by Maria McCann
‘More men?’
‘Skilled men.’
‘And if we find them, will you join us?’
‘I will consider it.’
That was as much as I could get from him. Should I press further, he would shun me as being still too masterful, so there was no more to be done.
We climbed back onto the cart. Elizabeth drew her cloak about her and put the babe to her breast. I wondered would she be honoured by the fruits of her body in old age. No child would ever honour me. Or blame me, neither; but I was like to go hungry in my dotage. I imagined myself weak, patiently swallowing insults for lack of a defence. Harry, meanwhile, talked of ploughs, their wooden and iron parts. After a while I became aware of Ferris watching me, and understood that his mournful face mirrored my own. I forced myself to smile.
At the end of Cheapside, Ferris, Jeremiah and I descended from the cart together. Each colonist had sobered on the journey back, now that the New Jerusalem had ceased shining with amethyst and pearl and had shown itself of the earth, earthy: a place of soughs, stones and dung. Harry and Elizabeth went off briskly, wishing us a good night. Jeremiah came some of the way home with Ferris and me, talking of the pamphlet on setting which Ferris had found and had bidden me study. The gardener thought this new way might shield the seeds from birds.
‘Bird-starving is a kind of work to drive you mad,’ he commented. ‘What you need is a boy to do it and do nowt else until the grain has had a chance to get going.’
‘But if we set, there’ll be less grain lost?’ asked Ferris.
‘A man would think so. I use a dibble in the garden and I find it answers.’
‘A stick for poking holes in the earth,’ I put in before Ferris could ask.
Jeremiah halted. ‘This is my turning. God be with you, gentlemen.’
‘And with you,’ I replied. Ferris smiled and nodded; we all bowed. I watched Jeremiah go, his even, springy steps giving him the gait of one much younger.
‘A valuable fellow,’ said Ferris. ‘Would he would come back to us.’
‘I have asked him to consider.’
‘Well done.’ He linked my arm as we made our way along the road. It was dark, and the cold meant there were few folk about. I thought lovingly of the fire at home.
‘This weather doesn’t help us,’ Ferris lamented.
‘It doesn’t help the weeds, neither.’
‘Right you are, Colin Clout.’
‘Who’s he?’
‘A name for a shepherd. Countryman.’
‘Ferris, don’t take offence if I ask something.’
‘There’s a warning! I don’t promise. Ask.’
‘When I was in the army, I heard that some of the London men, first time out of town, ran in crowds to see the cows. Was that you?’
‘I’m not ashamed of it,’ he answered, laughing.
‘I can’t believe a man can get to full age and not know a cow!’
‘I know a man grew to full age on an island, and never saw the sea.’
‘He’s not ashamed, neither. Wonderful, to think how these wars have been a – a revelation to people.’
‘So they have. But some things that were revealed—’ he sighed.
‘What are you thinking of?’
‘Lots of things. Basing-House.’
I heard flesh-flies buzzing in the folds of a bloodstained dress, and then the faint screams of men against the crackling of fire. As if by agreement, we walked in silence the rest of the way home.
TWENTY-THREE
Coney-Catching
The tent came on apace, although not nearly as fast as Ferris had imagined. I found that by the use of darts (for I had mastered that trick too, and felt myself a perfect knight of the distaff) the thing would hold its right shape: the pattern pieces now being perfected, we needed but the hempen cloth called canvas to cut out the tent proper. I was pretty sure I could finish the whole thing before we left, and so I made a special effort to obtain the canvas, by paying a visit to Mister Keats’s shop and demanding it gratis. I considered he owed my friend that much. Ferris was told I had bought it elsewhere; and since I naturally refused payment in money, things went on merrily between us that night.
Sitting somewhat heavy-eyed at breakfast the following morning, I heard Aunt offer up special thanks for the great mercy shown to the household. Ferris and I exchanged puzzled glances.
‘Great—? What mercy might that be, Aunt?’ he asked once the Amen had been said.
