by Allan Frost
‘Walter gave him several gifts, all discovered while on his travels. It wasn’t until two or three weeks after Walter had departed to visit Queen Bess that he realised the potato was for eating and the tobacco for smoking. Caused some merriment, as you can imagine.’ He chuckled.
‘Sir Augustus, I feel we should get on with today’s proceedings, if you don’t mind. You were about to say?’
Augustus glanced around to make sure he still had everyone’s rapt attention. At that moment, Strubble regained consciousness, managed to heave himself back onto his seat, saw the ghost looking directly at him and promptly passed out again.
Bleak, on the other hand, sat with a hand clutching his brow. This was supposed to have been a straightforward hearing, not a time for family reminiscences.
With the back of one hand resting on the pommel of his sword and the other outstretched in the style of a reciting poet, Augustus prepared to address the court. He loved speaking to a captive and attentive audience, although the last time he’d done so had been quite a long while ago and he felt a little rusty.
‘I shall be as brief as possible,’ he began. ‘But there is much to tell if I am to satisfy your curiosity.’
Oh, good! thought Sir Cedric. I’ve already missed my Bridge but Cynthia being held in the cells for a while longer will more than compensate!
He put Cynthia’s predicament and the abandoned Bridge session out of his mind and sat back in his chair to listen carefully to what the ghost had to say.
‘My father William was a wealthy wool merchant,’ began Sir Augustus Wilton, deceased. ‘He was also a staunch Catholic. Towards the end of his life he made friends with some untrustworthy and unsavoury people. I harboured strong suspicions that they were involved in a conspiracy of some sort, although I had no proof, nor did I know who else was involved with any certainty.
‘I began to realise something important was being planned when my father had alterations made to the Lodge. The building hadn’t been there many years, so why incur unnecessary addional expense, especially as he loathed spending money? To build a secret chamber in which to hide his guests, including itinerant priests, from the authorities, that’s why.
‘Good Queen Bess had spies everywhere and harbouring religious recusants, especially Catholics, was an extremely serious offence. It was tantamount to treason and often led to execution and confiscation of property. My father’s own beliefs were tolerated provided he attended one service a year, with all his family and servants, at the newly-designated Anglican church in Priorton. He forced my brother Giles and myself to swear an oath that we would never disclose the Lodge’s secret, under pain of death or disownment.’
Tim scribbled notes as fast as he could. This was fascinating stuff!
‘As I said earlier, I was more inclined to the Protestant faith: as far as I’m concerned, God is God and the methods we use to worship him are unimportant. But my father and brother were not of the same opinion. Giles was a wastrel, always in debt, always wanting the latest inventions and playthings and constantly drunk.
‘I suppose he was very unhappy after our mother’s passing. Father didn’t approve of his wanton and selfish behaviour and swore he would die before he left him anything in his Will. Odd turn of phrase, but that’s what he said. Nor was there any love lost between Giles and myself, so my brother had plenty of warning to seek his fortune elsewhere, even before our father died.
‘I fell hopelessly in love with a beautiful young woman by the name of Elizabeth Hoy, daughter of the village innkeeper. Of course, we had to keep our trysts secret from everyone in case my father found out. Then Elizabeth got pregnant. Not sure when or how it happened but I vaguely recall enjoying a visit from a band of itinerant minstrels at about that time. Anyway, we called the child William, after my father, although he never knew. A few years later, Jane was born. Jane was Elizabeth’s mother’s name. Both children were brought up in the Protestant faith.
‘As far as the village was concerned, Elizabeth had, like so many girls, got into trouble by an inability to control her wanton behaviour, especially at the inn. The truth, of course, was that she was one of the most loving, faithful and caring people I ever had the pleasure and good fortune to meet.’
‘Yes!’ exclaimed Sarah, unable to keep quiet any longer.
‘Kindly do not interrupt, Madam,’ admonished Augustus. ‘You’ll ruin the flow! It has been quite some time since I have had the opportunity to speak in public! A little consideration would not go amiss!
