Three Round Towers

by Beverley Elphick

  Burn his body from his head,

  Then we’ll know old Pope is dead.

  Traditional and referring to papal plot to kill King of England. Cliffe Bonfire Society of Lewes still carries ‘No Popery’ banner

  The very next day was the Lewes celebration of Fawkes’ night and I saw Pot myself.

  He told me that everything ‘was gone quiet’ and perhaps it would all blow over. I couldn’t quite believe that but I tried to take some comfort.

  Mrs Makepiece, Billy, and I all went up into the town to see the burning of Guy Fawkes while Miss Wardle stayed at home to guard the animals. I didn’t quite understand that at first but all became clear later. It was a dark crisp night and we wrapped up warm, and even before we got up into the town I could smell wood smoke. I was amazed to see a huge structure of faggots and tar barrels at the top of School Hill. The towering unlit bonfire stretched some seventeen feet and was protected by a rowdy and threatening crowd. Mrs Makepiece told me that the previous year the Justices had been roughly used and there had been a riot. This year, the law must have decided they had met their match in this patriotic revel and stood at the dark margins, though I noticed they were armed with staves and even blunderbusses. I was more than a little frightened by this heaving mob of humanity and my fear increased as I saw a large group of masked men forcing their way towards the bonfire. The leader carried a lantern in one hand, a lighted taper in the other and a bundle of shavings slung across his shoulders. The throng behind him all carried kindling torches and were lustily singing the kings anthem. As the bonfire was lit everyone around me took up the refrain and my fear disappeared as we all roared our approval and joined in the singing and chanting. We all marched down the hill toward the river; my lipsy leg didn’t slow me up as I was fair carried along in the general surge and Mrs Makepiece was gripping my arm for all she was worth. When we got to the bottom of the hill and near the river we came to a standstill in the press of folk. I couldn’t see what was happening but I felt part of it as I was forced into a wall with Mrs Makepiece alongside of me. Billy and Pot were in the thick of it and told me later that tar barrels were thrown into the river, with a few people too. The bonfire boys had been met at the centre of the bridge by a crowd from Cliffe. We were stuck there for quite some time as the singing and shouting got louder and more general, though every now and again a bonfire anthem struck up and the voices merged into something that sounded quite musical and heartfelt. Eventually, we managed to get out of our safe spot and made our way back up the street before we were again engulfed by revellers. We managed to dodge the squibbers and those throwing fireballs around and made our way towards the top of the town again.

  The fire on School Hill had burned ferociously and one building had been scorched but no one in the crowd seemed to care. The power of the night was in the revellers and it would have taken an army to disperse so many people drunk on enthusiasm, as well as brandy and gin. I couldn’t help thinking that the Justices must quake at this show of strength from the population and would do as much as they could to prevent it. I was assured by Mrs Makepiece that Lewes was a bonfire town and for one night a year the people ruled and woe betide anyone who got in their way. It was all very exciting and if I had been a man, I would have wanted to be in that group of firelighters though I didn’t like the squibbers much.

  The next day Billy and Mrs Makepiece both told me a bit about the revelry. It seemed that the Guy Fawkes’ celebration was just a part of it and that the putting to death, by fire, of seventeen good protestant people on the very same spot where last night’s bonfire was built was of equal importance. The martyrdom of these local men and women at the hand of Bloody Mary had become an important part of a celebration against the ruling class. Lewes, according to Mrs Makepiece was a hotbed of dissenters who on that one special night celebrated martyrdom and revolution with fervour. Mrs Makepiece called it letting go and where was the harm in that? She also said that the Trade were heavily involved in the night’s events, and one group carried ‘No Popery’ banners which referred to a papist plot to the King’s life, which was another reason why the Justices were unhappy at their loss of control of an entire town and many of the surrounding villages and hamlets.

