The Remembered

Chapter Twenty-three

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'That is a beaut'iful window,' James said to Richard after surveying the progress. 'You truly do fine work.'

'It is a gift from God, Father James,' replied Richard. 'I am blessed to 'ave the privilege of expressing me luv and faith in this way.'

'Aye, the window will bear witness of God for generations to comb,' promised James. ''ow long 'ave you been a glazier, then?' he asked.

'All of me life it seems. I of'ten worshiped in this church and culd nay take me eyes off the windows.'

'I will praise God when I see this window in the church,' said James. 'Boot now, I must return to the priory. I will check on your progress Wednesdee next.'

Richard watched as the young priest left to return to the priory. He was so young thought Richard, but he seemed confident and determined.

At the priory James retired to the library where he had been spending every free moment. He enjoyed the challenge and opportunity of rebuilding the All Saints' Church, but he really desired more time for study. Today he was studying the writings of Peter. It was likely that he would study by candlelight late into the night. He seemed driven to gain knowledge, especially lately. His studies were opening new avenues of thought and faith. Never before had he felt so close to God. But his new found understanding didn't always agree with Church doctrine and it concerned him.

James was aware that others had questioned Church doctrine before him. He loved the Church and had no intention of raising the ire of its leaders. He certainly did not want to go to hell, as was expectedly the case with John Wycliff. He had heard and read about the disdain of the Church for Wycliff. The disdain was so great that he had been declared a heretic. His body had been exhumed, then burned and to further illuminate the verdict, his ashes were cast over the River Swift which flows through Lutterworth. Few held John Wycliff's name in fond remembrance.

The previous day, James had read in the writings of Paul that the foundation of the church was apostles and prophets and it caused James to wonder why there were no prophets in the Church. He had also read that a man was to leave his father and his mother and cleave unto his own wife and that neither is the man without the woman, nor the woman without the man in the Lord. And yet, it was forbidden by the Church that he should marry. If God gave woman to the first man and commanded that they become one flesh, he wondered, how is it that the Church would forbid him do the same?

James removed a large, leather bound Bible from the shelf and carried it to the desk near the window. The book's leather binding was carved with a large cross on the front and the book was held closed by metal clasps. Large letters of embossed gold proclaimed 'Holy Bible' across the front. The Bible couldn't have been more than a few years old and its leather still smelled fresh. It was likely copied from an earlier Bible in the same library or perhaps from several of the priory's scrolls.

Two hours passed quickly and James soon found that he needed to light a candle. Continuing by the dimming light of day and the flicker of the candle's flame, James read the writings of Peter. It caused him to pause and reflect when he read, concerning the husband and wife relationship, that they were to be 'heirs together of the grace of life.' Heirs, he reasoned, inherit status, position or things, usually from a parent. If husband and wife were heirs together, what was the 'grace of life?'

James knew that 'grace and truth' came by Jesus Christ and that he was the 'way, the truth, and the life.' He had also read that 'eternal life' came by Jesus Christ.

'Surely,' he said quietly to himself, 'this means that man and woman are commanded to becomb one flesh and they can inherit eternal life together, as joint heirs.' The thought was powerful and exciting to him until he wondered how, without a prophet on the earth with authority to act in God's name, could such a thing be so? He reasoned to ask the Prior.

It was late when James approached Prior Forman. James explained to the Prior what he was reading and its implications, that is that the Church was in gross error on its teaching of marriage and likely had no authority from God without a prophet. James' experience with his study of the trial of Joan of Arc had taught him to not expect sympathy when questioning the teachings or the authority of the Church, but he was determined.

'James,' said Prior Forman after patiently listening, 'you are very yung and unschooled in life. You 'ave erred in your reasoning.'

'Boot Prior, if I might...' James was cutoff in mid-sentence.

'I will nay listen to blasphemy, me sone,' retorted the prior. 'Further, I must warn you, me sone, that if you persist in soch thinking, the devil will get 'old of your 'eart and there will be no saving you then.'

'Aye, Prior Forman, I understand,' replied James quietly. James left and went back to the library to think and he spoke no more of it to others at the priory.