‘Becs has said she will stay on,’ she answered. To me, that hardly seemed a great mercy, but then I recalled how attached Lady Roche was become to Caro. To an ageing widow a change of maidservant might be a serious matter.
‘She finds that her family are able to do without her after all,’ Aunt exulted.
‘An excellent servant,’ I said. I meant it; it must have been cruelly hard on her, waiting for Ferris and myself to quit the house. She rarely smiled these days, and the eyes she turned on me, when she thought it safe, were dull with shamed disappointment, wincing away directly my glance met hers. Plainly, she now thought of my strength and apparent mettle as decoys laid to take women. I also thought that Ferris was right, and that a part of her yet struggled in the snare, for she held herself very stiff whenever I was in the room. I was sorry. I could not myself have explained to her how the thing was, even had I thought it wise to try.
Everything needful was ready by the end of March, and Ferris itching to depart. Our first ox was purchased, and stalled until we should call for him. I went one day to see the creature and stroked his mild snout. He seemed a good beast. I was now sunk to the neck in this scheme which I dreaded, weighted down by loyalty and love.
The Mistresses Domremy came and passed an evening with us; they talked of pasturing and buttercups. Aunt indulged us with a stew of rabbits. Watching Ferris talk, his lively expression and the deft movements of his hands, I compared him favourably with any man I had ever seen: he was all grace. He listened keenly as the women went over their plans.
‘There can be no cheese made without slabs we can scald,’ Susannah explained.
Catherine added, ‘And keep the sun off, after. That will not be for some time, but if we set up a cow and calf on the common we could let the calf suck and when it was weaned sell the milk.’
Whether this was a good plan I could not tell, and I am sure Ferris could not. He had that shine on his countenance which both charmed and exasperated me. The charm was also working on Catherine, the more talkative of the two women. Her face glowed with a passionate warmth; I saw that she had misinterpreted his tender looks and the yearning sweetness of his speech. There needed someone to take her aside and explain that he would have shed the same radiance on a dead dog, had he seen a use for it in the New Jerusalem. Becs, who stood by awaiting orders from Aunt, watched the poor girl with the air of one who could, if she chose, tell much.
We accompanied the women to their lodgings and exchanged many good wishes before turning back to Cheapside. On the way home, I warned him not to smile so often or so kindly on Mistress Catherine.
‘Don’t you see,’ I said, ‘she thinks you have a liking for her? Time was, you would perceive such a thing at once, but your head is stuffed with enthusiasms.’
‘I did perceive it,’ he replied, amused at my vehemence.
‘And can you not disabuse her?’
‘She will learn in time,’ Ferris answered. ‘Be easy, I have no temptations that way. Here, read this.’ He waved a letter at me.
‘It is dark, Ferris,’ I explained with marked patience.
‘O, very well. Jeremiah writes: he will call on us, and has many tools of his own, including dibbles.’
‘And what are dibbles?’ I asked sternly.
‘Sticks to make holes in the ground,’ he recited. ‘In the ground we make holes, Brethren, and do make these holes with sticks, and these same sticks, that we use to make holes in the ground, do with many folk commonly go under the name of—’ he leapt back,
but too late, for I had his hat and proceeded to knock it out of shape while holding it out of his reach.
‘A warped hat for a warped head,’ I said, letting it drop. ‘Now, take care with the Domremy.’
‘Fear me not!’ He smoothed out the squashed felt. ‘I have not time for the devouring of virgins.’
Botts came to the house another day. He was unexpected and I was on edge lest Ferris invite him to dine, but my friend contented himself with offering cake and canary.
‘I am come to let you know how matters stand,’ Botts announced.
Ferris blinked obligingly and poured out more drink. It was wonderful to see how the good doctor got through it, with no ill effects save a slight wheezing as he explained to Ferris that he had so regulated his affairs as to be ready at a week’s notice.
‘We have now four oxen,’ Ferris said. I started, for this was the first I had heard of it. Botts inclined his head by way of compliment, saying, ‘I see you are no idle chatterer.’
‘Actions before words with Ferris,’ I said. ‘Nay, sometimes no words at all.’
