The Remembered

Chapter Fifteen

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.

'Do the Easton's still live there?' John asked.

'No longer, me Lord. Lind and Gleda are deed.'

''ow so,' asked John.

'Lind of an accident and Gleda of fever. Both deed several years ago, me Lord.'

'Terrible thing, that business with their older sone,' John said and for a moment he forgot the business at hand and instead thought about the tragic death of Bromley. 'Whot was 'is name again?'

'Bromley, me Lord,' replied the prisoner.

'Aye, Bromley. Terrible thing that. And whot was the other sone's name? Oh aye, it was nay Richard?' asked John.

'Aye, me Lord.'

'And is Richard nay living in Easton-on-the-'ill then?' asked John.

'Nay, 'e 'as nay been seen 'ere for many years, me Lord.'

''e married Bromley's widow, did 'e nay?' asked John.

'Aye, 'e did, me Lord.'

'And is there no Easton's living at Easton-on-the-'ill then?' asked John in surprise.

'Only the yungest. A daught'er and 'er 'usband.'

Those days seemed so long ago to John and a world away, almost as if they didn't occur. John had been away at the time of Bromley's death and he hadn't seen Richard since they were boys. 'I do nay believe that I wuld know Richard if I saw 'im,' he thought to himself.

The prisoner coughed and it brought John's thoughts back to the matters at hand.

'Do you know why you are 'ere?' asked John.

'Aye, me Lord. They said that I stole a chicken.'

'And did you steal a chicken?'

'Nay, me Lord. I borrowed a chicken. Me family was 'ungry.'

'You 'borrowed' a chicken?' asked John incredulously. 'And did you return a chicken?'

'Nay, me Lord, boot I will,' promised the prisoner. 'Please, me Lord, I 'ave been in prison for bet'er than a fortnight. Me family is 'ungry and can nay eat withoot me. I 'ave lit'le ones at 'ome.'

'The king can nay abide thievery in 'is realm,' John stated plainly as he slapped his hand on the table for emphasis. 'I am the king's servant and am sworn to enforce the law. You shuld 'ave thought of that before you stole the chicken.'

'Please, me Lord, 'ave mercy. If nay on me, on me lit'le ones,' pled the prisoner.

'And if I were to show mercy to you, whot wuld the next thief expect?' exclaimed John in a strong voice. 'I sentence you to another fortnight in prison and if at that time, your family 'as nay repaid the price of the chicken, you will spend another fortnight and so forth until the debt is paid. And you shuld consider that merciful.'

John motioned to the court clerk and said, 'Away with 'im.'

As the prisoner was led away, he continued to implore for his freedom. 'I beg you, me Lord. I wuld be bet'er able to pay the debt if I were nay in prison.'

John ignored his pleas and gathered his cloak to leave the courthouse. He quickly left the building and as he walked down the steps, he nearly ran into a well dressed woman.

'I beg your pardon, me lady,' said John as he bowed his head and carefully stepped aside to give way for the lady and her female companion.

'Lord Darby, is that you?'

John looked up and smiled in recognition. 'Agnes, aye, it is me,' he said as he offered his hand. Agnes took his hand and John squeezed it gently. 'She is truly beaut'iful,' thought John.

Agnes wore a light blue dress that wrapped close to her torso and was gathered at the waist. Her waist was adorned by a metal belt that hung loosely in the front. From her waist the skirt of the dress flared out in folds and flowed freely to the ground. A light breeze caused the skirt to flutter gently. A gold colored cloak draped her shoulders and mid-torso. John's thoughts were interrupted by Agnes and he blushed at the realization that he was staring at her.

'And when did you return to Stamford?' asked Agnes 'I 'eard that you were in Calais.'

'I returned yesterdee. I 'eard that you returned Wednesdee last. And 'ow was Suffolk?' asked John.

'Suffolk was very pleasant indeed,' replied Agnes with a smile. 'Boot, so much time with me cousins and aunt does becomb difficult to bear.'

'And were there no gent'lemen in Suffolk?' asked John with sly smile and just a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

'Indeed,' replied Agnes. 'Suffolk 'as many fine gent'lemen.' She smiled to think that John was a little jealous. 'Me mum is 'aving a part'y on Sat'urdee. I trust that you will comb with your mum.'

'Aye, I will be there, me lady,' replied John.

