The Remembered (27 page)

He thought about Elizabeth also and the pain he had felt when he gave up his search for her. This pain was different though he thought. He had lived with Margaret for so long and her lose was so sudden and shocking that it seemed to intensify the pain. He had lost Elizabeth over a period of time and though he had mourned, the pain had come on slowly, rather than suddenly. Now he mourned them both.
At the Darby estate, John was preparing to go to Stamford when he saw Ralf approaching the house. He thought that was very unusual and waited for his approach.
'Gud dee, Lord Darby.'
'Gud dee, Ralf,' John responded.
'I 'ave comb with sad news that me thought you and Lady Darby shuld know.'
'Aye, and whot is the sad news then? Did Margaret 'ave the baby? Is the baby fine?' asked John.
'Aye, Margaret 'ad the baby and 'e is a fine lad,' replied Ralf. 'Boot, Margaret did nay fair so well.' Ralf looked at the ground and seemed that he would not continue.
'Margaret? Whot 'appened?'
Ralf continued looking at the ground and said, 'She is deed, Lord Darby. There was bleeding and she is deed.'
'Oh, I am so soory. Where is Richard? 'ow is 'e?'
'Richard is still at the cot'age. The baby is with a wet nurse. I thought you shuld know.'
'I am grateful to you. God speed,' replied John.
John returned into the house and told Agnes what Ralf had told him. Agnes started to cry when she heard that Margaret had died.
'Whot will Richard do for the child? 'e can nay take care of a child,' she said.
'I do nay know, me luv.'
'You must go to Richard and see 'ow 'e is doing and offer 'elp for the child. We can 'ave the child 'ere and bring in a wet nurse,' Agnes asserted.
'Aye, I will go right away. Will you nay comb with me? I do nay know whot to say to Richard.'
'Aye, I will go with you, boot nay on a 'orse. 'ave the servants ready the coach. We may need to bring the child 'ome,' replied Agnes.
It was mid-morning when Richard heard a tap on the door and greeted John and Agnes.
John searched for the right words, but in the end only said, 'I am so soory, Richard.' That seemed enough.
Agnes stepped forward and said, 'Richard, we both feel 'orrible and so sad. We know that God will care for 'er though.'
'Aye,' said Richard. 'I am grateful to you.'
Agnes continued, 'We will 'elp with the cost of the burial and John will let you delay work on the church for a few dees.'
Richard only nodded and John agreed.
'Your fine sone needs sumeone to care for 'im until you can make other arrangements,' said Agnes. 'If you agree, we will be 'appy to 'ire a wet nurse and 'e can be at our 'ome as long as is needed.'
Richard looked up at Agnes and John with tears in his eyes. 'I 'ave nay even thought aboot the care of me sone. I do nay even 'ave a name for 'im.'
'You do nay 'ave to decide either right away,' offered John.
'Nay, 'e dose need care and I can nay give it,' Richard said. 'I wuld be grateful if 'e culd be at your 'ome until I can make other arrangements.'
'We wuld be pleased,' Agnes assured him.
Margaret was buried the next day on the grounds of the All Saints' Church. James saw to it that she was buried in a sunny spot on the south side. John helped Richard to place the dirt in the grave and Richard stayed at the graveside long after they had finished. Eventually, he went to his cottage and didn't leave the rest of the day. Geva stopped by the next day and found Richard still sitting in the cold house.
Richard looked up when she entered, but didn't say anything and put his head back on his knees.
'Richard, you 'ave nay eaten a thing, 'ave you,' she said to him after she had looked about the room and finding everything as it had been when she last saw him.
Richard didn't look up, but replied, 'I am nay 'ungry, Geva.'
'I do nay believe you. You must eat. Do you wish to join Mar...?' then she stopped herself.
Richard looked up at her. He wanted to respond that yes, he did want to join Margaret, but remained silent.
'You 'ave a fine new sone to care for, Richard. You must carry on. That is whot Margaret wuld wish.'
'Aye,' replied Richard. 'Tomorrow I will go back to the church.'
'Gud, boot you must eat sumething todee. I will send Ralf with sume food.'
Geva left the cottage, but sent Ralf back in the late afternoon with the food for Richard.