‘To continue. It was very difficult keeping all this from my family. Elizabeth’s parents knew and promised never to reveal the truth. They were, after all, tenants on my father’s estate and could be dismissed on a whim. My mother died, then my father. Not long after his death, I received a letter from Mr Catesby, one of father’s dubious acquaintances. Apparently, father had agreed to collect a shipment of goods from Bristol docks.
‘Against my better judgement, I agreed to keep the appointment. And, because I had severe doubts about the legality of the venture, I told no one and decided to collect the consignment myself. In those days, it wasn’t wise to put your trust in anyone, especially not your servants whose integrity could be bought with the mere promise of a shilling. In fact, that was why I dismissed the Lodge keeper shortly after my father was buried; I discovered he was turning a blind eye when his friends came to steal my sheep.
‘I told Giles I was going away for a few days with Elizabeth. We had a blazing row when I told him about her and the children. He was most upset, partly because of his ignorance of the whole affair, partly because she was a Protestant but mainly because he would have to leave the estate and find another source of income. The prospect of him sharing the same roof as my love and living off me was abhorrent.
‘Does that satisfy your curiosity, good Sir?’ he asked Sir Cedric, who was about to reply when Tim interrupted.
‘What happened next?’
‘Oh, don’t mind me!’ muttered the judge. He waved his hand dismissively. ‘Continue as you please!’
XV
Augustus bowed again.
‘I shall now relate the circumstances surrounding my demise . . .’
As he spoke, the courtroom filled with a thick dream-like mist. Everyone present seemed to be transported through successive swirls into scenes from the past, as if they were actually there, witnessing events for themselves. Tim couldn’t help thinking it reminded him of a 360-degree cinema screen where the action took place all around. But this was different, somehow far more realistic, as if he, Sarah and the others were bystanders.
‘My father William was a wealthy merchant and obsessively aware of his position in Elizabethan society. You already know about his religious beliefs which, understandably, made him a deeply suspicious person. He felt persecuted by the queen’s network of ministerial spies and expected the authorities to arrest him at any time on trumped-up charges of sedition. To my knowledge, he was honest and loyal to the monarch’s secular authority but did not believe she had the right to head the church in England.
‘Nevertheless, he chose to openly support the new Protestant order yet secretly continued to practice Roman Catholicism within the confines of the hidden chapel at Priorton Hall. In those dangerous days, religious opinions were seldom voiced except among trusted friends, but even they could be bought or tortured. No one was safe, even after Scottish Catholic James acceded to the English throne when Queen Bess died.
‘It was within this environment that I grew up. I was quite happy to play the game. I was a good son, respectful of my parents and their wishes and never gave a thought to questioning their wisdom or authority. Until I met Elizabeth.
‘It had been a chance meeting at one of the fairs held outside the church at Priorton. Father wouldn’t normally attend such common events but felt obliged, on this occasion, by way of acknowledging the village’s thanks for his generosity in providing it with a new market hall and court house. The previous one, nothing m
ore than a ramshackle timber hut, had burnt down and almost set the whole village alight a few months earlier. Father’s hall was much more impressive.
‘Whereas markets were held every Sunday, when farming families throughout the district attended church and took the opportunity to meet friends and buy and sell their wares, fairs were only held four times a year and attracted merchants from far away as well as travelling troubadors and other entertainers.
‘Each fair lasted from three to five days, depending on the season. Father found them distasteful to his ordered way of life, yet appreciated the way they lifted the spirits of ordinary mortals. However, from his jaundiced point of view, he saw them as breeding grounds for corruption and immoral activity, where the queen’s agents could conduct discreet enquiries while appearing to befriend people from the village.