______



Margaret tried unsuccessfully to pick up a loaf of bread that she had dropped. As she raised herself up, she held her back with one hand and her abdomen with the other and groaned.

'Let me retrieve the loaf for you, me luv,' said Richard as he saw his wife's struggle and obvious discomfort. 'You must sit more often. I do believe that you will 'ave twins,' he added with a smile.

With his wages from working on the All Saints' Church, Richard had been able to secure a small cottage in Stamford, not far from the church. It had a small garden and enough space for a cow and some chickens. Life was good for he and Margaret.

'Oh, me luv, I do 'ope that this baby combs soon,' said Margaret. 'I do nay believe that I can go on much longer. I am as large as a 'orse.'

'Nay, me luv. You are nay large, boot you are beaut'iful,' Richard said with a smile. He hugged her and promised to take the afternoon meal at home. 'If you shuld need me, send a neighbor to fetch me right away, me luv. Promise that you will do that.'

Margaret promised, but added that Geva would be visiting her and that she would be fine. Richard left the cottage to go and work on the windows of the church. It was mid-morning, and he was assembling one of the windows for the north side of the building, when a woman came hurrying to fetch him.

'Richard, comb quick, Margaret is going to 'ave the baby.'

Richard dropped a piece of glass that he was holding, causing it to shatter on the ground and he immediately left to see Margaret. When he arrived at the cottage, Geva and a neighbor woman, experienced in midwifery, were already with her.

''ello, me luv, I am 'ere,' said Richard, holding her hand. Margaret was already in pain and tried to give a weak smile.

'Oot of 'ere with you,' demanded the neighbor woman. She was clearly in charge and Richard wasn't going to question her, nor did he wish to do so. He didn't know anything about childbirth and it terrified him.

Once outside the cottage, Richard walked a few paces away, but it wasn't long before he could hear Margaret's cries, so he walked further still. He didn't know what else to do, so he walked to Saint Mary's to pray. After praying, he walked back to the cottage. He kept far enough away so as to not hear Margaret's cries, but close enough that he could keep an eye on the door.

The sun moved across the sky as the hours dragged on. Occasionally a neighbor would stop to chat with him to give him encouragement and to congratulate him. Then toward evening, Geva appeared at the doorway beckoning for him to come. Richard rushed to the cottage and to Margaret. She was holding a tiny, sweet baby to her breast. Margaret looked up when he walked into the room.

'Comb and meet your 'andsume lad,' she said encouragingly.

Richard thought that Margaret had never looked more lovely. He gave her a kiss and then looked at his fine son.

''e is so 'andsume,' he said to Margaret. 'I am grateful to you, me luv.'

Soon Ralf came by to check on Geva and he had their children with him. The children were so excited to meet their cousin. After a short visit, Geva left with her family.

The midwife gave Margaret and Richard instructions on the care of the baby and for the care of Margaret.

'I am next door boot one,' she said, 'do nay 'esitate to comb and fetch me shuld you need me.'

Richard had a concerned look on his face. 'And 'ow will I know if we need you?'

'Oh, you will know,' she said with a slight smile. 'Now you be certain that Margaret does nay get up. She must lay still.'

'Aye,' Richard promised.

'You did luvly, Margaret,' she assured her. 'You will be a fine mum. Now do nay forget, comb and get me anytime.'

Richard walked the woman to the door and thanked her graciously. Margaret was exhausted and fell asleep with the baby still sleeping on her chest. Richard was so happy. He had long hoped for a son and the day had finally arrived. Now he would be able to pass on his name. He looked at them both and a sweet peaceful feeling settled over him. Truly, he thought, he of all people were greatly blessed.

There was a slight chill in the air, so Richard started a fire in the fireplace and sat down near it. He didn't stay awake long. Early in the morning hours, with only the glow of the coals remaining, Richard slowly awoke when he recognized that his name was being called.

'Richard,' Margaret seemed to whisper quietly. At the recognition, Richard jumped to his feet and went to her side.

'I am 'ere, me luv,' he reassured her.