The next day, John stopped by the All Saints' Church to check on progress and to check on Richard. He and Agnes had been surprised that Richard had not come to see the baby and they were concerned. When John didn't find Richard at the church, it added to his concern. It appeared also that there had been no progress on the windows for several days. John hurried to Richard's cottage and when he didn't get a response at the door, he let himself in. He was shocked to find Richard sitting on the floor in the dark.
'Richard,' John said, but there was no movement. John walked over to Richard and shook him gently. 'Richard, are you well?' he asked.
Richard slowly raised his head. John was surprised at his appearance. He looked as though he hadn't eaten or slept in several days and facial hair was covering his normally clean face.
'Richard, you are nay well. You must eat.'
Richard looked at John with hollow eyes and didn't respond right away. When he did, he simply asked, ''ow can I go on withoot Margaret?'
'Richard, I am going to fetch Father James. 'ere, eat this bread while I am gone.' With that, John handed him some bread that Geva had sent and he left to get James at the Saint Leonard's Priory.
John returned to the cottage a couple of hours later with James. They were pleased to discover Richard sitting at the table eating some of the bread. They both sat at the table with him.
'Richard, it is gud to see you eating,' said James. 'I am certain that Margaret wuld be 'appy to see you up. I 'ope to provide encouragement to you.'
'Aye Father, boot it is so 'ard. I miss Margaret so much.'
'Of course you miss 'er,' replied James. 'You wuld nay be a man if you did nay miss 'er. You need time to mourn 'er lose.'
'I 'ave lost members of me family before and it 'urts very much,' said Richard.
'And 'ow did you get past the 'urt then?' asked James.
'It was a long time ago,' replied Richard. 'Losing Margaret 'as brought back the feelings that I 'ad then. I was yung and I suppose that I did nay allow meself time to mourn properly. I lost sumeone very dear to me then, and now I feel that 'urt as well as the 'urt of losing Margaret.'
James looked at John. He had only known Richard for a short while and didn't know who Richard was referring to. John shrugged his shoulders slightly. He had lost touch with Richard while away at school and didn't know who Richard might be referring to either.
'Richard, the living need to live,' said James. 'You will see Margaret again.'
With that, Richard looked straight at James for the first time as though to encourage him to continue. James looked nervously at John, he wasn't certain how the two men were going to react to what he was about to tell Richard. James then related to Richard the things that he had learned regarding the writings of Paul and Peter.
Richard's countenance lighten considerably as James spoke. 'I can be with me Margaret again after I dee?' he asked with enthusiasm.
'Aye,' James replied, 'I believe so, if you follow The Lord.'
'I 'ave never 'eard a priest teach soch a thing,' said Richard.
'Nor 'ave I,' John interjected.
James continued to explain the things regarding the need for a prophet, a falling away from truth and a future return to truth and authority. All of which he said that he was learning from the writings of Paul.
'Sumedee,' said James, 'I believe that God will make 'is will known and there will be a prophet to guide us in these mat'ers. There will be a way for you to be with Margaret and you, John, with Agnes.'
'Do you 'ave license to teach these things, then?' asked John.
'From the Church? Nay. Boot from the 'oly Spirit? Aye.'
Richard stood up from the table and walked to the fireplace. 'I will be with me Margaret sumedee,' he said mostly to himself. He turned back to the other two men and said, 'Praise be to God! I am so grateful to you, Father. Surely, this is God's will.'
Richard walked back to the table and continued, 'The pain of lose still 'urts, boot I can go on. I will return to work on the church tomorrow.'
After John and James were outside, John said to James, 'This is a strange thing that you teach, boot I am greatly in favor of the doctrine.'
'I believe it to be so, John,' replied James. 'I shuld nay tell others, boot I can 'ardly 'elp meself. I am so excited aboot it.'
'Well, regardless, it 'as Richard back on 'is feet.'
The next day, Richard was back at the church working on the windows again and he greeted James with a smile when James arrived.
'I 'ave enjoyed working 'ere todee, Father. I feel close to Margaret 'ere,' Richard said to James as he greeted him.
'Praise be to God,' offered James. 'And the work progresses,' he added with a smile.
