
Agnes was the only child of one of the other wealthy wool merchants in Stamford. John's father and mother had often spoken of her and the opportunity that a marriage between she and John would present. Joining the enterprises of the two families was a desire shared by John's father and Agnes's father alike. John had nothing against Agnes, but between his schooling and business affairs and her travels, they had seen little of each other in recent years.
'I will nay promise to see 'er soon,' said John. 'Boot, I will try before I leave again.'
'I 'ave accepted an invitation for both of us to a part'y at their 'ouse on Sat'urdee,' said his mother. 'So, I do dare say that you will be seeing 'er soon.'
John had stood and was walking out of the room and said as he was leaving, 'A part'y? You know 'ow much I just luv part'ies, mum.' He turned and smiled at her before he left the room and added, 'Aye, per'aps Agnes will make the part'y bearable.'
The next day, John was in Stamford before noon and sought out the sheriff as promised. Being alderman took more time than he desired, but he was glad to have authority that came with the office. Better him, he reasoned, than to trust it to others. There were two other alderman in Stamford, but the others had been away at the same time that John was away.
When he arrived at the courthouse, he had the sheriff fetch the prisoner. An alderman could decide on small cases alone; more serious cases required that all alderman be present.
'Whot is your name,' John asked the prisoner.
'Me name is Liam, me Lord,' replied the prisoner.
John could smell the prisoner even though there was ten feet between them. The prisoner also had few teeth and his clothes were not much more than rags. John covered his mouth and nose with a cloth.
'Where are you from?'
'I am from Easton-on-the-'ill, me Lord.'
'Aye, Easton-on-the-'ill. I 'ave been there.' John tried to remember the last time that he had been at Easton-on-the-hill and realized that it had been a very long time. Despite the fact that he passed near it every time that he headed south, he had never stopped. He really had no reason to stop.