by Leah Fleming
Even after all these years my heart winces at that memory. It is still a raw wound easily opened but the truth is plain. I had neither strength or courage to take my bed and walk his way. Prison and suffering had weakened me, softened me to the will of my precious beliefs. To betray their trust, kindness and generosity never entered my head. It would be like betraying my parents. I was wary of the world outside my community; a country lass in a busy town still. I needed protection and Friends needed my hands to help them survive another dose of prison. I must be faithful to my chosen people, to the light within which flickered for a moment with temptation and blazed with certainty. How was I to know if it was a false dawn or not.
My heart ached for all his compliments and smooth words. He had made no firm promises. If I walked his way there would be no surety of him honouring his intentions to court me. He might woo me and then take Abel’s daughter, leaving me spoiled, ruined and without virtue. I might be left with child, abandoned. I didn’t know the man, only the raw youth of my imaginings. We were little more than children and I wanted a marriage of minds one day, not conflict. He was not Providence’s choice for me. I must stay faithful and await that choice with patience; but why did loving hurt so much?
I stood on the Brig peering deep into the dark waters with tears dripping on my nose. Once again this Seeker was bearing public testimony to suffering of her own making. I brushed away the tears and sped on my way home. Thank God that there’s always comfort in busyness and the thought of preparing baskets of food for the prisoners, broth for the children and Tabitha and taking up Ellinor’s spinning.
No time to dwell on what might have been. It was time to step forward and trust that my future must lie elsewhere: perhaps beside the wide blue river of my dreams.
16
If I have skipped and jumped over events following that parting with Miles Foxup in my account, it is not from laziness or lightness of spirit. Far from it, for in turning my face away from him towards the busyness of Riverbank affairs, there was no time to dwell on what might have been between us.
Not an hour went by in those first weeks but I tortured myself with thoughts of him, turning each conversation over and over like butter that would not set in the churn. How I hankered to make some excuse to write and see if he could ease the sufferings of the Friends who filled the jail awaiting their hearing. It was not fair to make him work on our behalf without some warmth and recognition from me.
Such was the grief around me that there was no time for such temptations.
Tabitha’s baby was born early and lived but a few hours, but worse was to follow when his mother caught the childbed fever and went to her Heavenly reward early. Zeph was still in prison but compassion was granted that he might attend to her funeral. He was in a maze like a walking skeleton and needed nourishment.
The children were bereft and clung to my skirts. I tried to be motherly and run the household as she would have wished. How could I ever think of deserting them at such a time with vain and selfish lusts?
I thought our sadness would never end. John Holt was sick in prison and only the singing and encouragement of the other Friends kept his heart beating. Samuel did his best to keep the cloth rolling from the looms but the removal of his own loom was a blow.
One night there was a bang on the door and we thought the constable was up to his old tricks again. I lifted the latch with caution only to find dear Friends carrying in pieces of our loom that they had re-purchased on our behalf. What lanterns of hope on a dark, dark night they were. I was learning even then that he who is faithful in much is rewarded in much.
It worried me that Zeph took to sitting slumped by the fireside in a deep reverie. Sometimes his speech was slurred and his mind not on spiritual matters, which caused concern among the elders who took it in turns to visit him without warning to observe his behaviour. They say that an angry mind leads even a believer away from the fear of God. If that unruly spirit took hold it would lay waste all that was once in full bloom like the blight in our kale patch.
How cold a hearth can get when the mistress of the house has departed. I missed her presence giving me orders from her bedside, her quiet acceptance of bodily infirmity.
Ellinor was busy trying to coax her father back to health, nursing him through his final illness. She stood at her wheel without enthusiasm, pacing back and forth. Even the children’s prattle could not lift her sadness. I wept at John’s funeral for he was the last link to my parents. We were both truly orphaned now.
The silence of meeting was a great solace to me once I could settle into it and not be distracted by the hundred and one jobs I must attend to. Once or twice I felt moved to rise from the bench to bare my thought but I have no recollection of what I said that brought comfort to others in their trials.
The only time I do recall was asking for leave to become a travelling minister in the service of Truth. I was gently rebuked and told my duty as an indentured servant was to the Webster household until such time as I was free to be released.
‘The time is not right for you to go wandering at your will, Rejoice,’ said Martha Houldsworth with a glance that would wither a grape shoot on the vine.
However, events will take their own turn, I have found. The atmosphere at Riverbank changed as slowly Zeph’s spirit started to rise like bread dough after a knock back. Just a cheerful glance at first, his hair combed back, a clean neck band, shoulders straightened, a heartier appetite.
He praised me for keeping the chambers tidy and freshly strewn, the rush lights ready and the linen pressed as Tabitha would have wished.
‘Thee teaches my children better than any schoolmaster,’ he smiled, examining their efforts to make letters and read texts. ‘Thou art a talented vessel.’ I blushed at his words, not used to such praise.
After supper we would sit awhile and I caught him glancing in my direction with a look that soon turned my pleasure to wormwood and gall.
