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Authors: Beverley Elphick

BOOK: Three Round Towers
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Chapter Twenty-One

White Gooseberry or Champagne Wine

Take cold soft water, four and a half gallons,

White gooseberries, five gallons.

Ferment. Now mix refined sugar, six pounds, honey, four pounds, white tartare, in fine powder, one oz. Put in orange and lemon peel, one oz dry or two ounces fresh and add white brandy, half a gallon. This will make nine gallons.

MacKenzie's Five Thousand Receipts in All the Useful and Domestic Arts

The days shortened into winter and I waited. I waited for release from the accusations that hung over me. I had no idea whether I was on the edge of freedom or the drop of the gallows or perhaps even transportation to the colonies. I spent as much time as I was able with Beth at South Farm where the Elwoods had continued with Mary-Jane's employment. She seemed to blossom in their kitchen; her own little tacker looked a lot cleaner and healthier too. She undertook much of the heavier work as well as feeding Beth. Cecilia had thrown off her weakness as if it were a cloak. She was cheerful and full of pleasure in having Beth in her household. I think, knowing that I was not Beth's natural mother, made it easier for her to take on her care when I was in Lewes. I will admit to feeling a little jealous but put such thoughts aside as mean-spirited, but it caused my heart to ache no matter what my head said.

My time at Mrs Makepiece's house also became easier. The townsfolk were not treating me as if I were a murderess. No one was overly friendly but neither did they cross the street when I walked by. I know I owed this to Becca's pa who took every opportunity to accompany me about town on any little errands I was undertaking. Not long after my release from the town tower, a gang of boys had followed me – taunting and throwing stones and I had hurried back to Keere Street greatly upset and bruised where the stones had hit me. After that terrifying experience, I found I always had company when I had to go about. Mrs Makepiece, Becca's pa and young Billy-alone all took turns to keep me company. Even Miss Wardle seemed to regard me as a personal friend despite my not being a pig or chicken.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Cowslip White Wine

Take of cold soft water, eighteen gallons Malaga raisins,

thirty-five pounds,

White tartar, in fine powder, two ounces.

Ferment: Mix cowslip-flowers, sixteen pounds, Add white brandy one gallon, This will make eighteen gallons.

MacKenzie's Five Thousand Receipts in All the Useful and Domestic Arts

Winter came early that year and there was much unrest with the price of basic foodstuffs and poor quality bread. The mood in the alehouses was mutinous with some shopkeepers boycotted for their light loaves and adulterated meal.

Bad weather came before Christmas and with it harsh biting winds that lifted the lying snow from one field to another. Many beasts died for want of feeding and I know Farmer Elwood was worried. His farm was larger than most and he was fortunate enough to be able to bring the sheep into calmer pastures where the shepherds could tend them without being frozen to the iron-hard ground.

I loved going to the farm, I learned so much about the cycles of growth and husbandry of the animals. I tried to help wherever I could and I think that my preserving and bottling added to the family table and store cupboards. My mother never let anything go to waste and I was able to teach Mrs Fisher a thing or two. She never quite thawed to me but I don't think she actively tried to put me down any more. I don't know what brought about her change of attitude; perhaps it was seeing so many good people defending me, including her mistress who she held in high esteem.

But I get in front of myself. I went to visit Billy-alone in his new home in November and what a cosy place it was. Miss Wardle had asked a jobbing carpenter to make a raised platform that was to serve as his bed. It was built down the length of one wall and was so long it quite dwarfed Billy. When I laughed at this great structure she pointed out that Billy wasn't done growing by any means and she was planning for the future. She was such a practical person and had thought about the draughts from the stable door and had nailed heavy pigskin pieces to drop over the open window and the bottom of the wooden door. The window could be strung open in the good weather but provided protection against the worst of weathers. Billy had cast good fresh reeds on the floor to keep the room clean and warm. He had no shoes so it was more comfortable to stand on grasses rather than cold stone. There was a bowl and pitcher for water at the side of his bed that didn't look as if it had been used recently so I deduced he was still averse to washing any more than was necessary. I did, however, suggest that he use the washing facilities when he came to the farm, particularly, if he wanted to impress young Cilla. He must have thought I was speaking sensibly because he looked a great deal cleaner after that conversation.