‘I first clapped eyes on Elizabeth during a night of revelry at the Priorton Arms which, incidentally, acquired that name after my father built Priorton Hall. Before then, the former Priory, having been purchased from King Henry VIII, had been the family home but, for reasons which were never discussed, proved unsuitable. The Priorton Arms became a place for accommodating servants whose visiting masters stayed at the Hall.
‘Elizabeth was waiting at tables and, to my drink-sodden mind, seemed to be flirting with me. Her bright, dark eyes and coquettish smile spurred on the lust in my loins. But, try as I might to attract her attention, she skillfully avoided my clumsy attempts to seduce her.
‘To my immature and selfish mind, she became the plaything I wanted more than anything else in the world. Her beauty stirred feelings in my heart and loins the like of which I had never had the misfortune to suffer. I found her denials unacceptable; I was, after all, the son of her father’s master and should, by rights, have realised she was nothing more than the mere daughter of a tenant and, by virtue of such a lowly position, obliged to succumb to my wishes.
‘But not Elizabeth. She was not a bit like the other girls, tempted to stray and forego virtue for the sake of a few moments of passion. I became a frequent visitor at the inn and made a point of going there when trade was slow and the public room empty. I tried offering her bribes, promises of purses full of money, but Elizabeth would not be bought.
‘Even now, I believe her chastity is what changed my whole attitude to the fairer sex; she made me realise love and sexual favours are not things to be taken lightly. She ceased to be an object of lustful intent but rather an individual with whom I wished to spend the rest of my life.
‘I wrote her poems, gave her flowers from the hedgerow. I desperately wanted her as a close friend, despite how my father was likely to react because of her staunch religious convictions and humble background. In short, I loved her.
‘The frustrations and disappointments of thwarted attempts to win her favour eventually paid off. Looking back, it was as if she had intentionally kept me waiting, determined to change my selfish ways and make me a better person. All I can say is that I hope she was right and her patience was worth the effort.
‘Yet, even after our first tryst, during which we ambled along the banks of the Tricklebrook on the north side of Priorton (well away from the Hall and my father’s eyes), she showed remarkable consideration towards his wishes and feelings. As time sped idyllically by, she could have made demands and caused my family untold trouble. But no, Elizabeth did not wish me to lose my promised inheritance nor cause a rift between myself and my father, in spite of there being no guarantee that she would benefit in the long term.
‘She demanded nothing except my love and affection, which I was, of course, eager to give. So much so that we began getting careless. The results were our children William and Jane.
‘An unmarried mother still living with her own parents was, I have to shamefully admit, a common occurrence in those days; human nature being what it is, I doubt very much the situation has changed over the years. I had come to admire Elizabeth’s parents and still hold them in very high regard. They could so easily have ruined everything, told my father and demanded money from him for their grandchildren’s support and maintenance, or thrown Elizabeth out to fend for herself. But they didn’t.
‘They seemed to regard me as a wayward son, yet still worthy of affection and tolerance. Of course, I supported my children and their mother as best I could but felt guilty at having to pay sneak visits and leave them at night when my father expected me to return home. But we managed, despite wagging tongues and meaningful glances. I imagine the villagers felt more respect for Elizabeth and her parents than they ever did for me.
‘Gossip became ever more ripe and scurrilous after the birth of our second child, Jane. It was as if the whole village was holding its breath, anticipating a thunderous reaction from my father when, as opposed to if, he discovered the truth. My brother Giles believed I had a secret but, fortunately, was despised by everyone in Priorton for his lack of morals and high-handed attitude, so he never discovered what it was until I told him. He was livid.
‘I told him the day after father was buried alongside our mother. Giles and I were not close, by any means. Our mother had spoiled him and father found it caused less upset just to let him have his own way. Now that I was in full control of the estate, I didn’t relish the prospect of supporting such wasteful behaviour or throwing money into a bottomless pit, for he had little concept of its value or worth. I told him I was shortly to visit Bristol to fulfil father’s obligations and would return to Priorton Hall to live with my beloved Elizabeth and our two children.