‘It was a good day when the Lord brought you to this door, Joy.’ He had never used my familiar name before and I scuttled about my business blushing while Sam, who misses nothing, laughed.
‘I think old Zeph has a hankering for a new wife. You’d better watch out for he’s casting his net in thy direction.’
‘Don’t be daft!’ I snapped but my hands were shaking at such a notion. He was old enough to have been my father, had he lived. His hair was almost white, his shoulders stooped. Surely he didn’t think that I would be relieved to take the mistress’s place?
Why ever not, some might say? I was young and full of vim about my chores. I knew his offspring as well as if I’d been their mother. The mistress’s routines were now my own. If he took me as his wife there would be nothing to change. It would be as if Tabitha had never left us. In time I would bear him more children and his household would be secure.
The very thought of his embrace was making me shudder. I was not ready to be a substitute for his old wife or any other. I took comfort in the thought that before he might address me on the matter he would have to approach the meeting and the women’s meeting first to ask their approval. If he dared declare feelings to me before then, his campaign would be lost before it began.
What if he got their consent? What if they expected my joy at such an arrangement, thinking I would be relieved to be raised in station to be a cloth merchant’s bride? The very thought of such an outcome was enough to make me puke.
Matters flared up one evening when all the children were abed and Samuel was at his work, Ellinor was visiting old Widow Parry and we were alone once more. He was sipping his berry ale too quickly for my liking and muttering to himself.
‘It is not good for a man to be without a wife too long . . . Children need a mother, the house needs a keeper. It is well nigh seven months since poor Tabitha departed for her reward. She is happy now and at peace. She would surely want me to take another as a helpmeet and companion, methinks.’ His eyes were shining, glassy with drink. There was no time to los
e if I was to gain the advantage here.
‘I’m sure the Lord will guide thee in the fullness of time in the right direction. You must pray to him for a sign,’ I replied, burying my head in the darning patch of stocking.
‘Perhaps he has already,’ he smiled lurching forward as if to grab my hand but all he got was the stocking and the needle’s edge.
‘It’s getting late.’ I stood up to put distance between us. ‘Ellinor and I must make an early start if we are to gather baskets of comforts for the last of the prisoners.’
‘Thee’s a good lass with a warm heart and fine stature. What if the Lord were guiding you in the same direction,’ he sighed.
‘Mercy me, see how the candle drips down! I must away to my bed. There must be many a widow who would look favourably in thy direction, given the nod,’ I said in a brisk voice, hoping he would take the hint. ‘Someone of your own age who knows what it is to lose a helpmeet; Widow Barker is lonely soul.’
‘I’m not surprised, with a voice like a beast in labour,’ he said, smiling at his little joke.
‘Don’t be uncharitable,’ I replied coolly, knowing he was right but she was the best I could come up with on the spur of the moment.
‘Then there’s Friend Isaiah’s daughter who has never wed . . .’ No more faces would come to me in my panic.
‘Perhaps it’s time you were wed.’
‘No, not at all,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘You know my heart is set on the travelling ministry with Ellinor Holt.’
‘She’s too skinny for my taste,’ he said, still thinking about his own matter and not listening to mine. ‘Like a willow reed, I fear. She would not survive a bairn in her belly.’
‘Zephaniah Webster, shame for talking of my dearest friend in such a manner! I will not be party to such unruly talk. ’Tis the ale pot nonsense. It is unseemly to talk of such affairs without the meeting’s approval,’ I snapped, wanting to warn him.
‘Stay awhile, Joy, I find company eases my sorrow.’
‘Only the Lord can ease thy sorrow. Call on him for a sign or call on him to help you resist the temptation of strong drink. This is not holy conversation between good Friends.’ I left him to stew on my harsh words.
For days afterwards I dare not so much as look in his direction for fear of a repeat performance of his silliness. It no longer felt right to stay under his roof for fear of being accosted with further intimacies. Yet I was reluctant to share the matter with the meeting. I owed Zeph some chance to redeem himself.
‘What should I do?’ I asked Ellinor, pouring out all my troubles into her lap as usual. She smiled and carried on her spinning, weighing her words before she spoke, waiting upon inner guidance to prompt her reply.
‘Fret not and just go about your business as normal. Whatever they say about us Friends, we know how to conduct marital matters in a civil manner. Without your consent, he cannot prevail and from what’s been said, he has already shot his bolt in the wrong direction in addressing you first.’
‘How can I live under the same roof with him? I’m afeared for my honour. A new wife won’t want me under her feet either.’
‘Then come and stay with me and be unhindered until such matters are resolved.’ She smiled to see my relief. ‘There, all that worry biting for nothing. There’s allus a way forward with faith,’ she chided me for my lack of trust.
If I lived close by Riverbank there could be no argument. Perhaps I might grow to be more like her, given time and her constant example. Then perchance the idea of us both travelling in the ministry would be acceptable to our meeting.
‘It would be a good venture for us both to travel side by side,’ I confided to her. She sighed, nodding her head.
‘The Lord hath laid on my heart that is time to work in his vineyard. Something draws my mind to a sea crossing and being of service in the wilderness colonies but something else tells me that can never be.’
