The Remembered (28 page)

'Do you see me sone?' asked one man of the man next to him. 'Me thought 'e wuld be trampled as they comb over the bridge.'
''e must nay 'ave not'iced the bull that slipped and got be'ind 'im.'
'Aye, 'e is a luky lad indeed.'
'The bulls are nay as large as when we used to rune.'
'Aye, and I 'ave the scar to prove it.'
Richard enjoyed listening and watching the people. He thought it odd that he knew so few. Then across the street from where he was standing, he thought that he caught a glimpse of someone that he should recognize, but did not. The person had reddish hair and beard and a light reddish complexion. Richard had an uneasy feeling about it and was about to fade back into the crowd when shouts could be heard around the corner in the direction that the bulls would be returning.
Soon the bulls were coming around the corner from the east side of Saint Mary's and the crowd near him erupted in cheers. Again, he stepped backward slightly when the bulls neared. It seemed that there were fewer runners now and he wondered whether some unfortunate runners had met with a fate similar to Bromley's.
After the bulls and runners passed, Richard surveyed the people across the street for the man with the reddish hair, but he didn't see him. His uneasiness continued, so he merged back into the crowd and made his way to the market. He strolled among the crowds at the marketplace for a couple of hours and watched the entertainers. He was amazed by the jugglers and enjoyed the music of the minstrels.
As he turned away from the minstrels, he heard a shout, 'That is 'im, sheriff. Seize 'im.' Richard looked to see the man with reddish hair pointing in his direction. Then the recognition set in, it was Simon, the man that he had met in the woods, the thief. Instantly, Richard was seized upon by two of the sheriff's men and roughly pulled away from the crowd. There was normally only one sheriff for Stamford and the entire surrounding area, but additional men had been called into force for the bull run.
'Who are you, whot is your name?' asked the sheriff.
'I am Richard Easton of Easton-on-the-'ill,' replied Richard as he struggled against the strength of the men.
''ave you ever been to Dover?'
'Aye, boot I did nay do wrong,' asserted Richard.
'Take 'im away,' demanded the sheriff.
'And me reward?' asked Simon.
'You will 'ave your reward if there is one to be 'ad. Now away with you,' the sheriff demanded.
'You will nay forget,' said Simon.
'Away, before I arrest you as well,' replied the sheriff, placing a hand on Simon's chest and pushing him for emphasis.
The two men led Richard back past the Saint Mary's church. The jail and court lay between Saint Mary's and the towne gate. The entrance to the jail was guarded by a heavy wooden door on large hinges. Outside the door hung various instruments that were used to extract truth. Two in particular caught Richard's eye. One was made of metal strips and hung from the ceiling. It had two legs like trousers and appeared to be capable of holding a man. The other was a bed with straps for the legs and hands and a wheel for tightening the straps.
Richard was led through the heavy door and down stone steps to another door. The men opened the door and shoved Richard inside. He fell to the ground in the darkness and heard the first door close followed by the steps of the men ascending the stairs and then the second door swung shut.
Richard picked himself up, but other than light coming in from a thin slit of a window, he could see nothing. Slowly his eyes became accustomed to the darkness of the room and he looked about. The room was completely made of stone; stone floor, stone walls and two stone beds. The ceiling was probably 10 feet high and made of heavy timbers. Richard was scared. His mind was racing with many thoughts. How did he end up in jail again for a crime that he did not commit? Surely John would make things right when he returned. But what if his return were delayed and he was brought before another alderman or judge. Would the guards use the torture apparatus for sport prior to John's return?
Richard stood on one of the stone beds and peered through the small window. He thought of the many times that he had passed by this very window, usually on the other side of the street to avoid any contact with possible prisoners. He had never considered that he might yet be one himself. Richard was relieved that he was the one person so confined today, but with the merriment of the fair, he was concerned that others may be locked up as well. Who would they be? Would they be vile or dangerous?
Across the street at the public house, Richard saw someone that he knew. Should he call out to them? No one knew he was locked inside.
'Oy,' yelled Richard several times, but over the bustle of the street he was not heard by the person, or they didn't wish to acknowledge a prisoner.
