The Remembered

Chapter Two

1420

Easton-on-the-hill, England



Lind Easton was a hardworking man. He came by farming naturally, which was a very good thing since he had a wife and a child that depended on him to eat. They meant everything to him, but still he felt the almost crushing burden of providing for their safety and well-being. His father and mother had succumbed in the past year to a plague that had passed through the Stamford area. Lind, his wife and child had been very fortunate indeed to have been spared the horrible fate that so many had suffered. It was bad enough to lose a loved one to this illness, but to watch how they suffered before they died was almost too much to bear. By the time death wrapped its spiny fingers around the afflicted person its grip was a welcomed relief to the suffering. The illness was believed to be caused by evil spirits on account of the afflicted's wickedness, but Lind wasn't certain that he believed that. After all, his father, Ian and his mother Winifred were very devoted to the Church and to their families.

The first sign that usually accompanied the illness was aching within the head itself, followed by burning on the forehead. If that wasn't enough to torment the sufferers, the vomiting and the uncontrolled bowels that followed would cause them to beg for death. The priest had done all that he could to relieve the suffering, but it was of no avail.

Lind was in the fields when he heard of his mother's death. Heartbroken, he rushed to her side. Kneeling at her bedside, he held her lifeless body and wept. His father lay nearby unable to render any care or assistance. Although All Saints' of Easton-on-the-hill was right across the lane, the priest had been at the upper end of the village caring for someone else and was not able to administer last rites to her. This was very disturbing to Ian and Lind. All her life, she had been devout, and now, because the priest was not available, they felt that her soul was in jeopardy. The thought of this caused Lind to weep more bitterly.

Because of the number of the dead and dying, there wouldn't be a wake. Her body was placed in the ground later that day in a hole dug by Lind.

Lind didn't return to the fields for several days after putting his mother into the ground. Instead, he stayed by his father's bed, knowing that Ian didn't have much longer to live. Ian had quit eating and drinking shortly prior to Winifred's death. He seemed mostly dead already, but would occasionally open his eyes, eyes that had once been bright and blue were now gray and hollow.

Late in the afternoon of the third day that Lind was with him, Ian opened his eyes and looked at Lind. His mouth moved as though he wanted to speak, but only small whispers of air escaped his lips. Lind placed his ear close to Ian's mouth and listened intently, assuring his father that he was there.

Ian half whispered, half mouthed the words, 'I 'ave seen 'er. Aye, I 'ave seen 'er.'

'Who?' asked Lind intently.

'Win...red,' whispered his father. 'She is luv..ly.' 'Luv..ly,' he whispered almost for emphasis.

Lind squeezed gently on his father's withered hand and asked him to please rest. His father had more to say. 'She saw...Je..Je..sus.' 'She is coming.......for me.' Then a gentle, brief smile formed on his lips.

That was the last the Ian spoke to Lind. He quit breathing shortly there after. Oddly, he hadn't asked for the priest to come one last time. Lind wondered what it meant that his father had seen his mother and that she was coming for him. And what did it mean that she had seen Jesus. Surely, he thought, this illness was not brought on by wickedness.

Lind dug another grave next to Winifred's on the grounds of All Saints'. He hoped that someday he'd be able to afford a stone with their names engraved, but for now, a wooden marker would have to do.

The death of his father and mother meant that Lind could move his family into his father's cottage. The cottage was nicer than the small quarters that they had been living in just outside the village and the cottage was closer to the village and to the church. It also meant that Lind's wife, Gleda, no longer had to carry water from the stream. She could easily visit the village well instead. This was a wonderful thing for her as it meant that she no longer had to carry water so far. Lind and Gleda waited until the illness was gone from the towne before they moved into the cottage.