I was introduced to Sally the favourite pig and I thought her a lovely great creature. I tickled her back with a stiff brush that Billy kept especially for that purpose. She squirmed against my legs and nearly knocked me off my feet. I couldn't help thinking that she was a great deal cleaner than many of the men and women I saw about town – and fatter. I don't think Sally went short of food. There were a host of chickens scrabbling round underfoot and they too looked well fed and contented. I whispered to Billy that it must be good living at Miss Wardle's.

‘Aye,' he said. ‘She's a good sort, in a bad-tempered way. Mind you, I steers well clear of the owld man at the poor house – he don't take kindly to me change in fortune. I found him a new lad, someone who can defend hisself and if all else fails can run fast. He should be grateful.'

I laughed at the faces he pulled as he said this.

‘Billy, have you heard any more about my case with the constable? I don't know what to think, whether to be happy that I have been left alone or whether this is the calm before the storm. I spend so much time in anxiety that my low spirits might overwhelm me.'

‘No, I ain't 'eard nuffink. I can ask Pot, if you like?'

‘I'd be obliged Billy. I would wish to have an idea if I am to be formally charged. At the moment I try to see every day as a bonus but, in truth, it is a hard position to maintain.'

Chapter Twenty-Three

The Bonfire Prayer

Remember, remember the Fifth of November

The Gunpowder, Treason and Plot

I see no reason why Gunpowder Treason

Should ever be forgot

Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes,

'twas his intent

To blow up the King and the Parliament

Three score barrels of powder below,

Poor old England to overthrow;

By God's providence he was catch'd

With a dark lantern and burning match.

Holloa boys, holloa boys make the bells ring.

Holloa boys, holloa boys, God Save the King

Traditional prayer still used by all the Lewes Bonfire Societies

And:

A penny loaf to feed old Pope,

A farthing cheese to choke him

A pint of beer to rinse it down,

A faggot of sticks to burn him

Burn him a tub of tar, burn him like a blazing star,

Burn his body from his head,

Then we'll know old Pope is dead.

Traditional and referring to papal plot to kill King of England. Cliffe Bonfire Society of Lewes still carries ‘No Popery' banner

The very next day was the Lewes celebration of Fawkes' night and I saw Pot myself.

He told me that everything ‘was gone quiet' and perhaps it would all blow over. I couldn't quite believe that but I tried to take some comfort.

Mrs Makepiece, Billy, and I all went up into the town to see the burning of Guy Fawkes while Miss Wardle stayed at home to guard the animals. I didn't quite understand that at first but all became clear later. It was a dark crisp night and we wrapped up warm, and even before we got up into the town I could smell wood smoke. I was amazed to see a huge structure of faggots and tar barrels at the top of School Hill. The towering unlit bonfire stretched some seventeen feet and was protected by a rowdy and threatening crowd. Mrs Makepiece told me that the previous year the Justices had been roughly used and there had been a riot. This year, the law must have decided they had met their match in this patriotic revel and stood at the dark margins, though I noticed they were armed with staves and even blunderbusses. I was more than a little frightened by this heaving mob of humanity and my fear increased as I saw a large group of masked men forcing their way towards the bonfire. The leader carried a lantern in one hand, a lighted taper in the other and a bundle of shavings slung across his shoulders. The throng behind him all carried kindling torches and were lustily singing the kings anthem. As the bonfire was lit everyone around me took up the refrain and my fear disappeared as we all roared our approval and joined in the singing and chanting. We all marched down the hill toward the river; my lipsy leg didn't slow me up as I was fair carried along in the general surge and Mrs Makepiece was gripping my arm for all she was worth. When we got to the bottom of the hill and near the river we came to a standstill in the press of folk. I couldn't see what was happening but I felt part of it as I was forced into a wall with Mrs Makepiece alongside of me. Billy and Pot were in the thick of it and told me later that tar barrels were thrown into the river, with a few people too. The bonfire boys had been met at the centre of the bridge by a crowd from Cliffe. We were stuck there for quite some time as the singing and shouting got louder and more general, though every now and again a bonfire anthem struck up and the voices merged into something that sounded quite musical and heartfelt. Eventually, we managed to get out of our safe spot and made our way back up the street before we were again engulfed by revellers. We managed to dodge the squibbers and those throwing fireballs around and made our way towards the top of the town again.