Richard sat on the bed and waited and wondered how long he would be locked up. As the hours dragged on he thought about his life. It had been a hard life, but he had tried to please the Lord in his work. He thought of Margaret and how he missed her. She would have been so pleased of their son, he thought. Then he thought of Elizabeth again. She had been a good wife, but they had been married for so little a time. 'Whot sort of wife wuld she 'ave been,' he wondered. 'Surely, she wuld 'ave been faithful and a 'ard worker.' He remembered how she had insisted on getting her father's approval for their marriage and not to do anything behind the backs of her parents. Truly, she was a faithful woman.
Richard thought back to his wedding to Elizabeth. He had gone to her cottage early in the morning and had surprised her with flowers that he had picked along the way.
'Gud dee, me luv,' said Richard. 'These flowers 'ide in shame at your luvliness.'
'Oh, Richard, the flowers are luvly. And todee we marry!' she had replied with a big smile and spun around. Richard loved the way she twilled when she was happy.
On the way to the All Saints' church that morning, Elizabeth had promised her undying love for him.
'I will always luv you, Richard Easton,' she had said. 'It does nay mat'er whot combs, I will never quit luving you.'
'And I you, me luv,' Richard had said in returned.
Truly, he had been married to two good women.
The hours passed and darkness settled on the jail cell. Still Richard was alone and that gave him some relief.

1459

Stamford, England

The All Saints' Church was filled to capacity on Sunday well in advance of the service in anticipation of what might be preached by Father James. Father James nervously greeted the parishioners at the front door until a few minutes before the service was to begin. Greeting Lady Darby gave him greater courage.
'Gud dee, me lady, I am glad that you are 'ere.'
'You are me priest and this is the Lord's dee. I 'ave comb as 'e wuld expect,' replied Agnes.
'I 'ope that you feel the same after the worship meeting,' stated James.
'God willing, I will 'ere 'is voice in your message,' said Agnes quietly.
'Aye, God willing,' replied James.
Lord Darby had not returned from his errand and Lady Darby sat alone in their pew.
James had expected Richard to attend the service, and was surprised that he had not arrived. Still, it was the appointed time, and James took his seat at the front of the chapel.
Before the service started, the prior of Saint Leonard's entered the chapel to the hushed whispers of the congregation. But greater excitement was elicited when another priest entered the door and started up the isle. He was obviously of high rank as was attested by the purple robe with golden trim and large elaborate miter on his head. He also carried a large golden staff. Whispers went through the congregation that it was the Bishop of Lincoln. He had with him an entourage of other priests of less rank. An audible gasp arose and the congregation stood in recognition. The bishop's countenance was stern and his eyes did not leave James as he walked to the front and took his seat, whispering to the prior as he did. James looked straight ahead and did not acknowledge the bishop beyond standing for him.
The rituals of the service proceeded as usual without variance and soon it was time for James to speak. He caught the bishop's eye as he approached the pulpit and in that moment decided that he would keep his comments brief and without criticism of the Church or its doctrine. As he stood at the pulpit, his eyes connected with Lady Darby. He hesitated for a few moments and as he did, the bishop and prior again started to whisper to each other. James let his gaze wander across the congregation and as he did, he thought, 'I 'ave prayed to know God's will and I 'ave God's word on me side. I will deliver the message that I feel God intends for me to deliver.'
'Me fellow lovers and followers of God and 'is Sone, I hail you this dee, The Lord's dee,' he started.
With his reference to being a follower of God and His Son, the prior coughed and whispered loud enough to be heard, ''e is no follower of or lover of God!'
Ignoring the distraction, James continued, 'You 'ave comb 'ere to worship your Lord and to partake of the emblems of 'is death and resurrection. You are to be commended for your faith and devotion and God who 'ears your prayers of worship in secret shall reward you openly.'
Members of the congregation smiled at the promise that God would hear and answer their prayers.
'Boot, partaking of The Lord's supper is in vain,' he said in a voice that could clearly be heard throughout the church. Many members of the congregation looked at each other and whispered loudly. Some objected audibly, but the loudest objection was heard from the prior and the bishop.
'Blasphemy,' shouted the bishop.
Undeterred, James spoke with greater boldness. He felt as though he were Paul the Apostle in front of King Agrippa and he desired to speak with as much conviction.
He continued, 'It vain because the authority of the Church is vain. The Apostle Paul said soch wuld occur before the coming of The Lord again in the flesh. As I taught last Soondee, the selling of indulgences is evidence of 'ow the Church 'as strayed.'
