Children of Fire

by Paul CW Beatty

  She fetched the washing basket from inside. ‘The clothes lines are round the corner,’ she said when she came back. Josiah took the basket from her and followed her out of the courtyard. In a paddock beyond a gate several lines of washing were already hanging to dry.

  They started to peg out the contents of the basket. ‘Are you travelling to anywhere in particular, Josiah?’

  ‘No, I’m footloose.’ He groaned inwardly as the words came out flat and rather forced.

  ‘So if there was work to be done here for a few days, you could stay?’

  ‘Is there any work?’

  ‘We’re hay making. We are in great need of extra help. Although it looks that it’s going to be fine for the next few days you can never really tell up here in the hills.’

  ‘Do you pay well?’

  ‘No,’ she laughed, ‘but we’ll feed you, give you a comfortable bed in the barn and send you back on your road with our prayers and blessings when you leave. Are you interested?’

  Josiah took the time to try look as though he was thinking it over. If he had not been under orders from Mr Prestbury and free to take himself off leaving these people in peace, he would have done it. ‘It is very tempting, Sister Rachael. This is a wonderful spot and I am in great need of a peaceful place to think things through.’ Whatever else were lies, there was the truth, voiced despite his intent.

  ‘I should warn you that even if you decided that you want to stay for a while it will not be my decision whether that happens; that will be up to our leader, Brother Elijah. He and the rest of the community will be in from the fields in a few minutes for some food. Stay, eat, wait a little to meet more of us, before you make up your mind.’

  When the basket was empty, she asked if he’d mind taking in some other washing that had already dried, while she went back and tidied up the washhouse.

  The wet washing had been general household laundry but the dry washing included girls’ dresses, and boys’ cotton shirts and britches. He took the washing back to Rachael who was setting the long table for food. ‘You must have a lot of children in this community,’ he said.

  ‘No, there are no community children.’

  He frowned and looked puzzled. ‘Oh, I see.’

  She laughed. ‘We take in children’s washing for the poorest in the vale. It’s part of our service to our neighbours.’

  There was a scraping of boots at the back door. Then in from the courtyard came a burly man of about thirty. He stopped immediately he saw Josiah.

  ‘And just what would you be doing, if I might ask?’ he said.

  ‘Well timed, Brother Peter. This is Josiah, a traveller looking for work and needing water on his journey. The Holy Spirit has brought him to our door. I’ve bidden him stay for a meal with us and he has been helping me with the washing. I think we might be able to persuade him to stay to help with the haymaking. What do you think?’

  Brother Peter scowled. ‘That will be Brother Bradshawe’s decision and no one else’s.’

  Gradually the other members of the Children of Fire came in from the fields. They were about thirty of them. A mixture of men and women aged from sixteen to fifty or so. The women wore simple printed dresses of various colours and the men the jackets, boots and leggings common to agricultural workers. If there was anything in their dress that marked them out as a religious community Josiah could not see it, unless it was that their clothing had a certain humility about it.

  The last to come in was Brother Elijah Bradshawe. Even with a shirt covered in dust and pieces of hay from the fields, he cut an impressive figure. Over six foot six tall and broad shouldered he looked like a man used all his life to physical labour; though he carried its burden lightly. In his mid-sixties, he was still in the prime of life: hail, hearty and energetic. Unlike the other brothers and sisters, it was easy to see that Brother Elijah was consciously a man of God; his shoulder-length white hair gave him the look of an Old Testament prophet.

  ‘I see we have a stranger within our gates,’ he said to Sister Rachael as he came over to Josiah. ‘Elijah Bradshawe,’ and he enclosed Josiah’s hand in a grip that exuded strength and confidence.

  ‘This is Josiah, Brother Elijah,’ said Rachael. ‘I invited him to eat with us. He is in search of work but uncertain if he should stay with us.’

  ‘Welcome, Josiah,’ said Bradshawe. He looked at him with his head slightly cocked to one side and took his time. Josiah felt that he was being appraised in much the same way as when summoned to his father’s study.

  ‘Well, Sister Rachael, set a place for him near me. I need to get to know anyone the Lord sends us whether he is uncertain of us or not.’

  When all the food was laid out and pitchers of fresh water from the pump put on the table, Elijah took his place at its head. Josiah was placed next to him with Rachael at Josiah’s side, facing Brother Peter. The community stood, held hands round the table and sang the doxology.

  As the prayer was offered, Josiah could feel Rachael’s hand, smooth and soft from the washing. When he opened his eyes at the end of the prayer, he saw a tight-lipped Peter looking straight at him.

  ‘So,’ said Elijah, after bread, cheese and water had been passed round and the meal begun, ‘what has brought you to our door?’

  ‘I suppose it is pure chance.’

  ‘I am afraid, Josiah, you are with people who do not believe in chance. We believe that on a man’s path in life he is perpetually accompanied by providence. The choices he makes shape where he goes and who he meets. So it may seem like chance to you but from our point of view you have been sent to us. Do you agree that the choices people make are really important?’

  How could he not agree? He was acutely aware how choices could change things forever. ‘Yes, I do, Brother. I most certainly do.

