by R J Lynch
‘And that is what I find here. The Tom Laws I mentioned is one of the best farmers in the county, and yet if it had not been for the purest chance he would now be either a common labourer of the lowest type and the meanest income or he, too, would have had to go to the mines. It is a tragedy for this country that we waste so many good people for no reason other than an accident of birth. If we can raise enough people like Tom Laws and Emmett Batey, and if people see us doing it and observe the results, we may change minds. But I doubt it. And now, Brother, I invite you to take some rest while I go to Chopwell Garth to talk to Tom Laws.’
‘Chopwell Garth? And I think that Tom Laws is not the only person you go there to speak to.’
‘It is true: my beloved is there, too.’
‘Then you must take me with you, for it cannot be too soon for me to meet the woman our sister says has bewitched you. But you said something of breakfast?’
‘I have eaten. But I shall sit here while you have yours, and you may tell me what Hannah had to say to you. And how you responded.’
That evening, when Dick Jackson came to Hope House Farm, he had news to discuss with Jeffrey Drabble. ‘Did Job King ever ask you to work for him? I suggested he should.’
‘I heard he was looking for me. But I was so busy with Mister Blakiston’s new-fangled ways with the harvest, and Margaret Laws’s murder, and having to chase after Joseph Laws, that we never met.’
‘That could be a pity. Because today he made an offer to all his workers and, if you’d been one of them, I might have accepted.’
‘Offer? What was this offer?’
‘To go back to the colonies with him.’
‘He does not mean to stay here, then,’ said Drabble.
‘It seems not. And, from what he told us about life in the American colonies, I do not blame him.’
Susannah Ward had been listening at the door. Now she stepped forward. ‘I would like to hear this, too.’
Jackson said, ‘Is there any of your excellent ale? For this is a story to make a man thirsty and I would not like to finish before the end.’
Susannah went away and returned with a pitcher and three wooden drinking vessels. ‘Wait,’ she said. She disappeared again and, this time, when she returned she was holding a wooden platter of fried slices of black pudding.
‘My, my,’ said Jackson. ‘This is a feast to behold.’
‘It is in return for your tale,’ said Susannah. ‘Please. Speak.’
Drabble said, ‘And you may begin by explaining how something that is the same can be better. For I have heard it said that Job King describes the colonies as just like England. An extension of England.’
‘He does say that,’ said Jackson. ‘The colonies were settled by English men and women and, though others have now come there, they are still English colonies. But there are differences. Or so Job King says. And the most important difference is that, in the colonies, a man is judged by what he is and what he does and not by who his father was. If you can farm, or shoe a horse, or build a barn, you are valued. If all you can do is rule over other people and you produce nothing yourself, you are not. We would be something there and the likes of the rector and Mister Blakiston and yon Wrekin would be nothing.’
Drabble said, ‘The rector and Wrekin I give you. But Blakiston is a good man. He has sometimes a rude way with him, but I don’t believe he ever asked anyone to do something he could not have done himself.’
‘Ay. Mebbes you are right.’
‘He is right,’ said Susannah. ‘Mister Blakiston was a terror with me when Margaret Laws was murdered, but you cannot question his ability. And he loves Kate Greener, and his way of showing it is to make an honest woman of her. Not like the way Wrekin treated her sister.’
‘I have said aye,’ said Jackson. ‘But he has got into his head the idea that the death of Daniel Dobson was something to do with me, and he won’t let go of it. I believe the man would see me on the end of a rope, just like that man Wale and Mary Stone.’
‘You could end that,’ said Drabble, ‘by telling him what happened to Dan Dobson. And you could tell us at the same time, for I swear you never have yet. But the Americas. What you say sounds like a miracle out of the Bible. But they still have the English King, do they not? And the English King is no friend of you and me.’
‘Aye,’ said Jackson. ‘But Job King says that will not last for ever. He says the colonists are tired of being ordered around by the court in London. They are like us, man – they make wealth for those who already have too much, and those who already have too much take it away from them. Job King says the men and women who first went to the colonies went there so that they could be their own masters and not be beholden to those who ordered them around here. Well, Job King says their own masters under God. I think he must have found God while he was there, because I don’t remember the Kings being God-fearing people while they were here.’
‘So what is he saying?’ asked Drabble. ‘That there will be a war? And farmers and blacksmiths and builders of barns will defeat the English army?’
‘Yes,’ said Jackson. ‘He says there will be a war and he says the colonists will win it. He also says that I would be particularly welcome there because not only can I work farm land but also I know what it is to be a soldier. But I’m afraid I am too old to go that far at my stage of life.’ He looked at Susannah. ‘But you… You had a reason for wanting to listen to this.’
Susannah nodded vehemently. ‘Jemmy Rayne and I are soon to be wed. Jemmy’s farm is small. Enclosures are not complete around Haltwhistle, where he farms, and he is afraid that the Bishop and the Blacketts want to see small farms joined together into big farms, and he might be thrown off the land. If he sold what belongs to him – his cattle, his pigs and his share of the harvest – he would have just enough to pay our fare to Virginia and live the first year while he established himself.’
