The Remembered Page 3

  'I saw three people in the woods tonight, Mum. They did nay see me.'

  'They weren't the duke's men then?'

  'No, they wuld 'ave been on the roadway.'

  'Please be careful going through those woods at night, me luv.'

  Richard's father, who had the appearance of being asleep in a chair near the fire, now spoke for the first time since Richard entered the cottage. Without opening his eyes, he said in a half whisper, 'You will be needed in the afternoon to 'elp with the planting.'

  This is not what Richard wanted to hear. Saturday in Stamford was a market day and he was certain that he would be able to see the girl again after he completed his work at the glaziers. Richard's father however wasn't one to disagree with. Richard consented, but only half-heartedly.

  Chapter Two

  1420

  Easton-on-the-hill, England

  Lind Easton was a hardworking man. He came by farming naturally, which was a very good thing since he had a wife and a child that depended on him to eat. They meant everything to him, but still he felt the almost crushing burden of providing for their safety and well-being. His father and mother had succumbed in the past year to a plague that had passed through the Stamford area. Lind, his wife and child had been very fortunate indeed to have been spared the horrible fate that so many had suffered. It was bad enough to lose a loved one to this illness, but to watch how they suffered before they died was almost too much to bear. By the time death wrapped its spiny fingers around the afflicted person its grip was a welcomed relief to the suffering. The illness was believed to be caused by evil spirits on account of the afflicted's wickedness, but Lind wasn't certain that he believed that. After all, his father, Ian and his mother Winifred were very devoted to the Church and to their families.

  The first sign that usually accompanied the illness was aching within the head itself, followed by burning on the forehead. If that wasn't enough to torment the sufferers, the vomiting and the uncontrolled bowels that followed would cause them to beg for death. The priest had done all that he could to relieve the suffering, but it was of no avail.

  Lind was in the fields when he heard of his mother's death. Heartbroken, he rushed to her side. Kneeling at her bedside, he held her lifeless body and wept. His father lay nearby unable to render any care or assistance. Although All Saints' of Easton-on-the-hill was right across the lane, the priest had been at the upper end of the village caring for someone else and was not able to administer last rites to her. This was very disturbing to Ian and Lind. All her life, she had been devout, and now, because the priest was not available, they felt that her soul was in jeopardy. The thought of this caused Lind to weep more bitterly.

  Because of the number of the dead and dying, there wouldn't be a wake. Her body was placed in the ground later that day in a hole dug by Lind.

  Lind didn't return to the fields for several days after putting his mother into the ground. Instead, he stayed by his father's bed, knowing that Ian didn't have much longer to live. Ian had quit eating and drinking shortly prior to Winifred's death. He seemed mostly dead already, but would occasionally open his eyes, eyes that had once been bright and blue were now gray and hollow.

  Late in the afternoon of the third day that Lind was with him, Ian opened his eyes and looked at Lind. His mouth moved as though he wanted to speak, but only small whispers of air escaped his lips. Lind placed his ear close to Ian's mouth and listened intently, assuring his father that he was there.

  Ian half whispered, half mouthed the words, 'I 'ave seen 'er. Aye, I 'ave seen 'er.'

  'Who?' asked Lind intently.

  'Win...red,' whispered his father. 'She is luv..ly.' 'Luv..ly,' he whispered almost for emphasis.

  Lind squeezed gently on his father's withered hand and asked him to please rest. His father had more to say. 'She saw...Je..Je..sus.' 'She is coming.......for me.' Then a gentle, brief smile formed on his lips.

  That was the last the Ian spoke to Lind. He quit breathing shortly there after. Oddly, he hadn't asked for the priest to come one last time. Lind wondered what it meant that his father had seen his mother and that she was coming for him. And what did it mean that she had seen Jesus. Surely, he thought, this illness was not brought on by wickedness.

  Lind dug another grave next to Winifred's on the grounds of All Saints'. He hoped that someday he'd be able to afford a stone with their names engraved, but for now, a wooden marker would have to do.

  The death of his father and mother meant that Lind could move his family into his father's cottage. The cottage was nicer than the small quarters that they had been living in just outside the village and the cottage was closer to the village and to the church. It also meant that Lind's wife, Gleda, no longer had to carry water from the stream. She could easily visit the village well instead. This was a wonderful thing for her as it meant that she no longer had to carry water so far. Lind and Gleda waited until the illness was gone from the towne before they moved into the cottage.

  The illness had been such a sever blow to the village that nearly every family had been affected in some way. Most had lost a family member. Lind didn't like to think about it, but the plague had also been a good thing for his family. They now had a cottage of their own far sooner than they might have otherwise. The farm was entirely his. Without the plague, he would have been required to find his own land to farm. That wouldn't be easy since most of the land was already leased from Saint Leonard's Priory or from Lord Burghley. After the plague there was ample land to lease and at a better price. The devastation of the plague though was horrible to watch as families were removed from the land when their husbands and fathers died and the lease could no longer be paid. Such poor creatures were turned off the land that they had been on for generations and were left to beg or to make do as best they could. So, despite the bitterness of losing his father and his mother, Lind's situation had improved greatly on account of the plague. These mixed feelings did cause him to feel ashamed before God.