At the Darby estate, Agnes and John were caring for Richard's son as their own. Richard started visiting nearly every day. He was there so often that John suggested that he live in one of the many extra rooms, but Richard politely declined. He said that he wanted to be near to Margaret.
After several days, Agnes suggested that the child needed a name.
'Whot will you call this fine lad, Richard. The boy needs a name,' said Agnes.
Richard was holding the lad at the time and John was nearby. Richard looked at John and then looked at his son. 'His name is John,' he said.
John and Agnes looked at each other and smiled. 'John is a fine name,' replied Agnes. John smiled and agreed.

1459

Stamford, England

'Lord Darby, this is a wonderful alms'ouse,' said James. 'God is pleased with your generosity.'
The first wing of the almshouse was nearing completion and John and James had been inspecting the craftsmanship. It was very good. When completed, the almshouse would have four wings, one each on the north, south, east and west, surrounding a courtyard. Each wing would have 4 separate rooms for lodging indigent elderly who had no family to care for them. With the south wing nearly completed, John was ready to consider who might benefit. There would be no shortage of candidates, but John had one person particularly in mind.
Standing now on the steps leading up to the south wing and looking at the short octagon spire, John said, 'Soon, Father, I will send for the old woman who was so generous to me in me time of need. If she is willing, I will bring 'er 'ere and see that she is cared for the remainder of 'er dees.'
'You are a gud man, John Darby,' replied James.
'God 'as been very gud to me. I only wuld 'ave liked to 'ave 'ad a sone.'
John and James turned and walked down the remainder of the steps and turned toward the All Saints' Church.
'Aye, boot you and Agnes are caring so well for Richard's sone and 'e is grateful to you.'
'Aye, boot the dee will comb that 'e will nay be so generous to share 'im with us. It will be a sad dee indeed for Agnes,' said John.
'God will yet bless you with a sone, John,' replied James.
John stopped and turned directly toward James. He felt moisture building in his eyes because he knew how much Agnes would love children. She had become very attached to the lad and the lad was very attached to her. Any separation at this point would be like an arrow in her heart and he didn't know if he could bear to see her sorrow. Now the words of this priest seemed to him as more than idle talk, the words were to him a promise from God himself.
'Bless you, Father,' replied John. 'That means so much to me.'
John and James proceeded to All Saints' and found Richard there on a ladder cleaning one of the recently placed windows. Work on the church had been completed in the last week and James was looking forward to holding a worship service there in the coming days.
'It is luvly, Richard,' said James. 'You 'ave dune beaut'iful work and it will bear witness to God for generations.'
'Aye,' agreed John.
'I am grateful for the work and that I culd take part in the re-building of this church,' replied Richard. 'This church is special in me life.'
'In mine as well,' agreed John. 'I 'ave comb 'ere all of me life and 'ave seen it nairly every dee, except when I was away at school.'
'Now that the work is dune, whot will you do, Richard?' asked James. 'Will you luk for work in another towne?'
'I do nay know. I 'ave a sone now that needs me and a life of travel is nay gud for a lad.'
James and John exchanged glances. John felt a sense of relief that Richard didn't have immediate plans to leave the area and take his son with him.
'Richard, there is plent'y of work 'ere in the wool trade,' offered John. 'I wuld be pleased if you wuld stay right 'ere in Stamford and 'elp me.'
Richard was climbing down off the ladder and stopped midway. Looking over his shoulder, he thought for a moment and then replied, 'I might like that, me Lord. You 'ave been gud to me and I am grateful.' He then continued his descent.
From the floor of the church, Richard looked up at all the windows and was pleased with what he saw. 'Will you 'old a service 'ere this Soondee then, Father?' he asked.
'Aye, I will. The Prior will be 'ere as will the priests from Easton-on-the-'ill and Barnack.'
'As will 'alf of Stamford,' offered John.
With that, the three exited the church and as they did, Richard left the company of the other two and walked over to Margaret's grave. He had managed to save a little money for a headstone during the last year and now the headstone was in place. The headstone that he had requested from the stone cutter was small and unassuming, but when he had gone to get it, he had found that a much more magnificent stone had been created. The stone cutter would not say who had made up the difference in cost, but Richard was sure that it was Lord and Lady Darby. He thought that Margaret would be pleased.