‘This is not idle talk,’ said Drabble. ‘You and he have talked about this. You mean to carry it out.’
‘As I said before,’ said Jackson, ‘you and me should have done it at the same time as Job King. When we were young, like Susannah here and Jemmy Rayne are now. We are little better than slaves here. Every time I see that damn rector I feel like cursing him. Why should the likes of us slave the way we do and yet still go hungry while the likes of him do nothing at all and live like lords? It is wrong. I am tired of touching my forelock and bowing my head and standing back to let others go before me. Others who, without my work and yours, could never put a meal on the table, and yet they never feel the pinch of hunger while you and me are rarely sure where we will get our next meal.’
‘I suppose,’ said Drabble, ‘that that is why you have eaten more than half of the black pudding. In any case, what have you told Job King? Have you said you will go with him?’
‘I have said I will not. I am too old. And too tired. But most of the others will go. Including Ann Forman, the woman Job King rescued from the overseers of the poor.’
‘Has she had her bairn yet?’ asked Susannah.
‘She had not when I left there. Or, at least, if she had I had not heard of it. But she may have had it now and if she has not, she will be delivered at any moment.’
‘That was a good thing Job King did,’ said Susannah. ‘He must be a very good man.’
‘Yes,’ said Jackson. I believe he is.’
Drabble said, ‘But not good enough, from what I hear, to give employment to William Snowball.’
‘He did not. He gathered us together and said Blakiston had asked him whether he had room for Snowball and he asked what we thought. And all were agreed. Snowball would be nothing but trouble. And so Job King refused him.’
Chapter 23
And now it was Sunday. Not any Sunday. THE Sunday. The banns had been read for the first time on the second of September. Today was the twenty-third of September and today Kate Greener would become Kate Blakiston.
What had happened on the two previous Sunday
s could not happen today. Blakiston could not collect Kate from Chopwell Garth and carry her to church. If this had been a wedding in the style that Blakiston’s class was accustomed to, it would have taken place separately from all other church activities and tradition would have dictated that Blakiston could not be permitted to see his bride before she arrived at the church. He, therefore, would have to be there before her.
There was another kind of wedding which was also carried out separately from normal church services, but it was used for the most part by couples who were marrying in secret and did not wish their families to know about the ceremony until it had been concluded.
Blakiston wanted none of that. What was most important to him was that the whole world should see his choice of bride and know that this was his decision. He therefore chose to follow the custom of the parish by marrying at the end of the Sunday service – but he accepted the opinion of his brother Peter and Kate’s sister Lizzie, reinforced by the rector’s wife, Lady Isabella, that he and Kate should arrive separately. Since the wife of a rector could not express such a thought in clear English to a man other than her husband, Lady Isabella’s views were passed on to Blakiston by Thomas. ‘Your bride comes to the altar a virgin. There will be many in the congregation who do not believe that.’
‘I give not a toss about what many in the congregation choose to believe.’
‘And that is to your credit, my good man. Nevertheless, allow the girl to appear as undefiled as in fact she is. You will take your place in the church early. She will come later, in the company of her sister and her sister’s husband as well as her mother and other members of the family. She will not join you in the Estate’s pew. Instead, she will sit towards the rear of the church.’
‘But that area is reserved for common people with no right to a pew of their own!’
‘Precisely so, James. And so she will be seen to be making the upward move in society that, in fact, actually is her lot. She will not join you until I have called on you to stand before me at the altar. You will have your groomsman with you; who is to give Kate away? Her father is dead, is he not?’
‘You know he is, Thomas. I suppose Ned will do it. He is her younger brother, but her older brother is somewhere in the American colonies and might be unwise to present himself in Ryton, even if he could get here in time.’
‘Is there still a warrant out for his arrest?’
‘I don’t believe any of us wishes to risk that possibility. In any case, I agree to your proposal. You have conducted many marriages; this is my first. It is my fervent hope that I shall never need to go through another.’
And so it was. The service passed as normal and differed from the conduct of other Sundays only in one particular: that Susannah Bent, who had wished to win Blakiston for herself and considered her rival unworthy of the prize, stalked from the church with her nose in the air moments before Claverley could call for James and Peter to stand before him.
‘I, Kate, take thee James, to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.’ Just to speak the words left Kate breathless. After all her concerns and doubts, they had reached this point. She knew, because he saw his lips moving, that James made a vow in almost the same words, with the exception that he did not promise to obey, but all of this seemed to be happening on a plane somewhere above them.
They were married. Man and wife. This man she loved so much, and who on occasion had irritated her beyond measure, was now her husband. And she was his wife.
Then the rector stepped forward and addressed the congregation with what must surely have been the worst kept secret in Ryton for the past hundred years. There would be a celebratory repast in the rectory’s barn and all were invited. Kate suspected that that was the reason so many parishioners had stayed on to the very end. She also suspected it was why Susannah Bent had removed herself – she could not have born to take part in a celebration of Blakiston’s nuptials. This idea was strengthened when Susannah’s mother embraced her, kissed her on the cheek and said, ‘I cannot join you in a meal, but I wish you every joy in the life to come. I’m sure you understand why it is impossible for me to stay.’