  Lind and Gleda had been married now for five years. They had one child, a boy that they called Bromley and now Gleda was with child again. The prospect of the added responsibility of feeding and clothing another human being weighed heavily on Lind. He had always been a jovial sort, but with the plague and the loss of his parents and now the prospect of an addition to the family, his shoulders were already starting to slump a little and his temples had a hint of gray. Gleda on the other hand was joyous at the news of the new baby.

  On the day that they finally were able to move into the cottage the priest from All Saints' paid them a visit. This wasn't to be a social call however, he was on business. He had brought with him a bundle and placed it in Gleda's arms.

  'Gud dee to you, Father', greeted Gleda. 'Whot's this then?'

  Father Patrick kicked the dirt at his feet and shifted his weight as though he had something to say that he just couldn't bring himself to say. ' 'is name is Richard,' he managed.

  'Aye, I do nay care whot 'is name is,' offered Lind, 'whot is 'e doing 'ere?'

  'Truth is that 'is mother deed and 'is father can nay care for 'im, so 'e left 'im with me. I need to find 'im a 'ome.'

  'You can nay leave 'im 'ere,' protested Lind, 'Can you nay see that I 'ave enuf mouths to feed already?'

  'Aye, boot 'e is lit'le and with Gleda's wee one combin' soon, she will 'ave plen'hy of milk for two wee ones. Surely, this is God's will.'

  'I do nay know anythin' aboot God's will. Was it God's will that 'is mother deed?' stated Lind.

  Gleda, who had already peered into the eyes of the infant, felt that it indeed was God's will. 'Lind,' she said quietly, 'Surely it is God's will. Luk at 'im. 'e will nay be a burden. 'e will nay even eat for sevrul munths. We shall 'ave a crop by then. Do you feel it, Lind?'

  Lind knew that he was not going to be successful with any protestations, so he decided to look for the first time into the eyes of the child. As he did, his heart softened and he too felt that it was God's will.

 
; 'God bless this 'ouse,' said Father Patrick as he left through the gate. He seemed much lighter on his feet and his countenance was lifted.

  Gleda and Lind took Richard into their family and cared for him as their own. Gleda's milk began to flow and Richard began to thrive. Bromley loved the prospect of having a little brother. Within a fortnight Gleda lost her waters. Lind was in the fields planting.

  'Bromley!' cried Gleda. 'Ruun and fetch me midwife, Mrs. Reilly. 'urry lad.' Bromley ran as fast as he could up Church Street, past the Bake House to High Street. There he found Mrs. Reilly at the Swan Inn. Lind was already in from the fields when Mrs. Reilly arrived at the cottage. 'You must wait outseed,' she instructed Lind as she went in to see Gleda.

  Gleda was already pushing hard and crying out in pain. Lind took Richard in his arms and Bromley by the hand and went across the lane to the church to pray. Mrs. Reilly went about her work with the efficiency that her years of experience had given her.

  'You must nay push, me luv, it is too airly.' But, the pushing had already been done and Mrs. Reilly could see the top of a little head.

  It seemed like hours, but soon Mrs. Reilly was at the church and called them home. 'Comb and see your girl,' she said to Lind. 'Comb and see your sister,' she invited Bromley.

  Lind put aside the cares of the world for a moment as he gave thanks in his heart for the care of God on his family.

  Gleda was weak, but had done well. She would recover and wee Richard was placed at her side along with a new little girl. Gleda smiled with contentment, almost as though she had already forgotten her travail.

  Chapter Three

  1428 – 1432

  Easton-on-the-hill

  The future looked bright for Lind and Gleda. Lind worked hard in the fields and Gleda was able to raise chickens and hogs in the yard. On account of the death of its owner, the priest had been given an ox after the illness had moved through Easton-on-the-hill, The priest was so grateful to the Eastons for taking in Richard that he gave the ox to Lind. The ox was a great blessing to the family because now Lind was able to plow much more land, and because rents on land were depressed, Lind was able to secure more land to farm. Gleda felt that they were being blessed by God for taking Richard into their family. Lind accepted that maybe it was God's will after all.

  Bromley was old enough to work in the fields with his father and did so every day. Being the oldest son, he was rightful heir to the farm and the cottage. Farming seemed to be in his blood.

  Richard was too young to care about farming or much of anything else except exploring in the fields and woods. He loved to go with his father so that he could play. His sister, Geva, usually stayed at home with her mother.

  Richard especially loved to play in the ruins of the old Roman walls that stood outside Stamford close to his father's fields. He loved to wield a stick as his sword and a larger stick for his horse. He defeated many enemies in that fashion.

  His companion in these adventures was a boy near his age that he had met at the ruins. The boy's name was John Darby. John was the son of John Darby, a land owner and a merchant. The ruins were technically on John Darby's land. As a member of the Company of the Merchants, he enjoyed complete control of the exporting of wool in and around the area of Stamford. Sometimes he was referred to as a Merchant of the Staple of Calais. Calais, France was conquered by the English in the year 1347 and since that time it enjoyed the stature of being the principle location for wool imports onto the continent. John Darby, the father of John, was one of twenty-six traders and as such he enjoyed prestige and wealth. He was an Alderman of Stamford as well.