  I wasn’t able to judge whether it was just as she said or an altogether more sinister show of force for its own sake with the reasoning blurred by history. Whatever it was, I had felt greatly excited by the press and power of the people.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I was summoned again to the coroner’s office and once again Farmer Elwood accompanied me. We were shown into a different room and as well as the coroner there were a number of official looking people who had a very serious look about them. I sensed it was not good news for me and I felt my knees give way as I stumbled toward the bench they indicated. Farmer Elwood stood at my side and when I was requested to stand he held my elbow tightly at once supporting and comforting me.

  I am afraid I don’t recall the exact words that were used to charge me with murder.

  I do remember that there was no mention of kidnap. I remember that there were angry voices spilling all around me and that I was allowed to sit through it all once the pronouncement had been made.

  I was taken by the constable to a cell and was very distressed to be sick in front of this man who clearly believed that I was indeed a murderess. The next thing I remember is the gentle ministration of the coroner wearing his physician’s hat. He had some burning herb held under my nose that brought me back into the present with a jolt.

  Farmer Elwood was red-faced and angry by my side. He turned on the constable and demanded that he leave me to the doctor’s care pointing out that I was in no fit state to attempt escape. The man spat on the floor in disgust and grumbled his way round the room before leaving – making a great show of locking us all in.

  The nausea overwhelmed me as I quaked and quivered in a state of fear, and bubbling anger that anyone could think I would do such a wicked thing. I was unable to speak at all but I knew my innocence and it was agony not to be able to make others see it. I was robbed of my voice though it continued in my head. In due course the uproar surrounding me abated and I was left alone in the cold bare cell though not before Farmer Elwood put his arm around me. ‘Don’t fret Esther, we will resolve this monstrosity of injustice.’ I huddled into a corner and shivered uncontrollably. I had not taken in details of the charge and what would happen next but I felt exhausted and without hope despite my friends goodwill.

  I passed a fretful night and woke to a bleak cold light coming through a grill high on the wall, too high for me to see out of even if I climbed on the bucket set in the corner. I had to suffer the indignity of my bodily functions in full view of the guards who constantly passed by and looked in. I was given some cold meal for breakfast but it turned my stomach and I was unable to eat it. I asked the surly guard for some fresh water or small ale but received none.

  Farmer Elwood returned that morning. He explained gently that he and other townsfolk had undertaken to seek my release and that it might take a few days and I must be patient and trust in the goodness of people. I wept. How could I trust in the goodness of folk when I was so unjustly accused by wicked people who were believed before me? Did it not show that power was in the hands of those who were strong rather than right? Who would take my part against such a powerful family? I poured this out to Farmer Elwood bitterly.

  ‘Esther, they are not powerful, they are just a family the same as many others. We just have to present your case and evidence and justice will be done,’ he said.

  ‘You must believe in yourself and bring forward your spirit to fight this. You must not succumb to fear for it will act against you and give your opponents a victory that they should not be allowed to have. Fight, Esther. Fight for Beth. Fight for your good friend Becca who died for her baby. Fight.’

  Once again, I was alone and I tried to pull my thoughts together in a rational manner.

  Every time I found a
positive thought, few though they were, the fear, the hurt swamped over me and I was thrown back again into a quivering and weepy state. I know Billy-alone came to see me but he was not allowed in. I heard him calling from the street.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I would like to say that my spirits recovered quickly and that I regained my belief in myself but it was not so. The length of time I spent in that grim cell worked into my bones and by the time the Elwoods, Mrs Makepiece and the coroner had achieved my release on surety of their good names I was but a ghost of my former self. I was taken by carriage to the farm but not before the constable took the opportunity to threaten me with the gallows. He smirked as he slammed the cell door emphasising his belief of my guilt and inevitable incarceration or death.

  Cecilia stood at the front door with Beth in her arms and tears streaming down her face. ‘Come in, come in, you must be frozen.’ She turned and handed Beth to someone behind her and pulled me into her arms. ‘Oh Esther, this has been too cruel, there is nothing left of you, come to the fireside and let me warm you. Mrs Fisher, the soup, some bread, some brandy. Hurry.’