As he stood at the graveside, he was surprised when a thought of Elizabeth entered his mind and he wondered what had become of her. He thought about the many miles he had walked in search of her, but once he had determined that she could not be found, he had devoted all his energy and love to Margaret. In the early days of his marriage to Margaret, thoughts of Elizabeth had occasionally come to his mind, but he had always pushed them aside and now he did the same.
'Margaret, me luv,' Richard said out loud, 'the church is complete. Is it nay beaut'iful?' Surveying the steeple, the stonework, the gargoyles and the glass, Richard continued, 'I can nay say where the old stones meet the newly laid stones they fit so well together. And the glass will tell the story of The Lord for a thousand years, God willing.'
Richard bent over and pulled some grass away from the headstone and continued, 'I do nay know whot I will do now that the work is complete. Lord Darby 'as offered me work. I do nay know anything about the wool trade, boot I am tired of traveling from towne to towne. We 'ave a sone now also that needs a 'ome. I need a 'ome. Maybe I will go 'ome to Easton-on-the-'ill and work for Lord Darby. Lady Darby luvs the lad and 'e shuld be near 'er.'
Richard stood in silence for a time and felt as though Margaret approved.
That Sunday, the All Saints' Church was filled to capacity, with some people sitting in the isles. Lord and Lady Darby were prominently seated in a special pew constructed for them. In another ornate pew at the front were the prior of Saint Leonard's and the priests of Easton-on-the-hill and Barnack. When it came time for the sermon, James nervously rose and approached the pulpit.
'Praise be to God for this beaut'iful church and for Lord and Lady Darby who made its rebuilding possible. And we gratefully acknowledge the Prior and distinguished guests.
'I 'ave nay been a priest long and I am grateful to God for the trust that He 'as placed with me.
'As I 'ave prayed and studied to know whot God wuld 'ave me share with you this dee, it is clear to me that I must speak concerning the authority of the Church. The Church 'as grown wealthy, as was aptly described by a man called John Wycliff.'
The prior shifted nervously on the bench and glanced briefly at the two priests beside him.
James continued, 'much of this wealth 'as comb at the expense of the poor and the ignorant as the Church 'as accused them of transgression, sume falsely, and also 'as sold to them so called indulgences for absolution of their sin. I 'ave searched the scripture and there is no reference to soch practice or authority.' Then raising his voice and looking directly at the prior and the priests, he continued, 'The practice encourages sin on the part of the wealthy and breaks the back of the poor and unlearned.'
There was an audible gasp from the congregation and the Prior stood in protest, but James continued.
'This practice will surely bring upon the Church the judgments of an offended God.'
The prior and the priests had heard enough and the two priests stood with the prior and walked out briskly, but as they left many in the congregation expressed muffled agreements with Father James. After the three were out of the church, James continued his sermon by assuring the congregation of God's love for them and that no man could stand between them and the healing power of The Lord.
It seemed to Richard that the congregation would burst into applause when James finished. After the sermon, Richard remained sitting in his seat for a few minutes wondering about this new, young priest and the doctrine that he taught. 'He is a brave yung man,' he thought to himself, 'the prior will nay approve.'
Lord Darby approached the young priest after the service. 'Father James, you 'ave preached doctrine that will nay be approved by the prior and the bishop.'
'Aye, indeed that is true, Lord Darby. Boot, I must be true to the scriptures and to the message that I 'ave received from God.'
'At the peril of your life?' asked John.
'Aye, at the peril of me life.'
'And whot aboot your soul?'
'I will trust me soul to God who gave it. A church who 'as strayed as far as selling indulgences is a church withoot power or authority to save me soul regardless,' replied James.
Surprised at James' boldness, John asked 'You will challenge the authority of the Church?'
'Nay, Lord Darby, I do nay challenge the authority of the Church,' then laying his hand on the Bible next to the pulpit, he continued,'boot God's word does.'
'God's word challenges the authority of God's church?' asked John with greater surprise.