'I do nay feel gud,' she said quietly. 'I think that I am bleeding.'

Richard got a candle and lit it from the coals of the fire. When he turned back to Margaret his head spun and he nearly fainted when he saw the crimson bedding where Margaret lay.

'Margaret, you are bleeding,' he said urgently. 'Whot shuld I do?'

''urry and fetch me midwife,' Margaret strained to say and yet it was in a voice that was almost a whisper.

Richard rushed out the door and to the house next to their neighbor. Pounding on the door, he called out for the midwife to come. Soon he saw a candle in a window and then the door opened.

''urry,' he cried urgently,'it is Margaret. She is bleeding.'

He and the midwife rushed back to the cottage and to Margaret's side.

'Margaret,' the midwife said to her as she shook her gently. 'Margaret.' There was no reply. Richard paced the floor frantically, praying aloud as he did.

'Margaret.' Again there was no response. The midwife placed her ear very close to Margaret's mouth and listened.

'Richard, 'ush. I must listen for 'er breathing.' She kept her ear next to Margaret's mouth for what seemed several minutes. Then, arising slowly, she looked at Richard blankly and said, 'She is deed, Richard.'

'She can nay be deed,' Richard cried and he held her head in his hands. 'Margaret, comb back to me,' he said loudly. Then he lowered his head and rested it on her own and cried. As the tears flowed down his cheeks, he heard his son start to cry also.

After a short while, Richard slowly raised his head and said calmly to the midwife, 'I must get the priest. Whot shall I do with me sone?'

'You go, 'urry, and get the priest. I will take your sone to a wet nurse.'

Richard kissed Margaret again, 'God speed, me luv. I am soory. I will take care of our sone.' As Richard was about to walk out the door, he stopped and turned again, halfway expecting to see Margaret's smile and radiant countenance.

Richard considered All Saints' to be his parish despite the fact that there was a new priest and no building in which to meet. So, despite darkness and the tears that dimmed his vision, he ran as fast as he could to Saint Leonard's Priory and summoned James. James came to the entrance carrying a candle lantern. He was startled to see Richard standing at the entrance to the priory. He was especially concerned when he saw Richard's red eyes.

'Whot is it, Richard?' James asked with a concerned look on his face.

'It is me Margaret, Father,' Richard said in a halting voice. It took him a moment to catch his breath so that he could continue. 'She is deed.'

'Deed?!' James exclaimed. ''ow?'

'She delivered me a sone, boot then she bled.'

James grabbed Richard's arm. 'Richard, I am so soory. 'urry and take me to 'er.'

The two of them hurried as quickly as they could through the darkness back to Stamford and to Richard's cottage. The midwife had taken Richard's son and Margaret lay alone in a room only lit by one candle in the corner. James entered first and went straight to the bedside. Richard hesitated at the door. The sight of his beloved companion laying lifeless was almost more than he could bear. He was thinking that she looked like Margaret, but she was so cold and quiet. Whatever it was that made Margaret herself was now gone. And he deeply missed her.

The day was dawning by the time James completed his prayers for Margaret. The two men sat in silence as the light of day started to fill the room.

'I will send sumeone around to fetch 'er,' James assured Richard.

'I am grateful, Father,' replied Richard.

James left and Richard was alone with Margaret. He felt so alone. He looked outside and saw a beautiful day dawning, but it didn't seem beautiful to him. Margaret had been his beloved companion for so long, he didn't know how he could, or whether he wanted to go on without her. He was grateful to have a son, but without a wife to care for the lad, what was he to do?

Richard sat in the corner of the room on the floor and rested his head on his arms and knees and closed his eyes. Soon tears began to flow down his cheeks again and he found himself sobbing. It was a couple of hours before someone came from the priory for Margaret's body. Richard didn't rise, but watched from the corner as they carefully carried her away.

The midwife also returned and started to take care of the bed coverings. Richard just sat on the floor with no intention of leaving the cottage. Soon he was alone again. As he sat in the room and thought about Margaret, he could almost feel her near. He looked up at one point almost expecting to see her standing beside him. And if he listened, it seemed as though he could hear her voice.

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.