Liberi Sursum Coeli

by Mika Paananen

LIBERI SURSUM COELI

  by

  Mika Paananen

  Copyright 2012 Mika Paananen

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  *****

  This small literary piece is pure fiction and for the benefit of traditional gothic horror friends, following the original style of the era. Accordingly some events in this short story are not suitable for little children. Some expressions may look odd to the casual reader but author could not be happier if that leads into some research. Baroque style music is recommended to accompany and perfect the reading experience.

  ~~~~~

  LIBERI SURSUM COELI

  ~~~~~

  During the summer of 1790, it occurred in most convenient of times to vicar Godwinson of Dainsdale--a thin man of five feet and eight, age four-and-sixty with an inadvertent semblance to a raven with his nose and clothing by office--that his parish would be merited by a new proprietor to Scyllaclough Grange; which was under perils of dereliction due former landlord's corrupt ways of life and his passing away as a result. For vicar, the divine intervention was a matter of conjecture. Wealth and peerage of the corrupt baron did little to accomplish anything amidst the dilapidating structures of Grange, its lush forests and moors and least among his peasants; instead he was under inclination to favor his peers and nobles with higher rank in such ways that they completely overlooked his misconduct of duties within his possessions.

  Under these circumstances it was highly digestible that we could find our vicar measuring the landscape, which surrounded the manor mouldering with exuberant growth; and in particular the Jacobean main building itself where recesses between broken bay windows were gradually covered by ivies. Half a score years separated this sepulchral scene from the time vicar Godwinson refused to enter the property; in fear of testifying heathenish rites along the gardens; compared to which the barbaric picts and superstitious druids would seem Fellows of Royal Society; such was the deliberate degradation of position and possession that vicar required an oath from his congregation not to enter Grange property unless exclusively ordered to do so; and in this latter case, minding just their own business. Vicar shuddered upon recollecting of involuntary visitations in Grange; but raising his eyes to the bright sun he turned joyous in expectation of new landlord, about whom he had been in exchange of letters with the bishop of the country: According bishop the new squire--a certain Mr Tollerson--was a gentleman of celestial sciences and deep knowledge; this creating in vicar some anxiety towards newcomer's piety upon his subjects. Vicar's anxiousness upon the matter was so well formed that bishop proclaimed a full page of praise about Mr Tollerson's dignity; good reasoning was also due bishop's knowledge about the figure of previous master at Scyllaclough Grange, as he had been in sacrifice of his own time to write letters of consolation to keep the distressed vicar of Dainsdale in strength and faith. To vicar Godwinson's joy, Mr Tollerson had been much involved within education; this being a natural part of his profession. Vicar Godwinson gave stout credence to the piousness of these mundane prophets; his own being acquired by a rector who was delighted by Newton's proficiency to piousness and explanations of ‘physicks’.

  ~~~~

  Vicar Godwinson's current spot was picked with excellence as he was standing on the east-west passage of trees, the main coach route overlooking the low-situated manor; behind which small hills were rolling around one high which almost hid the forest lines far behind. This particular hill had its own name but vicar Godwinson refrained from spelling it; for it was the most wicked spot of baron's degraded plays with his guests. Without pressing these thoughts further, vicar heard a rumble growing in the distance, then hoofs and wheels were separated and from a road turn galloped a convoy of coaches and smaller carts. Vicar stepped aside removing his hat; and so the new dwellers of Scyllaclough Grange passed him: In the second coach sat the servants, third was loaded with trunks of value, fourth and fifth were carts with more coarse commodities and small furniture. There were two passengers in the first coach: First a noble shadow clearly pressing a cane against coach floor, before the face with concave nose and strong chin giving a conception of great determination and dignity. Next to him was a bit more difficult figure to distinguish but vicar had time enough to note elder feminine features. The convoy advanced past vicar, raising a notable cloud of dust until it turned right and rumbled down the alley flanked by rows of ancient and gigantic trees towards the Grange. Anyone who happened to see the sanguine expression in our vicar's features at that moment, could not go amiss by saying that a face with such content had not been observed between those shoulders during a score of years. Such cheery were the grand expectations towards Mr Tollerson, a scholar and new squire of Scyllaclough Grange.

