Prue Phillipson - Hordens of Horden Hall (43 page)

Mary Turner wrote to tell Mistress Arabella Wilson that she and Sam had stood and seen the King brought into Newcastle and they had learnt that he was being proudly entertained in the town. But she added that Horden Hall was still held by the Scots and they had also billeted two officers in Nurse’s cottage when she died.

“What, poor old Nurse!” cried Bel. “Well, there is one death I didn’t cause. Thank the Lord for that.”

Bel was still corresponding with France though the letters were erratic and often showed signs of having been opened. In December 1646 news flew round that the Scots were negotiating the sale of the King to the English since he would not sign the Covenant and it was expected they would leave England as soon as he was handed over and their arrears of pay settled.

So Bel’s mother wrote,
’You must return to Horden with your precious heir the moment it is released to you’.
She added with a hint of disappointment that ‘
Henrietta has had another girl
.’

‘At present our work is here,’
Bel wrote back,
‘but I will appoint Sam Turner as Bailiff to oversee the Hall when the Scots leave. Parliament shall not have it. They may still try to impose the sequestration order but I will fight it. Since Father’s death I cannot see that even in their notions of lawfulness they can make it stand. One day Daniel and his dear little girl cousins will get together there and we will all rejoice. I know that England has closed its doors to you and now we too are under threat. We have had to accept a preacher to harangue our little community every Sunday or be closed down ourselves. My Nat and his father go humbly to hear him, though my mother-in-law and I always manage to have a sick child or two to care for. England is a sort of prison but these walls which I once found cold and prison-like enclose a place of abundant love, not least because my beloved Ursula is here.

Good souls from both sides of our divided country help us with gifts and if we are short of rent or interest payments, I ask my mother-in-law to go out and talk to people and she shames them into filling her basket with coins and sweetmeats for the children. She looks so gaunt I believe they are sorry for her but truly she is as tough as old leather now and I love her. Please, dear Mother and Sister, pray for our enterprise as I do for you,

Your loving daughter and sister,

Arabella.’

It was the only time she ever called herself that. Everyone in The Edward Manners School called her Mistress Bel to distinguish her from old Mistress Wilson.

“Are you happy, Mistress Bel?” Nat asked on a day in January 1647. “Do you know today is the third anniversary of our wedding?”

“I didn’t know. I am too busy to know what day it is.” She and Ursula were making tarts for the children’s tea.

He put his arms round her from behind and turned her to him and kissed her. “One day, my dearest, you may be a great lady and our baby will be Sir Daniel of Horden. I may at last be ordained and fulfil what I think God has in store for me, but here and now I am very happy in what we are doing. Are you?”

She gave him a floury hug. “I am very happy.”

“There is not a cloud on her horizon,” Ursula said, lifting her eyes to a spot above their heads. “Ay, not a cloud,” she chuckled.

It was at that moment that an ominous hammering came on the front door and four men were revealed lined up in their Puritan black, with their big white collars and their tall black hats making them look even more threatening. Bel was swiftly transported back to the visitation of the men who had come for Patrick Dawson but times had changed and so had she. They carried no axe only a paper. She invited them in and offered them refreshment.

They declined and unfolded their paper. She knew at once what it was; a copy of the Covenant. They had all heard that school teachers of every rank from the Master of Westminster School downwards had been ordered to sign. He, the most august, had refused and no one had dared to remove him, but as Nathaniel Wilson was the son of a rebellious priest, it was a wonder it had taken them so long to track him down! It was the end of their joyous enterprise.

“What will you do,” Nat asked them, “because I cannot sign this? Will you shut this haven of light and joy and turn out twenty young souls to beg their bread?”

“Edward Manners has signed and is willing for us to appoint our own people. You are young and fit, Master Wilson, and can surely earn your bread where you will not have the corrupting of young minds. Your father too has been giving Bible lessons to the children. He must go.”

“And my mother, my wife, my son? They are entitled to support under the new law I believe.”

“Your wife is of the Horden family. A Committee has been looking into the case and it is recognised that the sequestration order on Horden Hall can be lifted. I have brought the necessary documents. In those circumstances no help will be given to your family. You have a substantial property, but there will be levies payable on it, so we advise you to return to deal with those. None have been paid for some years.”

“The Scots seized it,” cried Bel.

She was furious at their sham legality but excited at the thought of home. To leave their work here would be an agonising wrench but to be in charge at Horden again and with Nat at her side ... his parents would have to come! More mouths to feed and how could Anne Wilson settle at Horden Hall? She could see her Daniel’s grave. Give him a Christian burial in Nether Horden churchyard. Bel’s mind raced on into the next phase of their lives even while the men were telling her that what the Scots had done was no matter for Parliament. They handed over their documents and prepared to leave.

When she escorted them to the door she couldn’t refrain from speaking her mind. “You have been fighting the King for freedom from oppression. What do you call this? You turn an old couple and a young couple and their baby away from the charitable school they founded to be a blessing to the orphans which this mad war has produced. Do you think God is pleased with you?”

“The school will go on in safer hands than yours,” and they mounted their horses and were gone.

“But will there be as much love in it?” Bel asked the empty air. “Ursula will be coming away with us.”