  'The Sco'ish are combing,' shouted Richard to John. 'There, just over the 'ill. 'urry, let us get into the castle.'

  The two boys scurried into the protection of the ruins and fought off the imaginary invaders with skill and precision. Richard had suffered a sever wound to his leg in the process, but that was miraculously healed when John announced that the queen was nearing the castle walls.

  The two boys could play for hours together and often did. 'We will be great knights sume dee, will we nay.' John exclaimed to Richard. 'Aye!' Of course, Richard agreed.

  1432

  The years had passed pleasantly for the Eastons. The weather had been mild and harvests had been good. The ox had died, but Lind was successful enough that he was able to purchase a younger ox and a cow.

  England's long war with France continued, but there was relative calm around Stamford. The war with France had taken a sudden turn for England with the capture and the execution of Joan of Arc on May 30, 1431. It had taken a few weeks for news of her execution to reach Stamford, but when it did, there were great rejoicings. To the English, she was a convicted heretic, but to her countryman, she was the greatest of heros and they always fought with great energy when she rallied them. An English knight passing through Stamford had shared tales of her cunning and strategy. 'She 'eard voices telling 'er whot to do,' he had told them, assuring them that he knew she was a witch. 'If she was nay a witch, God would 'ave saved 'er,' he exclaimed to the large crowd at the public house. For this news and for his bravery, much ale was purchased for him. 'Aye, I saw 'er burned at the stake meself,' he proudly proclaimed. He then related that she was so important to the cause of the French that the English had burned her body thrice to ensure that no one could steal any of it for use as a religious relic. 'Boot, luk 'ere,' said he, 'I 'ave the cross that she cast 'er eyes upon just before she deed.' With that he produced a large brass cross out of a bag that he carried. 'Whot will you give me for it?' His price was too high and since he was traveling north toward Lincoln, he was sure that he would get a great sum for it at the cathedral.

  Richard and John wished that they could have been to the burning. They imagined what it must have been like to watch the wood be set ablaze and wondered whether it would smell. 'sume dee we too will fight the 'orrible French,' they proclaimed. Richard and John remained close friends, despite their vastly different stations in life.

  Religious piety was always an important part of life in Stamford, as evidenced by the several churches that occupied this market towne. However, despite its importance economically, Stamford still did not have a cathedral. John's father and others hoped that they could influence the Bishop of Lincoln that a truly magnificent edifice in the praise of God should be erected in Stamford.

  Most everyone in the village of Easton-on-the-hill and in the towne of Stamford attended religious services on Sunday. Richard preferred to attend with John and often did. He couldn't understand any of the Latin and found the entire experience beyond interest or comprehension. John knew some Latin and occasionally explained some of the ritual to Richard, but mostly they just whispered to each other. Their interest lately was mostly regarding the girls that were in attendance.

  John's ancestors had been instrumental in enlarging the All Saints' church in Stamford. It wasn't the largest church in towne, Saint Mary's had that distinction, and it didn't have a steeple, but Richard thought it was a wonderful church. It was the oldest church in all of Stamford, having been first mentioned in the Domesday survey that William the Conqueror had commissioned in 1086.

  Richard never had an affinity for farming, but it was in the All Saints' church that the realization solidified within him that he really never would be a farmer. On this particular Sunday, Richard and John were whispering to each other, when suddenly, as the priest spoke he pointed to the west window, Richard looked and was awaken for the first time at the beauty of the glass of the church. The light bursting through the glass brought out the colors and seemed to come from the presence of God. Something in that moment spoke to his heart and he yearned to express his love of God through glass. He knew that he had to do that. He didn't even know what trade it was that did such marvelous work, but he knew that he wanted to do the same. The glaziers who had crafted the windows were true artisans. The great west window held the images of many biblical people, including prophets and The Lord Himself. The color
ed glass made the images come alive and suddenly the stories started to touch his soul.

  'John, luk at the window. I want to make a magnificent window sumdee.'

  'Aye, it is a luvly window,' replied John, 'boot you are going to be a farmer, like your father.'

  'No. I do nay care for farming at all.'

  ''ow are you going to be soch a skilled craftsman? A craftsman must 'ave an apprenticeship. Your father would never agree and 'e does nay 'ave muney,' whispered John.

  'I will find a way,' promised Richard.

  John's father and mother were by that time giving them looks that told them that they had better quit whispering.

  After the service, Richard departed from John's company and decided to walk past Saint Michael's on High Street, then past Saint George's and Saint Mary's. As he passed by each edifice he studied the glass work from the outside. The colors were darker and the windows were not so compelling as his experience in All Saints'. Then he realized that the effect he had witnessed was the light pouring through the glass. It was the light that gave the life to the glass. Richard thought on this again and again as he walked over the River Welland on the Stamford Bridge and on past Saint Martin's. The light, he realized, was like the power of God, giving the window its life. That light and that power could only be witnessed from inside the church. God was in the church. For the first time in his twelve years Richard began to understand the power that came from worshiping together.