Lady Isabella had done them proud in the meal that she had prepared with the assistance of Walter Wilson, the butcher, and her cook, Rosina. If there had been a single person in the church who had not known in advance that they were to be invited to eat, the smell of a whole hog turning on a spit above a fire would surely have alerted them to the idea that something was happening. There were also chickens, and trestle tables laden down with vegetable dishes and puddings.
Jeffrey Drabble and Dick Jackson set about the spread with enthusiasm. Drabble, gnawing on a chunk of pork from the pig’s hindquarters, said, ‘By God, I wish I still had my teeth.’
‘Over there,’ said Jackson. ‘By where we came in. Mumbles.’
And it was true: four-day old loaves of bread had been sliced up and covered in vegetables and meat that had been chopped fine and doused in gravy so that the bread became soft enough for the toothless to eat. ‘Later,’ said Drabble. ‘Mebbes. I can just about tear this to pieces between my gums. It’s the best piece of meat I’ve eaten in a while.’
Jackson said, ‘It would take a lot to be better than yon amlet we got at Hope House.’
While Dick and Jeffrey were gumming their way through the overloaded tables, Blakiston was speaking to Tom Laws. ‘Tom. Did you think about what I asked you?’
‘You mean Emmett Batey, Master?’
‘I have just married your sister-in-law, Tom. If you can't call me anything but master now, I don’t suppose you ever will. But, yes, I mean Emmett Batey.’
‘Well, Mister Blakiston, if I can’t have Joseph there – and I know I can’t have Joseph there – then Emmett Batey will do well.’
‘Thank you. That was what I wanted to hear. And now, you must get to your meal before all of this disappears, for I think we are watching some of the hungriest people in three counties.’
‘Hungriest or greediest, sir.’
‘Hungriest, Tom. Let us not be rude about our fellows on a day of such happiness.’
Kate, too, was enjoying a private conversation, hard though it was to keep at bay all those seeking to congratulate her. She was talking to Rosie Miller.
‘I can’t tell you how glad I was,’ said Rosie, ‘when my mother said you had called.’
‘I was afraid you would be insulted.’
‘Oh, Kate, I hope you know me better than that. Although I had better learn not to call you Kate. You must be Mistress, from now on. Or Mistress Blakiston.’
‘Not when we are alone, Rosie. And not when there is only you, me and my husband.’ It was the first time she had referred to Blakiston as “my husband,” and she felt a shiver as she uttered the words. ‘As for the rest – well, we shall see. But you are free to begin today? Tonight?’
Rosie laughed. ‘Not tonight, my lady. For you are also someone else’s lady, and I believe that tonight he will want you to himself.’
Though Blakiston had not told her what his brother had said, this was the same reason as Peter had given James for putting up at the inn instead of staying with them. The desire to give them privacy on their first night together as man and wife. As Kate understood what Rosie was saying, she blushed. The blush intensified when Rosie said, ‘You may find yourself shouting out. I should not like it to be my presence in the house that prevented you.’ And she laughed. ‘But I shall be at your door early tomorrow morning, eager to begin work.’ She held up an admonishing finger. ‘And if I find that you have done anything that should be mine to do, then I will be cross. And you will know that I am cross. You are a lady now, Kate. You owe it to your husband not to forget that.’
In fact, it was to be some time before the night that Rosie had foretold came
to pass, because Lady Isabella’s hospitality extended to the new bride and groom well beyond the meal in the barn. When the last screvige of pork and chicken had been eaten and the last parishioner had departed, Kate and Blakiston were escorted to the rectory’s parlour. It was almost midnight when they walked the short distance to Kate’s new home.
Blakiston held Kate at arm’s length. ‘Kate. My love. It is later than we could have intended. I shall understand if…’ The words tailed away, but the meaning was clear. He spoke with great tenderness, but also with longing. Kate said, ‘Late it may be, my husband, but the day is not yet complete. I should like to beg five minutes to myself, and then I shall expect you in my bed. And in my arms.’
Later that night, Kate snuggled against Blakiston snoring quietly beside her and listened to the sound of an owl hunting in the dark. Life could be a hard thing, as some poor field mouse or songbird at rest on a twig might be about to learn – but it could also be more wonderful than anyone could imagine. Warm in the lee of a man who she saw for the first time as naked as she was herself, she thanked God for hers.
Chapter 24
For all the glories of Sunday, the following day was a normal workday. The maid came from the inn with breakfast for two instead of one, and Kate thanked her and said that the service would not be required again. Kate would be providing breakfast for her husband and herself. And Rosie Miller arrived soon afterwards and eased Kate away from the fire. ‘Seeing to that is my job, Mistress. I’ll thank you to let me do it.’
And then Blakiston, having eaten his breakfast and kissed his wife (though, in his confusion at his new states, he might have been forgiven for getting those two actions the other way round), left to ensure that Lord Ravenshead’s interests were being attended to as his Lordship would wish. And Kate for the first time examined the reality of the life of a wife of the gentry.
‘I’ve nothing to do. With you here, and refusing to let me touch a thing, I’ve nothing to do.’