  Elijah looked at him steadily. ‘I mean important to God, not just ourselves.’

  ‘Yes, I know the choices we make are important to God as well as ourselves.’ He was conscious how Elijah was drawing from him deeper truths than he wished to reveal. He must remember his objective and guard his tongue. He should put aside his guilt, and focus on the task in hand.

  ‘But I am not yet sure I understand what you believe. I have met many for whom those words would mean different things. I might agree with you and the Children of Fire if I knew more about you.’

  ‘Does that mean you wish to stay to get to know us better?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose it does.’

  ‘I will strike a bargain with you, Josiah. Help us bring in the hay and I will teach you about our beliefs. Is that agreeable to you?’

  ‘I believe it is, Brother Elijah. I believe it is.’ In the crude terms of his mission from Mr Prestbury, he had got over the first obstacle in his way. He was to be admitted to the Children of Fire.

  5

  Theological Discourse

  It was still dark when Josiah found himself being shaken awake by Brother James.

  ‘Wake up, lubber, show a leg,’ he said as he continued to shake Josiah. ‘Breakfast’s in the kitchen but you’ll have to look lively.’

  Josiah dragged himself into his shirt and trousers and staggered over to the farmhouse. He slumped down next to Brother James at table.

  ‘You made it then,’ said James far too cheerfully. ‘Nothing to it really, just like getting up for the middle watch at six bells. It’ll be fine when you’re used to it.’

  Josiah struggled with his conscience as he suppressed some desperately uncharitable thoughts about Brother James. ‘Sailor then?’ was all he managed to grunt.

  ‘Aye, lad, been to sea most of me life. You?’

  ‘Once,’ James looked impressed.

  ‘Which ship?’

  ‘Nothing important. Worked my passage down the south Baltic coast. Never got used to waking up at six bells then either.’

  Flimsy as
the link to the sea was, it developed into a friendship with James which helped Josiah get to know the other members of the community. After three days everyone, except Peter, accepted him and conversations came easily. But he still had to complete the task Mr Prestbury had given him: assess what threat, if any, the Children of Fire were to the Hailsworths and the powder mill. But none of the conversations went deeply enough into the community’s beliefs to be useful to him.

  The exception were the conversations he had with Rachael. Those were more like conversations between old friends which he felt he could think of safely as a pleasant part of his emotional landscape. So, each evening, between the end of the evening meal and prayers, he was drawn to helping her clear up in the kitchen.

  On one evening as Rachael was putting away the washed plates and dishes while Josiah was generally tidying up, she paused in what she was doing. ‘You know you’ve never said the real reason you came here.’

  ‘I am just a traveller, happy to have a few days of rest before getting back on the road.’ He picked up some bowls from the table but as he turned to put in them in a cupboard Rachael stood in front of him and barred his way.

  ‘You don’t expect me to take that at face value, do you?’ she said in mock annoyance. ‘You must think me a very sleepy sort of country girl if you do.’

  Josiah felt he must have missed a nuance in the conversation of the last few moments.

  ‘I am what I seem to be, Sister Rachael. Nothing more.’

  ‘Perhaps, but you are much more learned about the Bible and the teachings of the church than anyone else I have ever met, except Brother Bradshawe. That is hardly the background of any old ne’er do well itinerant traveller.’

  Josiah relaxed a little. ‘Rachael, believe me when I say I really don’t think of you as any sort of sleepy country girl. If I know more about the Bible than you it’s just that I may have had more luck in the past in my education. You are one of the cleverest young women I have ever encountered.’

  She smiled and her eyes widened for an instant. The she turned away from him a took a couple of steps, rather as a partner might in a country dance, before she turned back to face him again.

  ‘And what, pray, most sweet tongued sir, was that education?’

  ‘Grammar school and a home where books were common and reading encouraged.’

  ‘And that Bible knowledge?’

  ‘I was brought up in the Methodist way.’ She looked dissatisfied, in a way that demanded more detail. He hesitated ‘And I have been a preacher of sorts in the past.’

  She grinned in delight and she clapped her hands together like a child who had won a simple parlour game. ‘I knew it! I got it right! Brother Elijah didn’t believe me when I said you’d been something like that. I shall take great pleasure in telling him he was wrong.’ Her attention came back to Josiah.

  ‘So, tell me, mister lapsed Methody preacher, what do you make of what we believe? How does it compare with Methody standards?’

  ‘To be frank, though you’ve all been very friendly, none of you have told me enough for me to judge. What would you say you believe?’

  ‘That is quite a challenge but Brother Elijah says we should all be ready to say what we believe when challenged so I’ll try. We believe that our first priority is not to ourselves but to God and our neighbours. How is that for a start?’

  ‘Very good. So you would agree with what it says in the bible “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind and thy neighbour as thyself”?’

  ‘Yes, I would and so would all of us here at Long Clough.’ She paused. ‘Only there is something more perhaps than that. Not about our duty to God and our neighbour, I don’t doubt that. It’s about the difficulty of what loving means. The actions we take in this community are what define us, not just our beliefs.’

  ‘Actions?’

  ‘I don’t mean dramatic things. Simple things like washing for our neighbours, taking care of the poor in the vale, living in harmony with creation, being at peace with all and friends to all without favour of rank or status.’