‘Now who’s being faint-hearted?’ I replied. ‘I’ve always dreamt of this big broad river far away. Perhaps that means a sea crossing for me too. Together we could run errands, serve, teach, find work. I feel no call to warm Zeph Briggs’ cold bed . . . Oh, please don’t let the women persuade me otherwise.’
‘There must be a way forward in this for both of us since we’re of the same mind. Let’s lay the whole matter again before the elders and trust in Providence to soften their hearts towards the idea,’ said she with a twinkle in her eye – the first I’d seen there for many a month.
17
Nothing is done amongst Friends without deep discussion. The matter is chewed over like cows at grass. There must be harmony and a unity towards the decision. All who feel moved to speak must have their say. Whether or not we would be granted certificates to become travelling ministers in the district was not ours to take. I was impatient for the matter to be resolved quickly in my favour, but nothing in my life has ever been won with ease.
‘Here be two young women, not in bondage to the spirit of this frail world, not carried away by frothy doctrines and vanity; a spinster and a servant they may be but both were faithful children of believing parents and sufferers. Let it not be said in this meeting that we discourage our youth in the ways of service. They must spend their powers in service to the generation to come wheresoever they may be found. It is my hope that we will all agree in this matter,’ said Friend Isaiah, speaking on our behalf before the assembly.
‘But Friend Moorside is still beholden to her master and must work out her time in his service. She has wandered far from her first meeting. Who is to say she will take another fancy and gad abroad again? My wife and I see no evidence of quietness within,’ replied Timothy Houldsworth, eyeing me closely to see how I would respond.
My heart was racing with fury at the unfairness of his comments but I sat in meekness, not even shaking my head. This was too important a matter to give way to emotion.
‘But Friend, this is the girl who hath the gift of prophesy. Did she not warn the constable when he disturbed our meeting that he was in mortal danger for his cruel deed? Was not the very man then found buried deep in ice in the last great snows, his eyes picked clean by ravens and his flesh rotting after the melting? God brought down a righteous judgement on his evil ways. Hath she not stood in the silence and offered comfort in her words of late, making testimony of her faith? Who are we to deny her gifts and obstruct her willingness to commit her life in this way?’
I dare not turn round to see who was speaking on my behalf.
The hearing was so quick for Ellinor’s permission. Who could deny that she had a true calling? But she was no longer indentured and free to travel. I would have to be released from my duties by Zeph and he was still hankering after finding a wife close to home. He might be in no mood to let me go.
‘Beware of false humility,’ Timothy Houldsworth argued. ‘We know only too well that some have professed such gifts in times past, but walked only after the devices of their own hearts, to our sorrow and the discomfort of our purses. How can we be sure our sister here will walk in the Truth without wavering? Has she inner quiet or not, is my question. There has already been some intransigence over the matter of the gauntlets she refuses to abandon, so my wife tells me.
‘If not restrained, might not her disobedient spirit lay waste any good intentions? Is she to be trusted? Are the walls of her faith strong enough to avoid temptation?’
How dare he, I seethed! Another who loved the sound of his own voice. He was provoking them to division not harmony. There had been a case of one young servant who had received a certificate to preach around the district and make a collection for the poor and needy. Sadly she had proved to be unreliable, tempted by a worldly man and together they had absconded, taking the purse of silver with them in order to be married by a priest in a steeple-church.
Her parents were sitting on the back bench of the meeting in disgrace and shame, trying to repay what was stolen from their own meagre wages. It was not for me to speak in t
heir defence or in defiance but I felt the words forming in my throat, stirred up by an old memory, and I rose to my feet to take the floor.
‘If I might just say a word on this matter: I am grateful to Friend Timothy for reminding me that on the day of my birth, on that sad day when my parents yielded up their own lives so I might live and gave me the name Rejoice, so bad was the storm that all the walls of the pastures fell down in protest. This event was taken by all who saw it, I am told, to be a sign, whether for good or ill.
‘ “She’ll be trouble,” warned one old sage but my uncle Windebank refuted them sternly saying, “Trouble she may cause but not to the faithful. She is destined to pull down old ways, bring others to truth and storm all obstacles in her way: a very Joshua in heart.” That’s all I have to say on the subject of walls,’ I added, sitting down promptly as a titter of amusement rustled on the benches.
‘May your words be ever as sharp a sword blade in His service, Friend. I see no reason to deny thee a chance to serve as other women have before. May thee be like a fenced city, a sturdy wall against all oppressors, a wall not to be prevailed against. Let no man despise the exhortations of youth. We need young women of plain apparel and lowly circumstance to speak out against all the temptations and foolish fashions of the world that so entrap our sons and daughters,’ said Friend Horner in my defence. I could have hugged him, for his words would carry much weight amongst the wavering few left in the chamber.
It was agreed that under strict supervision the two of us would be knotted together within a band of ministers, prepared for the task by our elders and escorted around the district to visit weekday and First Day Meetings as a trial of our suitability; and that the matter would be raised again at a further meeting.