  ~~~~

  To vicar's great pleasure he witnessed the restoration works at Grange to begin immediately and during his everyday rambles along the road he could hear the commotion of tools and workers. Then, after a fortnight a messenger appeared to gates at vicarage and, after being confirmed about vicar Godwinson's person, he delivered an invitation to dinner at Scyllaclough Grange. Messenger himself was tall and thin with bony facial features, wearing an intriguing mixture of gamekeeper and servant dress; his tone was low but expressions were clear and well-mannered. Vicar could not resist inviting the quest inside but the messenger insisted on returning to his master, 'as the duties continue as ever.' Vicar promptly set the messenger free and returned to his study for further inspection of the letter. It appeared to be a formal invitation to a dinner, indicating also that neither great festivities nor grand parties were to be expected. This was a delight for the vicar for he preferred the pulpit in front of his congregation rather than a seat in great party of higher peerage; not to mention the former landlord's corrupted style. At the agreed evening he turned from the main road to alley leading to Grange, sitting in a carriage driven by sexton McNally; and was thinking exactly his last visit to the doors of Grange. If vicar was shivering, sexton could not tell for he was joining to recollections of the ill times of previous squire. But the grand hill behind the manor remained empty, no ungodly figures dancing around it in accordion with some inhuman drumming, as it had occurred less than a score years ago. Instead the sun was retreating behind the hill, coloring the low clouds with dark gold and yellow, after a moment they would be blood-red. These were the thoughts of vicar and sexton of Dainsdale as they brought the team to halt in shadow of the manor; front doors were promptly opened by a servant and vicar stood down from the carriage, leaving strict instructions to sexton about collecting him in a certain time not afar. Meantime would be spent in an inn by the sexton, this was not unclear to vicar Godwinson but he would spare sexton McNally of any reproach; even vicar himself would not approach the Grange in the dark without some additional substance bringing courage. McNally then rumbled around the yard fountain and up away, to appear alighted in last rays of the evening sun on the main road; the servant of manor stood next to front door but vicar decided to have a look upon the building before more darkness. It warmed him to see latticed windows intact and some of them alighted from inside as it got late for the sun, now low behind the manor. Some vines were left between the window bays but less wild style. Cracks on wall were filled and painted over. East wing was still in need of the same exterior work but Mr Tollerson had not been in waste of time recovering Scyllaclough Grange to it’s original grandeur, to times before ill-fated baron. Ascending the steps vicar noticed the servant the very same person who br
ought the invitation. He was guided to the hall which was well lit, but far from clear for it was partly filled with wooden containers and chests, part of which were open; great amount of books and some most strange apparatus were to behold. Vicar Godwinson hesitated a moment but decided these belonging to the collection of a scholar. Getting disposed of his cloak, hat and cane, vicar was then escorted through doors to west wing where he met the couple in possession of the Grange; in a spacious long dinner room with decorated walls and a ceiling with a huge painting; which to great surprise to vicar was biblical origin. While performing this admiring action eyes up, vicar Godwinson almost stumbled upon a chair but having a decent situational awareness, the servant grabbed him. The middle aged woman at the other end of the table held back a giggle while his husband rose and approached:

  “Well-met, Robinson! And well-met to you, vicar; and welcome to the new Scyllaclough Grange!”

  “Pardon me,” vicar fumbled a bit with his footing but continued, “and thank you, sir. And allow me to express my gratitude of the invitation and welcome on behalf of the parish of Dainsdale.”

  “Indeed, you are too kind. I am James Tollerson, a scholar they call me. Fear me not, I carry neither noble peerage nor a whip; at least not yet, if you allow such words. Let me introduce my wife and whip during research days and observing nights, Anna Tollerson.”

  Vicar bowed promptly, the frolic woman stood up and with gentle steps seemed to glide across the floor. Vicar reached for woman's hand but Anna Tollerson had already taken his hand with a firm grasp; which was unheard-of and vicar was well confused before Mr Tollerson intervened and with admonishing voice progressed the situation:

  “Anna, Anna! I am certain the Father is well-educated and mannered; we should not deviate from the same path before well-acquainted.”

  “Well, he is on our mercy now,” Anna almost giggled but added: “Forgive me, Father. I usually wish the formalities over as soon as possible.”

  Vicar rallied himself and nodded with somehow constrained smile.

  “Let us sit down,” Mr Tollerson declared cheerily, “Robinson, would you do the honors? Ah, Father, I forgot Robinson; meet the most staunch and reliable work-horse applied to any scholar.”

  Tall servant nodded courteously and then proceeded to pour the wine and serve the dinner. Mrs Tollerson inquired local matters of interest from vicar, who did the best to reply and same time attempted to make his own suspicions to vanish. There was perhaps a slight discrepancy between vicar's expectations and experiences thus far. Should a scholar be strictly made of same wood as vicar's old teacher, the pious and Newtonian rector? Vicar took a quick glimpse upon Anna Tollerson's hands; their skin was thick and there were few callus on them. Hard work was done with those hands and now vicar became conscious of the fact that despite perfect dressing of a lady, Anna Tollerson hardly used cosmetics, having affinity to those industrious wives and mothers in village and even with late Mrs Godwinson, who had perished under disease having hardly crossed her fifties. Whatever Mr Tollerson's practices were, his wife seemed to stand by him. These thoughts were then interrupted by the squire:

  “Father, we have some written formalities in our common path; mainly about the village and inhabitants; funding and taxes and of course parish church. I understand my predecessor had rather, shall I say, ominous relationship to Dainsdale? Actually you don't have to answer, he was too well-known up to colleges and The Court; but capable to raise a storm, should any finger point at him. I shall not give any further thought to him, now.”