Agnes smiled and offered her hand to John. He accepted her hand and bowed his head slightly. 'Gud dee, me lady,' he said. 'Until Sat'urdee then.'

'Indeed, until Sat'urdee,' replied Agnes, allowing him to continue to hold her hand. She then lowered her head and gently bent her knees slightly. She and her friend then continued down the street. John watched them until they turned a corner.

On Saturday afternoon, John escorted his mother to the home of Agnes' father. There were already several people there and John saw that Agnes was speaking with another gentlemen. Agnes was wearing her hair drawn back on the sides and up in the back, with some locks that fell around her shoulders. Her hair was parted in the front and a ringlet draped either side of her face. A band of tiny white flowers ran across her head at the point where the hair that was parted in the front met the hair that was pulled up in the back. Other small white flowers also adorned her hair as jewels. She wore a long white dress that had golden embroidered accents around the neck, just above the elbows and at the end of the elegant sleeves. The sleeves fanned out in full fashion from the golden accent above the elbows to nearly the full length of the skirt. John could scarcely take his eyes off her.

John saw that Agnes did indeed notice him upon his arrival, but she continued speaking with the gentlemen that seemed intent on keeping her attention.

'Welcome to me 'ome Lady Darby and me Lord Darby.' John turned to see Agnes' father standing nearby. John had nearly lost track of his surroundings so intent was his study of Agnes.

'Lord Whitcomb,' responded John as he offered his hand.

'You 'ave been gone too long, me Lord, I am sure that your business in Calais was successful,' said Agnes' father. He took John's mother by the arm and led her to a nearby chair as they continued speaking.

'Aye, sir, boot it is gud to be 'ome again,' replied John. 'I see that Agnes is well.'

'Aye, she is well enuf sir, and she 'as much interest from the gent'lemen.'

'Aye, so I see,' observed John. 'And who is that she is speaking with at present?'

''e is Edmund and is comb from Suffolk.'

'All the way from Suffolk then?' questioned John in surprise. 'I presume that 'e is 'ere to see Agnes?'

'Indeed 'e is sir,' said Agnes' father in a tone and with a look at John that seemed to underscore his earlier comment about the multiplicity of gentlemen that vied for the attention of Agnes.

'And is Agnes committed to any of these gent'lemen?' asked John.

'Nay,' responded Lord Whitcomb, 'boot if a yung man is interested, 'e wuld do well to make 'is intentions known.'

'Aye, so 'e wuld,' responded John.

At that moment someone interrupted their conversation and Agnes' father was called away.

'Me boy,' said John's mother, 'do nay disappoint your father. You know that you luv 'er. Do nay let another gent'leman commit 'er.'

'Aye, mum,' was all that John replied.

His conversation opportunities with Agnes were short the rest of the evening. The gentleman from Suffolk stayed so close to her side that to interrupt would have almost been an affront to him, which John saw no reason for pursuing since he had learned that the gentleman's stay in Stamford would end the following day.

As they were leaving for the evening, John was able to have a brief conversation with Agnes.

'You luk very luvly,' John said to Agnes. She was obviously pleased and seemed to blush a little.

'You are too kind, me Lord,' she replied. 'Are you gone so soon?'

'Aye, I must get me mum 'ome.'

'I wuld 'ave so much liked to 'ave spent more time with you, boot you are gone so soon,' said Agnes.

'I believe that you were occupied most of the evening.'

'Aye, I suppose that I was,' said Agnes without offering much more encouragement.

'Until we meet again, then?' replied John.

'Aye, God's speed to you and your mum,' said Agnes.

John's servants had brought the coach to the front of the house and were waiting with the door open. John led his mother down the steps of the house and helped her into the carriage, stepping in after her. As he did, he looked out the window and saw Agnes still standing at the step. She smiled and offered a little wave of her hand. John returned the wave with a slight hand gesture and a smile and ordered the coach on.

Early the next day John rode to the Whitcomb estate to see Agnes, knowing full well that Edmund would still be there. He was greeted by a servant and ushered through the great entry hall into an adjoining room and invited to sit while Agnes was summoned. John preferred standing and he explored the room while he waited. He noted the marble sculptures that had likely been sent from Italy and several large paintings from France. He also noted that the tightly woven rug which he was standing on was likely shipped from Persia. 'Indeed, the wool trade 'as been gud to Agnes' family,' he thought.