James continued to explain the writings of the Apostle Paul regarding a falling away from the truth, the need for a prophet and the ultimate restoration of Christ's church before he comes again. Many in the congregation welcomed his remarks, but the prior and the bishop continued to increase in agitation as he spoke.
Concluding his remarks, James said, 'Children of God do nay need to pray through the saints, boot they 'ave direct access to the throne of God through the merits of 'is Sone. The Lord himself taught us 'ow to pray and that was directly to our 'Father which art in 'eaven. Your Father will 'ear your prayer. The saints 'ave no great'er access to the throne of 'eaven than yourselves.'
The bishop could take no more of what he considered blasphemy. Rising to his feet with his face red with anger, he pointed at James and shouted 'Enuf! I will 'ear no more. Seize this man!'
At that command, soldiers who had come with the bishop and had been waiting outside the church were summoned. There was significant commotion in the church as the congregation also arose to their feet, some gasped in shock that the bishop was seizing James, some voiced approval. As the soldiers marched quickly to the front of the chapel, all eyes of the congregation followed them and then settled on James. There was no place for him to run if he wanted to, so he waited in silence. The soldiers grabbed him roughly and pulled him from the pulpit and shoved him toward the isle. The isle filled quickly as the soldiers led James to down the isle toward the back of the church. James looked desperately into the eyes of Lady Darby as he passed by. Struggling to turn to look at her, James yelled, 'Me lady, send word to me mum.'
Lady Darby pushed her way into the isle and tried to follow, but the press of the crowd was too much. The noise in the church was reaching a crescendo and over the noise she called out, 'I will. Where is she to be found?'
James urgently shouted back, 'Lambley, near Not'ing'am. At the only bakery.'
Outside the church, the soldiers started to load James into a wagon, when the sheriff, who was with them stopped them.
'And where do you expect to take this man in this wagon?' demanded the sheriff.
'To Lincoln where 'e will stand trial for 'eresy,' replied the captain.
'Nay, you will take this man to the Stamford dungeon,' shouted the sheriff.
The prior and the Bishop of Lincoln were on the steps of the church now and the bishop demanded that James be sent to Lincoln.
'Nay, I 'ave jurisdiction 'ere and 'e stays in Stamford until approval is given of the aldermen for 'is removal to Lincoln.
'You 'ave no jurisdiction over Church affairs,' replied the bishop sternly. ''e goes to Lincoln.'
''e will nay leave Stamford until I say 'e leaves Stamford,' countered the sheriff as he laid his hands on James to keep him from getting into the cart.
The All Saints' Church was now devoid of parishioners as they had all followed the commotion outside. The bishop and the prior were under some pressure to prevail in the struggle so as to not appear to acquiesce to the demands of the secular authority and they leaned close together and whispered.
After a moment, the bishop addressed the sheriff in a cold and demanding tone, 'Very well, 'e can be put on trial 'ere well enuf.' Then, turning to the soldiers, said, 'Take the 'eretic to Saint Leonard's Priory. 'e can be guarded there.' Addressing the sheriff again, he continued, 'After the trial, 'e will be returned to you for punishment.'
The sheriff relaxed his grip on Richard and replied, 'You intended to say, 'If 'e is found guilty.'
'Yes, if 'e is found guilty,' repeated the bishop in an irritated tone and added, 'Is there any doubt?'
Some in the crowd cheered at the pronouncement of heresy on James. Lady Darby had seen and heard enough and left immediately with the servants who had conveyed her there. As her coach was pulling away from the church, James was loaded into the cart and the cart began to make its way through the narrow streets of Stamford in the direction of Saint Leonard's. Agnes watched from the window of her coach until her coach rounded the corner and out of site of the wagon.
Once at the estate, Agnes debated whether to send a servant right away or to wait in hopes that John would return the next day and make the trip himself. In the end, she decided that it would not be wise to lose a day and she sent a coach to Lambley with a set of fresh horses.
James was taken to Saint Leonard's Priory and locked inside a small room. James was glad that the priory did not have a room underground and that this room had a straw mat and a small window.
The bishop and the prior met in the prior's quarters to discuss how to proceed. 'Why 'old a trial at all?' asked the prior. 'Is it nay obvious that 'e is guilty of 'eresy?'
'Aye, it is obvious,' replied the bishop, 'boot we must 'old a trial and record the proceedings.'