I tried to breathe through my mouth whenever Botts turned towards me, for he smelt no more wholesome than formerly and there were now gusts of garlic added to the original perfume.
‘There’s a nobility in action,’ Botts said. ‘To dream is one thing, but to do—! That’s another.’
I could not help asking, ‘What do you propose to do?’ even though it meant he must blow his stinking answer into my face.
‘I have already said I will bring my instruments,’ he said. ‘Those aside, I will dig and sow as necessary.’
‘Should we need to butcher one of the beasts, your skills would be priceless,’ I said. The man hesitated, unsure whether he was being mocked.
Ferris, more experienced in my ways, made slit eyes at me behind Botts’s back.
‘Jacob hardly understands these things,’ he said. ‘When first he came here, he took the Thames for the sea.’
I was silenced. Ferris was plainly angry, and I wondered would he bolt his chamber door that night. Luckily the doctor could not stay long for he had an abcess to lance. My relief at his going enabled me to smile as I repeated, ‘God be with you,’ remarking meanwhile that he lacked a neck, so that his head swelled directly out of his body. Ferris bowed deeply. Botts went off leaving the ghost of his pestilential stench to sicken the room and Ferris threw himself crossly into a chair, legs across the armrests, feet dangling in the air.
‘Four oxen!’ I cried. ‘You said nothing of that to me.’
‘I forgot. What do you care for such – O Jacob, what in God’s name shall we do with Botts?’
‘Why ask? You have accepted him.’
‘I won’t have a man driven off with mockery. But I don’t want him, Jacob. I don’t like him—’
‘Why will you do these things?’ I pleaded. ‘Let me go to his house and tell him he’s not required. There’s still time.’
Ferris frowned. ‘I don’t know. Who else is there?’
I went on, ‘The women won’t take to him. Suppose we lose them?’
‘We need men more than women,’ he said, biting his lip.
There was indeed a lack of willing hands, and Ferris feared we might lose some of the friends we had. He fixed on two days, the first to visit Hathersage and the second to hunt up Buckler. We set out for Mr Chiggs’s house, where Hathersage served, directly after breakfast, the weather bright but cold.
‘Will his Master like it?’ I asked. I knew what it meant to be a servant, subject to whims and vapours.
Ferris laid a finger alongside his nose. ‘Master can’t walk. Not likely to step along and see us, is he?’
‘Machiavel.’
Hathersage himself opened to us. Ferris, sweeping off his hat, bowed deeply. I watched fascinated as he assured our friend we would not take much of his precious time, for we knew it was not his own and he had many duties – in short, under the guise of politeness, he cunningly recalled to Wisdom Hathersage the bondage under which he lived. We were bidden enter, and I could see the young man was glad of our company. I guessed loneliness must make up a great part of his life. He took us to a room that was entirely of polished wood. What looked to be a real silver service, not pewter, shone on the sideboard. All was richly carved and perfectly appointed, but the air smelt as if no food ever came there.
‘A brave room,’ I said.
‘It was made over in the new style for dining, just before Mister Chiggs joined up,’ said Hathersage. ‘Now we hardly use it.’
We seated ourselves around a large oval table.
‘Not much company?’ asked Ferris.
‘Only when his sisters come to town.’
‘How many others in the household?’
‘The cook, and a maid. Both married,’ and he smiled shyly. ‘A very respectable house. O, and a gardener. I rarely see him; he might beg my help once in a while.’
‘That’s not your work, surely?’ I asked, surprised.
‘I don’t mind. It is a change, out in the air.’ He sighed.
‘So, the life is respectable,’ Ferris returned. ‘But somewhat flat? No wife, little masculine company save the master?’ He studied the face opposite with gentle gravity, before going on, ‘Would you grow old in this life? If a man is equal to freedom, in the end he must have it.’
Hathersage lowered his fine dark eyes.
Ferris leant towards him imploringly, his voice now very soft as if he feared hoarseness. ‘We are far forward already. Cattle, grain, plough, cart, all manner of implements, and we have found a good place not too far from the City – a man might walk there in half a day. Since you came to the house we have a smith and a gardener in our company.’