Soon Agnes walked into the room and greeted John, offering her hand to him. ''ello, Lord Darby.'

'Gud dee, me lady,' replied John with a smile as he accepted her hand. 'You luk luvly.'

'I wuld nay 'ave expected you so airly on this fine dee,' Agnes said with a warm smile.

'Me lady, it is soch a fine dee, I decided to go riding and thought to ask you to comb along.'

'Aye, Lord Darby. I can nay accept your offer as you know that Edmund is still 'ere.'

'I do nay see Edmund, me lady,' replied John with some sarcasm in his voice as he looked about the room. 'And where might 'e be then?'

''e is oot with me father riding at present,' replied Agnes with a sly smile, obviously picking up on his sarcasm.

'Then 'e wuld nay mind if you were to go riding also, wuld 'e?' observed John.

''e is expected back soon and it wuld be rude of me to be away upon 'is return. Wuld you nay agree?'

'Is 'e nay riding with your father? Wuld that nay make 'im your father's guest?'

''e is me guest as well, me Lord.'

'I wuld nay think that one so old as Edmund wuld be your guest, me lady.'

Agnes acted as though she was perturbed, but she was clearly enjoying the attention and the fact that John was so persistent.

'Comb back lat'er, me Lord, and I will go riding with you.'

'Is that a promise, me lady?'

'Aye, it is a promise,' Agnes replied with a smile.

'Aye, and whot aboot Edmund?'

''e will be gone by then. I am certain of it.'

'And if 'e is nay gone?' asked John.

'I do nay know.'

'I do know. I will show 'im to 'is coach,' replied John with a sly smile.

Agnes blushed and looked at the floor. The thought of John vying so directly for her attentions pleased her.

John took Agnes' hand in his and smiled, 'Until then, me lady.' Then he smiled and turned to leave the room. As he walked into the entry hall, Edmund entered from a adjacent hallway. He had just returned from riding and still was wearing his riding clothing.

John observed him narrowly, but was not going to acknowledge him.

'Lord Darby,' started Agnes, 'This is Edmond of Suffolk. I do nay believe that you 'ave met.'

John turned and walked toward Edmund who was holding out his hand expectedly. John looked at his hand momentarily before accepting the offered greeting.

'Gud dee, Lord Darby. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.'

'Aye, likewise,' replied John with a forced smile. 'I 'ope that you are enjoying your visit with Lord Whitcomb.'

Edmund glanced at Agnes who only smiled ever so slightly and then turned her look to John.

'Aye, I 'ave enjoyed me visit with all of the Whitcomb's, me Lord.'

'The dee is a fine dee for your travels back to Suffolk. I trust that you will find the roads pleasant,' stated John with a glance outside.

'Aye, and so I shall,' replied Edmund.

With that, John walked toward the door and as he opened it stated, 'Shall I send some men to accompany you to Suffolk?'

'That will nay be necessary, me Lord,' replied Edmund in a voice that betrayed his growing irritation.

John bowed his head slightly in Agnes' direction, opened the door and said, 'Until later, me lady.'

Later that day John returned and went riding with Agnes. She was a well trained rider and was very comfortable atop a horse. She wore a long, light-purple dress and small hat of matching color. As they galloped through the fields, her dress caught the breeze and John was fascinated at her loveliness and her skill. They rode to Little Casterton and then to Great Casterton where they stopped for a meal at a public house.

As they rode slowly back toward the Whitcomb estate, Agnes said, 'You did nay need be so rude to Edmund, me Lord.'

'Aye, I suppose that I did treat 'im with sume contempt. There is no excuse for me actions, me lady.'

They rode in silence for a few moments before John asked, 'Is there an agreement then between Edmund and yourself then?'

Agnes looked at John with a surprised expression and stated plainly, 'There is nay any agreement between Edmund and meself. If there were, I wuld nay be riding with you now, me Lord.'

John smile and looked at Agnes. He already knew that Agnes would not have accepted his offer to go riding if there were an agreement, but he enjoyed hearing her state so. 'Is there an agreement between Edmund and your father?' he asked.

'There is no such agreement, me Lord. I can assure you. Edmund is only a friend,' replied Agnes.

Again they rode in silence for a time before John said, 'Agnes, I wish to 'ave your permission to call upon you regularly. May I do so?'

Agnes smiled and blushed a little as she looked straight at John. 'Of course you may. I wuld very much like that.'