The fire on School Hill had burned ferociously and one building had been scorched but no one in the crowd seemed to care. The power of the night was in the revellers and it would have taken an army to disperse so many people drunk on enthusiasm, as well as brandy and gin. I couldn't help thinking that the Justices must quake at this show of strength from the population and would do as much as they could to prevent it. I was assured by Mrs Makepiece that Lewes was a bonfire town and for one night a year the people ruled and woe betide anyone who got in their way. It was all very exciting and if I had been a man, I would have wanted to be in that group of firelighters though I didn't like the squibbers much.

The next day Billy and Mrs Makepiece both told me a bit about the revelry. It seemed that the Guy Fawkes' celebration was just a part of it and that the putting to death, by fire, of seventeen good protestant people on the very same spot where last night's bonfire was built was of equal importance. The martyrdom of these local men and women at the hand of Bloody Mary had become an important part of a celebration against the ruling class. Lewes, according to Mrs Makepiece was a hotbed of dissenters who on that one special night celebrated martyrdom and revolution with fervour. Mrs Makepiece called it letting go and where was the harm in that? She also said that the Trade were heavily involved in the night's events, and one group carried ‘No Popery' banners which referred to a papist plot to the King's life, which was another reason why the Justices were unhappy at their loss of control of an entire town and many of the surrounding villages and hamlets.

I wasn't able to judge whether it was just as she said or an altogether more sinister show of force for its own sake with the reasoning blurred by history. Whatever it was, I had felt greatly excited by the press and power of the people.

Chapter Twenty-Four

I was summoned again to the coroner's office and once again Farmer Elwood accompanied me. We were shown into a different room and as well as the coroner there were a number of official looking people who had a very serious look about them. I sensed it was not good news for me and I felt my knees give way as I stumbled toward the bench they indicated. Farmer Elwood stood at my side and when I was requested to stand he held my elbow tightly at once supporting and comforting me.

I am afraid I don't recall the exact words that were used to charge me with murder.

I do remember that there was no mention of kidnap. I remember that there were angry voices spilling all around me and that I was allowed to sit through it all once the pronouncement had been made.

I was taken by the constable to a cell and was very distressed to be sick in front of this man who clearly believed that I was indeed a murderess. The next thing I remember is the gentle ministration of the coroner wearing his physician's hat. He had some burning herb held under my nose that brought me back into the present with a jolt.

Farmer Elwood was red-faced and angry by my side. He turned on the constable and demanded that he leave me to the doctor's care pointing out that I was in no fit state to attempt escape. The man spat on the floor in disgust and grumbled his way round the room before leaving – making a great show of locking us all in.

The nausea overwhelmed me as I quaked and quivered in a state of fear, and bubbling anger that anyone could think I would do such a wicked thing. I was unable to speak at all but I knew my innocence and it was agony not to be able to make others see it. I was robbed of my voice though it continued in my head. In due course the uproar surrounding me abated and I was left alone in the cold bare cell though not before Farmer Elwood put his arm around me. ‘Don't fret Esther, we will resolve this monstrosity of injustice.' I huddled into a corner and shivered uncontrollably. I had not taken in details of the charge and what would happen next but I felt exhausted and without hope despite my friends goodwill.

I passed a fretful night and woke to a bleak cold light coming through a grill high on the wall, too high for me to see out of even if I climbed on the bucket set in the corner. I had to suffer the indignity of my bodily functions in full view of the guards who constantly passed by and looked in. I was given some cold meal for breakfast but it turned my stomach and I was unable to eat it. I asked the surly guard for some fresh water or small ale but received none.

Farmer Elwood returned that morning. He explained gently that he and other townsfolk had undertaken to seek my release and that it might take a few days and I must be patient and trust in the goodness of people. I wept. How could I trust in the goodness of folk when I was so unjustly accused by wicked people who were believed before me? Did it not show that power was in the hands of those who were strong rather than right? Who would take my part against such a powerful family? I poured this out to Farmer Elwood bitterly.

‘Esther, they are not powerful, they are just a family the same as many others. We just have to present your case and evidence and justice will be done,' he said.

‘You must believe in yourself and bring forward your spirit to fight this. You must not succumb to fear for it will act against you and give your opponents a victory that they should not be allowed to have. Fight, Esther. Fight for Beth. Fight for your good friend Becca who died for her baby. Fight.'

Once again, I was alone and I tried to pull my thoughts together in a rational manner.

Every time I found a positive thought, few though they were, the fear, the hurt swamped over me and I was thrown back again into a quivering and weepy state. I know Billy-alone came to see me but he was not allowed in. I heard him calling from the street.

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