The illness had been such a sever blow to the village that nearly every family had been affected in some way. Most had lost a family member. Lind didn't like to think about it, but the plague had also been a good thing for his family. They now had a cottage of their own far sooner than they might have otherwise. The farm was entirely his. Without the plague, he would have been required to find his own land to farm. That wouldn't be easy since most of the land was already leased from Saint Leonard's Priory or from Lord Burghley. After the plague there was ample land to lease and at a better price. The devastation of the plague though was horrible to watch as families were removed from the land when their husbands and fathers died and the lease could no longer be paid. Such poor creatures were turned off the land that they had been on for generations and were left to beg or to make do as best they could. So, despite the bitterness of losing his father and his mother, Lind's situation had improved greatly on account of the plague. These mixed feelings did cause him to feel ashamed before God.

Lind and Gleda had been married now for five years. They had one child, a boy that they called Bromley and now Gleda was with child again. The prospect of the added responsibility of feeding and clothing another human being weighed heavily on Lind. He had always been a jovial sort, but with the plague and the loss of his parents and now the prospect of an addition to the family, his shoulders were already starting to slump a little and his temples had a hint of gray. Gleda on the other hand was joyous at the news of the new baby.

On the day that they finally were able to move into the cottage the priest from All Saints' paid them a visit. This wasn't to be a social call however, he was on business. He had brought with him a bundle and placed it in Gleda's arms.

'Gud dee to you, Father', greeted Gleda. 'Whot's this then?'

Father Patrick kicked the dirt at his feet and shifted his weight as though he had something to say that he just couldn't bring himself to say. ' 'is name is Richard,' he managed.

'Aye, I do nay care whot 'is name is,' offered Lind, 'whot is 'e doing 'ere?'

'Truth is that 'is mother deed and 'is father can nay care for 'im, so 'e left 'im with me. I need to find 'im a 'ome.'

'You can nay leave 'im 'ere,' protested Lind, 'Can you nay see that I 'ave enuf mouths to feed already?'

'Aye, boot 'e is lit'le and with Gleda's wee one combin' soon, she will 'ave plen'hy of milk for two wee ones. Surely, this is God's will.'

'I do nay know anythin' aboot God's will. Was it God's will that 'is mother deed?' stated Lind.

Gleda, who had already peered into the eyes of the infant, felt that it indeed was God's will. 'Lind,' she said quietly, 'Surely it is God's will. Luk at 'im. 'e will nay be a burden. 'e will nay even eat for sevrul munths. We shall 'ave a crop by then. Do you feel it, Lind?'

Lind knew that he was not going to be successful with any protestations, so he decided to look for the first time into the eyes of the child. As he did, his heart softened and he too felt that it was God's will.

'God bless this 'ouse,' said Father Patrick as he left through the gate. He seemed much lighter on his feet and his countenance was lifted.

Gleda and Lind took Richard into their family and cared for him as their own. Gleda's milk began to flow and Richard began to thrive. Bromley loved the prospect of having a little brother. Within a fortnight Gleda lost her waters. Lind was in the fields planting.

'Bromley!' cried Gleda. 'Ruun and fetch me midwife, Mrs. Reilly. 'urry lad.' Bromley ran as fast as he could up Church Street, past the Bake House to High Street. There he found Mrs. Reilly at the Swan Inn. Lind was already in from the fields when Mrs. Reilly arrived at the cottage. 'You must wait outseed,' she instructed Lind as she went in to see Gleda.

Gleda was already pushing hard and crying out in pain. Lind took Richard in his arms and Bromley by the hand and went across the lane to the church to pray. Mrs. Reilly went about her work with the efficiency that her years of experience had given her.

'You must nay push, me luv, it is too airly.' But, the pushing had already been done and Mrs. Reilly could see the top of a little head.

It seemed like hours, but soon Mrs. Reilly was at the church and called them home. 'Comb and see your girl,' she said to Lind. 'Comb and see your sister,' she invited Bromley.

Lind put aside the cares of the world for a moment as he gave thanks in his heart for the care of God on his family.

Gleda was weak, but had done well. She would recover and wee Richard was placed at her side along with a new little girl. Gleda smiled with contentment, almost as though she had already forgotten her travail.