'And must we also assign sumeone to defend 'im?' asked the prior. 'There is nay a monk who will agree to soch a task.'
'God will defend 'im if 'e is innocent,' replied the bishop. 'If 'e is guilty, no one can provide defense.'
With that, it was agreed that James would provide his own defense and that the trial would begin the next day.
James spent most of the night in prayer, but when he did try to sleep, his sleep was restlessly interrupted by dreams of what his fate would be. He was surprised when the door to his cell was not opened as soon as it was light. He expected that they would want to get his trial done right away. When the bell chimed ten times, he was still left waiting in the room, but right after the bell was rung 12 times, the door was opened and he was summoned out and led to the large hall. The reason for the delay now became clear to James. Assembled in the large hall were the monks, the prior and the bishop as he expected; but also gathered were some of the towne's people. He looked over the assembly for Richard or for Lord or Lady Darby, but they were not to be found. He recognized some of the towne's people as those who had been at the All Saints' Church the day before and were some that had been vocally opposed to his teachings.
James had expected to be tried before the monks of the priory, all of whom were well acquainted with him and he had expected it to cause himself some embarrassment. Oddly though, as he stood before the seated bishop and the others, he was not embarrassed, he was not ashamed, he was not frightened. He only felt peace and the peace seemed to fill him with power.
'Place your 'and on the Gospels and state your name and swear that you will tell the entire truth to this assembly,' stated the monk who had been assigned to have him swear an oath. James did so and noticed that one of the other monks had been assigned to keep a record of the proceedings. After thus swearing, another monk that had been assigned as prosecutor, stepped forward and addressed James.
'James, you 'ave been accused of teaching doctrine contrary to the authority of God's Church and of taking authority unto yourself. 'ow do you answer these charges?'
'I am nay guilty of the offenses as described,' replied James calmly at which a commotion was heard amongst the assemblage as they took umbrage with his statement.
The prosecuting monk was prepared for James' reply and asked that another monk read the teachings that James had delivered the day before. James was surprised at the accuracy. He hadn't noticed anyone writing his words, surely that would have been obvious to observe. The monk must have memorized it and applied it to paper later. As the monk read, there were gasps from the assembly, especially from those who had not been at the sermon.
'Are these nay your words?' demanded the prosecutor.
'Aye,' replied James.
Cries of ''eretic,' rang out from the crowd.
'Do they nay testify against you? Do they nay show that you 'ave taught doctrine contrary to the authority of God's Church? Do these words nay show that you 'ave taken authority unto yourself?'
James replied that he had no authority except as evidenced in God's word and he explained again that he did not teach against God's Church, only against those who had usurped God's Church.
'Blasphemy!' shouted the prior. 'Need we 'ear more?'
'Let 'im talk,' replied the bishop. 'The record will justify our actions.'
The prosecutor didn't question James further that day. Instead, he called witnesses from among the monks that knew James and from amongst the towne's people. Most of the monks spoke of James friendly disposition, but also that he had questioned many articles of Church doctrine. The prior himself was called on to bear witness of the same.
The next day, James was the only witness questioned and he answered without apology. At the end of the day, they presented him with a confession to sign. It read, 'I, James, have taught doctrine contrary to God's Church. I have been given a fair trail and the verdict of this tribunal will be just. I have been led astray by the devil, for which, unless I reject all my words, my soul will spend the rest of eternity in hell.' James would not affix his signature.
James was left in his cell for the next two days. Other than receiving food and water, he had no contact with anyone and it caused him to wonder whether they would set him free, but he knew that was not likely.
Richard also sat in the Stamford dungeon, unaware of James' arrest. After a few days, Richard heard the upper door creak open and heard someone descending the steps. The door of his cell was opened and he was ordered out. Richard leapt to his feet in anticipation of being set free. He was hoping to appear before John Darby, who could clear up the improper arrest. But, disappointment set in when he saw that the alderman at the bench was not John.
'State your name,' demanded the alderman.
'Richard Easton.'
'You 'ave been arrested for thievery. 'ow do you plead?'
'Innocent, me lord.'
'Innocent. We 'ave a witness that will swear that you are the man.'
''e is the thief, me lord,' replied Richard.
'Accusing your accuser will nay do you gud. If you do nay tell the truth, we will extract it from you,' said the alderman firmly. 'Even now, me guards are ready with the rack. Wuld you like the rack?'