  I was ensconced in Farmer Elwood’s big wing chair, carefully sipping the delicious meaty broth. I say carefully as my hands were shaking and I felt very light headed.

  Cecilia was on her knees in front of me. ‘Did they not feed you Esther?’ she asked as she studied me.

  ‘Aye, but I couldn’t eat it – I was too upset and mostly it was just gruel and a rind of stale bread. You had to pay to get a proper meal and the constable didn’t seem to want to help me. I asked him to get a message to Mrs Makepiece and ask her for some food – he said it wasn’t his job to run round after me. I couldn’t eat anyway, I felt sick.’ I looked down at the bowl and felt my stomach turn.

  ‘I’m sorry Mrs Fisher, it is lovely but I can’t manage any more.’

  I turned to Cecilia who was looking at me with great concern.

  ‘How is Beth, has she been well, is she feeding properly?’

  ‘Oh, she is bonny and very greedy. We think, that is I think, she might take some solids soon. She smiles and laughs and has us all wrapped round her little finger. Esther, if you want to change and have a bath, I have asked the girls to heat the water for you. I didn’t think you would want to cuddle Beth with the dirt of the gaol all about you.’

  ‘No, no, of course not. I’ll go up then and perhaps I can see Beth as soon as I come down?’ I asked, trying to ignore the jealousy that pinched my heart.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she smiled gently. ‘Don’t worry Esther, Beth knows you are her mother and she will soon be back in your arms.’

  ‘I’m sorry Cecilia, It is just so hard not to see her and I am so grateful to you for stepping in and loving her.’

  ‘There is no need to thank me, we are happy to care for her and Esther, you must not think I am trying to usurp you. I am not.’

  I struggled to compose myself: to control the jealousy, the mean-spiritedness that threatened to overwhelm me, when all these people had done was to help and protect us.

  ‘I know, Cecilia.’ Hot tears tracked down my cheeks. ‘I just feel so unsure of myself now and thoughts come into my mind that shouldn’t be there. I have tried to find my spirit, as Mr Elwood advised, but I just seem to be floundering in a pool of doubt. Please forgive me.’

  She smiled and took me by the hand as we walked up the stairs to my room. ‘Have your bath Esther, make yourself fresh and pretty and Beth will recognise you as her mother.’

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  To dry salt beef and pork

  Lay the meat on a table or in a tub with a double bottom, that the brine may drain off as fast as it forms, rub the salt well in, and be careful to apply it to every niche; afterwards put it into either of the above utensils; when it must be frequently turned, after the brine has ceased running, it must be quite buried in salt, and kept closely packed. Meat which has had the bones taken out is the best for salting. In some places the salted meat is pressed by heavy weights or a screw to extract the moisture sooner.

  MacKenzie’s Five Thousand Receipts in All the Useful and Domestic Arts

  Time moved on and I was feeling stronger when Farmer Elwood, Cecilia, Mrs Makepiece and I all agreed to put dark thoughts and deeds aside until after the Noel celebrations. My case would not be heard until the spring assizes and we were all in much need of some cheer.

  Billy-alone came over one morning and Cecilia and I put our coats, hats and mittens on and walked though the orchard towards the fields. It was very cold and hoar frost crystallised the grasses and hedgerows. Lying snow had crisped up and our feet cracked the ice laying between the ruts in the trackway. Our breath sent little wisps of moisture in front of us as we marched briskly towards the coppice where, we had been assured, were evergreens and berries to decorate the drawing room and – for the first time – the kitchen.

  Billy clambered up the bushes to pick the choicest boughs and we laughed when he fell right into the centre of a big fat laurel. We tied the branches into bundles and put them into trugs to carry home. Billy dragged the bigger ones that didn’t have berries. I also cropped some old man’s beard, which grew abundantly.

  ‘We need to stop in the orchard, ma’am, I know where there be some mistletoe, a fine big sprouting,’ said Billy.

  ‘And who is the mistletoe for Billy, who wants to do the kissing?’ laughed Cecilia.