  ‘For many that may be easier to say than do. You live in a self-contained community here. Methodist Chapel members are employed in cities and towns, or on farms if they are country folk. They might think you find it easier than they do to take care of their consciences. What would you say if they confessed they got angry with people in the hectic pace and difficulty of what can be a cruel world. They might be more than a little jealous of your privileged position.’

  Rachael laughed. ‘I would say they should try living in a dormitory with Sister Rose when she starts to snore!’

  James’ head appeared in the doorway. ‘You two coming to prayers?’

  ‘Yes,’ Josiah and Rachael said in unison. They finished tidying up and went out towards the chapel.

  As he walked next to her, Josiah thought about what Rachael had said about the beliefs of the community. Nothing he had seen while at Long Clough suggested any reason why Mr Hailsworth should be fearful of the Children of Fire. They might in some ways be considered a more radical sort of church than many; nearer to Primitive Methodists than his own softer and perhaps over comfortable Wesleyan form, but from the point of view of the law, they were essentially a peaceful group.

  His only uncertainty surrounded Brother Elijah. He had not got to know Elijah as well as he had hoped, nor as well as Mr Prestbury had instructed him. With time running out, Josiah was thrown back on hoping that what Elijah Bradshawe believed would be clearer after Josiah heard him preach on Sunday.

  6

  A Sunday Sermon

  The Sabbath was a strict day of rest in the community. It began with a prayer meeting in the chapel followed by breakfast. Then the brothers and sisters broke up into small groups to study the Bible.

  In the middle of the day, food was available in the kitchen for those who felt the need of sustenance but there was no community meal. The most devoted and committed members of the community, including Rachael and Peter, fasted in seclusion with Elijah, and helped him prepare for his preaching.

  At noon Peter walked up the path to ring the calling bell next to the great cross. It was a signal to all in earshot that Elijah Bradshawe would preach at two o’clock. Peter pulled on the bell for a good half hour and then returned to the inner circle around Elijah.

  The rest of the community met in the rear courtyard at half past one. They formed into a line two abreast and started towards the track that ran under the face of the cliff. As they went along, they passed people waiting on the roadside. Most were simple folk: small groups of mill workers in their working clothes; farm workers in traditional smocks. But the well-off were there as well, sitting high up in their coaches or standing by horses held by grooms. As the community procession passed, all the onlookers fell in quietly behind them: rich mixed with poor; master with servant; landowner with labourer.

  When they reached the rock, people dispersed and picked suitable places where they would be able to hear and see Elijah. At two o’clock the bell rang again, twelve slow strokes and suddenly Elijah Bradshawe, leader of the Children of Fire, was there on the edge of Pulpit Rock.

  The congregation, including Josiah, gasped. Bradshawe was dressed in a black cassock, with a leather belt at the waist, white tabs and a clerical collar at the neck. Over the cassock was a long-sleeved multicoloured garment. It reminded Josiah of a cloak open at the front but it was fuller and covered the arms in such a way that if the arms were held wide and outstretched the garment would droop down in a semi-circle; it was beautifully embroidered with biblical scenes. There was Christ, preaching to the crowd near the sea of Galilee – probably the Sermon on the Mount. Jesus riding on a very realistic donkey, surrounded by enthusiastic disciples waving branches, represented Palm Sunday. Josiah thought one scene particularly appropriate, John the Baptist preaching by t
he Jordan; like John, Elijah Bradshawe attracted all manner of people.

  His white hair was blown about by the up-draft from the cliff. He was carrying a carved ash staff.

  ‘Peace be with you!’ he roared and the congregation replied instinctively.

  ‘And also with you!’

  ‘Was this what you expected, Josiah?’ Rachael seated herself next to him. Their service done, all the inner group, except Peter, had joined the congregation at the foot of the rock.

  ‘He takes his Christian name more seriously than I had thought,’ said Josiah.

  ‘Oh you mean Elijah. Not really, if he had to pick a name in that way it would be Moses.’

  ‘Does that mean that he’s about to bring us the Law from the top of Mount Sinai?’

  ‘You will have to judge for yourself, Josiah.’

  Again Elijah’s voice rang out. ‘My children!’ Then he raised his hands above his head and looking up to heaven, shaking them violently in exultation. ‘God’s children! For though a few of you have joined me as Children of Fire, all of us are children of God, for we are made in God’s image and likeness.’

  Slowly and dramatically, he brought his hands down and placed both of them on the top of his staff. Leaning forward he spoke in a clear but gentle voice to the congregation. ‘How do we know that we are God’s children?

  An ecstatic voice from a woman to Josiah’s left cried out. ‘Tell us, Brother! Tell us!’

  ‘Fear not, Sister, I will. We know this because at the very beginning of His Holy Bible, God tells us that he created us to be his children. Remember what it says in the twenty-sixth verse of the first chapter of the book of Genesis: “God said, let us make man in our image, after our likeness”.

  ‘But how many of you have taken false solace in that verse? How many of you have clung to it when guilt comes over you for things you have done that you know in your hearts God would not approve, things that are against his will?