He waited. Hathersage looked up and met his gaze, and as he did so Ferris tilted his head a little to one side, as if pleading, and so made it hard for the other to look away.
‘I have had second thoughts. About the – money,’ Hathersage jerked out. ‘It took me years to save.’
‘Is that all?’ cried Ferris. ‘Then leave it with some trusted friend. Bring yourself, your garments and bedding. Our first work must be digging, and all the money that takes has already been laid out.’
A flush rose in the pale brown cheeks; the fellow’s eyes glistened. Which way would he go? His lips quirked upwards, straightened again.
‘You’ll have like-minded friends about you,’ Ferris urged. Hathersage pressed his hands fanwise on the table to cool them.
‘All the rest have been asked to bring something. You see how I value you,’ my friend went on. Hathersage stared at his splayed fingers; I scarce breathed. Ferris laid his hands over Hathersage’s. The young man stiffened, but Ferris held him there and gently turned up the other’s palms. I saw them open, peeling back from their sweating prints on the polished wood. Ferris’s own palms folded over them, their clasped hands much of a size. I thought how it would be to break first Hathersage’s fingers, then Ferris’s.
‘Come to the house,’ exhorted Ferris, ‘see what we offer to share with you. Come any time, without notice, you’ll find yourself welcome.’
Hathersage stared at him, lips parted. ‘I shall speak to my Master this evening.’
‘God helps those who help themselves,’ said Ferris. ‘You can always come back to London.’
‘I can’t leave while there is none here to care for him.’
‘That shows a good heart; good hearts make loving friends. So we shall see you soon, agreed?’
‘Agreed.’
Ferris was first to pull his hands away.
‘An honest fellow,’ he said to me as we came away from the house. ‘With his second thoughts. No If it please you, my money was stolen, but the truth, straight off.’
‘Mmm.’
‘What, you don’t think he’s honest?’
I was certain Hathersage was all be should be, and felt the more miserable for it.
‘He didn’t change his mind because of his moneyba
gs, and not for a plough and cart neither,’ I said at last, turning to face my friend.
‘We have to like one another if we’re to live as brothers,’ said Ferris. He skipped nimbly over some wine vomit.
‘Paddling with his fingers like that! You courted him.’
‘I persuaded him, and for a good cause.’ His eyes invited me to laugh. I very nearly did, and stopped abruptly, shaken to find myself so obedient. We trudged back to Cheapside, ill at ease.
Once at home, I withdrew into my chamber to cut out canvas on the floor there, and while bending over the pieces I gradually came to a clearer mind. On consideration, I did not really suspect Ferris of any yearning for Hathersage, but this made me no happier. A virtuous young man, so easily caught. I recalled Zeb’s Stripping me naked with his eyes. Had Nathan, I wondered, been thus taken? Sleeping each night with Ferris twisted round me like ivy, I no longer doubted what I had blundered upon when I found them lying wrapped in one another. Now, I had even sourer cuds to chew on than jealousy of a lovely boy. Right up to our climbing onto the cart, the sprig had thought to keep his friend, but one morning he had woken to find Ferris run away with another. That idea had tickled me once. Now, it clawed.
‘Do you love me?’
I put the question before I touched him, before even getting into bed, for I wanted something more than those cries of love which are torn from the flesh. He lay eyes closed as if asleep, but on hearing me he sat up, pulling the cover round his shoulders.
‘Jacob,’ he whispered, ‘I’m not amorous of Hathersage! If you’re going to be like this, best not have him. I warn you though, if we keep him and you lay violent hand—’
‘Keep him by all means. Do you love me?’
‘I bring you to live in my house, make you a gift of all my goods, take you into my bed and my body. I let you come between me and the woman who is a mother to me, and I run the risk of the gallows. Can you not interpret all that?’
‘Won’t you say—’
‘What’s that ribbon round your neck, Jacob?’
It was the key to his money chest. I was ashamed, but not eased, and undressed with sullen clumsiness. ‘You won’t say the words,’ I accused.