'God's word does nay challenge the authority of God's church,' replied James. 'Boot, God's church does nay exist on the earth any longer. It 'as been taken away for safe keeping. If you 'ad access to the Bible, you too wuld read soch in the words of Paul the Apostle and John the Revelator. Paul also speaks of God's church returning before The Lord combs again in the flesh.'
'And when will soch things be?' asked John.
'I do nay know. I 'ave prayed much to know, boot God does nay make soch things known to me. I suppose that it will nay be soon,' said James.
'Father James, I am shocked to hear you speak so,' replied John. 'I 'ave never 'eard of soch things.'
'You nay wuld. The Church has nay allowed the people to read or 'ave access to the Bible, God's Holy word, until recently. It 'as nay been 80 years that Wycliff translated the first Bible into English and we know 'ow the Church felt aboot 'im. And even now, few people 'ave direct access to the Bible.'
'And fewer still can read,' added John.
'Aye, and that is 'ow the Church prefers it, boot I 'ave 'eard of a new contraption in Germany that will print thousands of copies. Consider it, Lord Darby, thousands of copies. It is now only printed in the German language, boot the dee will comb that it will be printed in English as well. Can you dare imagine soch a thing? Thousands of copies of the Bible in English! No longer will the Church 'ave exclusive access to the interpretation of the word of God.'
'Father James, you 'ave given me much to consider. Will you teach again next Soondee? You know that the prior will tell the bishop soon and you will nay be safe.'
'Aye, God willing, I will preach on Soondee. Will you comb?'
'Nay, Father. I leave todee to fetch me first tenant of the alms'ouse.'
'You will miss the running of the bulls then,' said James.
'That I will indeed,' replied John in a more jovial tone. 'I 'ave provided the bulls and that is all I need do. I 'ave seen plent'y of bull runes meself and do nay care to see another one.'
'I understand. I will nay see it meself,' agreed James.
'It has also becomb too much of a carnival affair for me. There are too many strangers combing from all parts for me liking,' John observed.
'God speed to you then, Lord Darby.'
'Aye and God speed to you, Father James. I believe that you will need it more than I.'
James was glad that he had taken up residence at the house provided for the priest next to the All Saints' Church and that he did not have to go to Saint Leonard's Priory. Now that he was a priest and formally assigned to All Saints', he was no longer under the direct control of the prior. If he were, James knew that it would be very unpleasant at the priory.
As the week went on, visitors to Stamford increased significantly. Some were traveling entertainers, others had wares for sale. Still others were thieves who preferred to ply their trade among crowds of strangers.
Richard had never run with the bulls and after what had happened to Bromley, had no intention of doing so, but planned to watch the run. He was also curious about the booths and entertainers at the market. Early Saturday morning, he made his way to the plaza near the Saint Mary's church. He thought that would be an excellent place to view the bulls as they came over the bridge and entered the towne. A crowd was already gathering when he arrived, but he managed to work his way to the front. There was a chill in the air, more so than had been recently and it seemed to Richard that it might yet snow, so he pulled his cloak more tightly about himself.
Soon he could see the runners lining the sides of the bridge with sticks in hand. They were all young men, most of them James' age or younger, he thought. He also reasoned that it would not be wise for a man his age to participate in such sport.
The crowd was excited and many were calling out the names of participants that they knew. The excitement of the crowd increased in pitch at the moment the bulls were seen on the bridge. Great billows of breath streams poured from the bulls' nostrils and they pulled at the ropes that held them. Suddenly, the ropes were released and they were off, charging over the bridge, egged on all the more by the sticks of the participants. Then they were through the gates and onto the streets of the towne with the runners in pursuit. In an instant, it seemed, the thundering crowd of beast and man was nearing Richard. He felt his excitement turn briefly to fear and he stepped backward slightly, bumping into the person behind him. The tiny wooden railing that had been put in place as a barrier, no longer seemed as safe as it had moments before. And then they were gone, past Saint Mary's and around the corner to the west. Richard held his position, knowing that the bulls would pass back by him as they would be chased into the towne meadow where they would be slaughtered.
After the bulls and runners had passed, the crowed chatted uncharacteristically freely with each other while they waited for the return of the bulls.