‘It is difficult to reason with a man under the influence of drink. I promised I would give him a generous allowance with which to find his own way in the world and make a new life and that there was no longer a place for him at Priorton Hall.
‘I had expected Giles to become foulmouthed and abusive but I hadn’t considered how badly he might take this ultimatum. He swore to have his revenge and destroy Elizabeth and our children. The only safe course was to take Elizabeth with me to Bristol and to make sure William and Jane were kept safely out of the way until our return. Elizabeth made her parents promise to look after them.’
The mist in the courtroom swirled again, as if to indicate a change of scene; it cleared and the Lodge appeared. It looked exactly the same as in the 1602 sketch at Priorton Hall.
‘We set off for Bristol,’ continued Augustus.
A horse-drawn covered wagon passed in front of the Lodge and through the exit of the drive into the lane beyond. The wagon was driven by Augustus. Elizabeth, who bore more than a passing resemblance to Sarah, sat happily by his side.
‘We were looking forward to spending time together, away from cares and responsibilities. And Giles, of course! The journey took several uncomfortable, yet blissfully happy days . . .’
The wagon bounced and jostled uncomfortably along deep-rutted, muddy roads. Trees and tall hedgerows blocked the view from time to time. There were very few roadside dwellings, and those that did pass slowly by seemed more like thatched-roofed hovels than homes. Nevertheless, drably-dressed peasants ran out to meet the wagon, offering warm ale and bread and cheese in exchange for a few pence in an effort to supplement meagre income.
The amount of traffic on these poorly maintained roads was minimal, to say the least, except on the outskirts of larger villages and towns like Bridgnorth, Kidderminster and Worcester, when drovers herding cattle, sheep, goats and pigs, and farm workers pushing barrows laden with vegetables or boxes containing chickens to market, blocked the road for several minutes at a time.
The markets themselves were conducted in a very haphazard fashion; traders set up makeshift stalls wherever they liked, livestock stood huddled together in the most confined, filthy places awaiting sale. Impoverished locals badgered merchants and farmers, desperately seeking work while standing for hours on end outside public houses and inns.
As at Priorton and all English towns and villages of the period, market days were occasions for great enjoyment, especially if a
ttended by travelling minstrels and acrobats, conjurors and mummers; they were not solely for the buying and selling of produce. Elizabeth loved to join in the fun, singing along to popular songs and dancing across the dusty streets with complete strangers.
Augustus, having been raised in a completely different, very formal, environment initially found it more difficult to let his lordly hair down but, with Elizabeth’s cajoling and encouragement, gradually became more relaxed and joined in the entertainment, even to the point of accompanying a lute player in a rendition of Greensleeves, a somewhat racy song supposedly written by the long dead King Henry VIII.
Ale, naturally, played an important part in enhancing merriment but not, oddly enough, to the point of total inebriation or incapacity. Even children drank a weaker version of the national beverage, solely because it was purer than natural supplies of water. Masters of households such as that at Priorton Hall were obliged to ensure everyone employed by them received a daily allowance of this essential commodity as well as an equally important quota of bread.
Elizabeth had the ability to make everyone, from whatever walk of life or their social standing, feel utterly at ease, an invaluable attribute acquired by observing how her parents treated patrons at the Priorton Arms. It was an aspect of her character that Augustus found so endearing. He, feeling truly happy and unfettered by the constraints imposed by civilised society for the first time in his life, had a wonderful time buying items like a new hat and cape for Elizabeth from street vendors.
And so they continued their journey. By the time the wagon approached the outskirts of Cheltenham, Elizabeth still showed no signs of exhaustion even after several days of slow, tedious and uncomfortable travel. She was deeply in love and enthralled by the sights and sounds of the beautiful English countryside.
She was also amazed to see how different other parts of the country looked and reflected on her good fortune. Very few people were granted the opportunity to travel more than a few miles from their own village during the whole of their lifetime, a fact which made her appreciate Augustus all the more.