CHAPTER 22

October 1647

Little Daniel understood that on this October day he was someone special. Ma, Da, Gramma and Granda kept asking him “How old are you now?” and he had learnt to answer “Three,” which sent them into ecstasies of delight. But much more strange and wonderful things had been happening; riding in a big box with two horses in front and sleeping in strange beds between Ma and Da. As long as he had Nana Sula as well the strangeness was not at all frightening. She told stories to pass the time in the big box and he loved to stroke her face while she talked. It was a source of endless wonder and interest as her laughing eyes were a source of endless fun.

But now the long hours of being cooped up seemed to be coming to an end. Ma was very excited and kept pointing things out to Da and the others. Then she lifted Daniel from her lap and stood him looking out of the window. “See, the gates of home, Daniel, shabby and rusted but we’ll soon put that right. Now look out for the man on the horse. Wave to him. It’s your great-great-grandfather, Sir Ralph Horden.”

Daniel waved vigorously at the strange man who appeared to be waving a sword and yet was unmoving. Not understanding it he lost interest, and was only too happy to be released from confinement a moment later. He jumped down into the arms of a curly-haired man, but he was a stranger and so was the pretty woman smiling at the open door. So he pushed past them both and found a huge space to rush around in and then the excitement of stairs which he had never seen before.

Reaching the top and finding more space in front of him he looked back the way he had come and saw all the grown-up people kissing or shaking hands and looking about them

“I’ve done my best to clean up but it’s terrible shabby,” the pretty woman was saying.

Then he saw Da kissing Ma and exclaiming, “It’s so grand! Thank the good Lord I didn’t meet you here or I would never have dared to marry you.”

Then Gramma looked up and saw him at the top of the stairs and screeched out, “There’s Sir Daniel claiming his birthright. Mind he doesn’t fall down.”

And Nana Sula scuttled up and grabbed him.

“And what’s special about today?” she asked, as she carried him down again.

“Three!” he squealed out with glee.

“Three and you’ve come home,” Ma corrected him, but that was more than he could understand. Home had long stone passages and children who loved to play with him. This place was vast and empty. He began to whimper.

“He’s tired,” said Granda.

Gramma picked him up and carried him out of earshot of the others.

“That’s right. Have a weep for me too, little one. They say you are to have a new name – Horden after Wilson, because this is your inheritance. And my Nat will take the name of those who killed his brother.
My
Daniel, your uncle. Life is full of things hard to bear. You’ll find out.”

This had a threatening sound so he wriggled down and ran to Nana Sula where there was never anything but love and laughter.

“Are you hungry? I am,” she chuckled. “Come. Mary has some supper ready.”

And they all went into a kitchen where there were normal things; a big table and benches and pots and pans and food. Life was comfortable again and all the faces round the table were smiling.

H
EARTS
R
ESTORED

Book two of The Hordens of Horden Hall 

Trilogy

P
RUE
P
HILLIPSON

KNOX ROBINSON

PUBLISHING

L
ONDON
 • New York

CHAPTER 1

29
^th
 May 1660

T
HERE
 was nothing now in Daniel Horden’s mind but the unplanned wondrous coincidence of this present moment.

The immediate past had fallen away. His seasickness had vanished. His embarrassment at slipping on the slime at the landing stage was forgotten. He was indifferent to his soiled cloak and breeches, though he must soon appear in them before a gaggle of unknown relations. Even the certainty that the three young ladies among them would eye him as an uncouth country boy had vanished from his thoughts. That terror of an imminent future was lost in the brilliance of now.

He was about to see the King.

His mother had opened her letter before the fireplace in the small parlour back home at Horden Hall in the county of Northumberland.

“Well! I am to see my mother and sister after twenty years. They have learnt that we are to get a King again and they feel safe to come.” She had turned to Daniel’s Father. “Nat, we must go to London to meet them. They expect it. They will stay with the London Hordens and then travel back here with us. What say you?”

Daniel had not waited for his father to speak. “London! Go to London. Oh wonderful. I have never been further than Durham.”

It had not occurred to any of them that they might see the new King Charles with their own eyes. Nathaniel Horden’s verdict, when he had a chance to speak, was: “We might afford it if we go by sea.”

So they had made their preparations and embarked from Newcastle on a day towards the end of May sure that the King would be well established in his chosen palace long before they reached London. But they were no sooner landed than they learnt of his stately royal progress from Dover to Canterbury, on to Rochester where he reviewed the army, and, continuing on horseback, now this very day, would make his entry into his capital.

So here they were in sight of London Bridge, their legs aching from long standing but their bodies held up by the press of people which, impossibly, seemed to be still growing. Surely the King must come soon.

Despite his impatience Daniel kept breaking into laughter at the battering of his senses that London was hurling at him. The noise was the most overwhelming for one raised in remote Northumberland. Cannons thundered, church bells clanged ceaselessly, horses’ hooves rang on the paving stones as more troops and great personages passed by but still the main procession was not yet in sight on the bridge.

His eyes ached too with the brilliance of colour and so much shimmering of silver and gold. Never in his life had he seen such richness of robes and uniforms. Even the thousands of ordinary people had brought out their brightest caps and scarves to wave. Thank God the years of black and drab were being wiped away!