  ‘Why not me?’ he declared stoutly. ‘It’s tradition ain’t it? Some in the hall, some in the best room and…’

  ‘…some in the kitchen,’ we sang at him, laughing. For a brief moment my troubles lifted from my shoulders.

  We had been out for several hours and were glad to get back into the warmth. Mrs Fisher and Cilla had made some mince pies and the kitchen smelled delicious with hot spices and sweet flavours all around. I still had not regained my appetite but I took one of the pies and enjoyed it very much. Billy took a piece of the mistletoe and with much prancing and laughing he clambered onto the big table and tied it to a beam. I glanced at Cilla who had gone quite pink. I didn’t think it would be long before the evergreen symbol of romance would be put to use.

  I couldn’t help reminding everyone that the berries of the mistletoe were very poisonous and care must be taken that they did not fall into food or drinks.

  I didn’t want to break the joyous moment but I was seeing dark shadows everywhere and I couldn’t help myself. I needn’t have worried, the good cheer and laughter soon took hold again as we started to decorate the entrance hall and the drawing room. Cilla and Billy undertook to do the kitchen and when we all progressed round the rooms to admire, we were very impressed with their joint effort.

  Farmer Elwood returned to the house after dark and Cecilia, Beth and I were waiting in the hall to welcome him with mulled wine, warm ale and more mince pies. He pulled his lovely young wife into his arms and gave her a boisterous kiss right under the mistletoe. He tickled Beth with his whiskers and gave her a kiss too. I hung back, not sure where I belonged but he held out his hand to me and pecked me on the cheek. For the first time in weeks I felt happy. For me, it was all about belonging.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Softening of skin and healing chaps

  Take of prepared hogs lard 2lb

  Rose-water 3 oz

  Beat the lard with rose-water until they be mixt then melt the mixture with a slow fire, and set it apart that the water may subside; after which, pour off the lard from the water, constantly stirring until it be cold.

  MacKenzie’s Five Thousand Receipts in All the Useful and Domestic Arts

  It was but a few days to Christmas and at last I began to feel normal again. The hardships of the gaol seemed far away as the house filled with wonderful smells and there was much giggling and secrecy as we all did our best to make little gifts for each other. I had bottled some fruit in brandy that Mrs Makepiece acquired for me from a source I didn’t enquire into. I planned to give a bottle each to Farmer Elwood,
Mr Franklin, and Mrs Makepiece. For Cecilia I was working on a sampler to decorate her bedroom. I struggled to think of anything for Billy but finally lit on some homemade slippers. I asked Miss Wardle for some small off-cuts of piggy leather and fashioned them into slippers using wool and leather thongs for bindings. Beth was easy – I made a little jerkin from some fragments of material from Cecilia’s linen box. I had enough scraps left over to make a hat and mittens and socks. Miss Wardle entered into the spirit of giving and for her I made some ointment, according to a receipt of my mother’s, to protect the skin from bad weather, though it had to be said it might be a bit late to help her old, wind-chapped hands. I did wonder if it would be right to give Dr Grieve a small gift. Cecilia and I discussed it and she said that I should bake some of my little pies and make up a parcel for him. It wasn’t too personal and he liked his food.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Bramble Wine

  Of fresche picket black beries take a gallon measure; pour on an equal mesure of boyling water. Stand the Beries and Water till they be colde. Strain the liquid into an Hoggeshed; stir in of suchre three or foure Pounds. The Wyne may be dronck

  in one yeare or near.

  Old English Recipe

  The Elwoods would be ‘at home’ to visitors on Christmas Eve when the carol singers would come by and sing for the family. They invited their neighbours and local friends round for a drink and sweetmeats to celebrate the birth of Christ on the morrow. I didn’t join the festivities as I felt myself still to be an object of gossip; Cecilia tried to reassure me that their guests would all have goodwill at heart but I couldn’t quite bring myself to satisfy anyone’s curiosity. However, I listened to the carols with enormous pleasure as they carried the message of hope.