  Vicar Godwinson depressed his face:

  “I agree. There are things about this place I would rather bury and leave.”

  “I'm certain of that. We already have found some curiosities, particularly from the vaults below and such machinery may only have been originated from applications of Spanish Inquisition. Only thing allowed to remain after baron is the painting up here. An exact copy of Creation, perhaps my predecessor had his own translation about it.”

  “Oh. It is remarkable work and I am certain that the changes here will also denounce any evil burden from it.”

  “Another thing, Father; can you tell anything about those hills, specifically the tallest one? I have my own revelations from my studies but perhaps you can tell something from your knowledge upon the matter?”

  Vicar hesitated a moment but picked his words carefully:

  “Sir, I would rather refrain from any account about former squire's acts there but according my knowledge it is an ancient place of rites. I was told that the squire back then had some excavations made and some corners of large marked stones were revealed but there was no more after it; except sudden appearance of baron's own rites. Oh, I'd rather forget them but the villagers have been and still are very careful with the place.”

  Mr Tollerson made a quiet pose of contemplation.

  “Yes, I believe you. These places always maintain superstition around. What comes to baron, I think he got his ideas from that hill. But let me be fair and honest with my forthcoming arrangements: Do you think any of your flock would do some building work there?”

  Vicar Godwinson flinched but contained himself upon this unexpected inquiry:

  “I would of course do my best to persuade but I'm afraid it would be in vain. But,” vicar said narrowing his eyes, “should you attend to my services, your presence would certainly lessen the suspicions among your subjects.”

  “Ha! Anna, hark to the well-played response! Fear not, Father. You shall not have liturgies without us there. Think of this and meantime perhaps my Robinson and your sexton will run some errands and messages between Grange and rectory; our literal discussion and numbers about running this parish?”

  Vicar felt a touch of sympathy but--and not least under memory of the baron--kept his spiritual curtain walls only half-open.

  “I am grateful under your friendly intentions. I shall promptly attempt to persuade my poor sheep according your inquiry.”

  “I believe you shall do none the less. Thank you, Father. I cannot help to notice your modest appetite; I must warn you, I will run you around this place next time for I truly wish you to testify my implementations here.”

  Vicar Godwinson felt those words a bit unnerving but he was much more composed about the Grange when he climbed to sexton's carriage in half dark yard. He turned to look back at manor and admired its new lighted tranquility amidst darkness, without malevolent commotion and racket of its former inhabitants and guests.

  ~~~~

  Vicar Godwinson was content to observe the newcomers appearing in his church during next service. Mr and Mrs Tollerson sat smiling and with dignity on the rear pews, with stout Robinson behind them. They were last to arrive; an arrangement that warranted the peaceful admittance of congregation to the church without being affright by squire of the Grange, though the previous one was never accused of putting his foot inside the church. Some villagers peeked nervously to rear pews but vicar had a gift of talking with such smoothness that even the most superstitious lot considered the church and service a true sanctuary. After putting aside his Book of Common Prayer, vicar Godwinson straightened himself in the pulpit and started news and ended them with a proclamation of new squire, declaring that men and women of work were needed at the Grange. Vicar was not surprised to see some parishioners trying to hide their heads between the pews; and promptly made a promise of his own presence during the works. The need was for wood-workers, smiths, stone-builders; maids and children were also mentioned, for serving the meals and running errands. Contract included also a paragraph to let workers to crops during harvest. Exiting the church, parishioners could sign to Robinson, who had old sexton McNally next to him to encourage uncertain ones. There was, however, too great dispute over the new squire's intentions, especially amongst the elder and those who were children during the detestable times of previous landlord. Thus only the count of one smith and two wood-workers was reached. Undaunted, Mr Tollerson told vicar that the works in the manor itse
lf were still at large and there was no hurry with his schemes; the architect was yet to arrive from London and only after that would materials be imported to Grange. At vicar's inquiry about current workers at manor, Mr Tollerson only responded them being far from their homes and contracts expiring; moreover, their renovating skills were not needed. Having declared this, Mr Tollerson invited vicar to another visit to the Grange 'during any worthy and bright dusk'.

  ~~~~

  Aforementioned sunsets and bright nights were not rare in that particular part of England; which, according the new squire, 'was the first and foremost motive to acquire the Grange for the benefit of scientific applications.' Thus observing such an evening settle behind the window of his study, vicar Godwinson put aside his papers and remnants of most limited meal—-he refrained upon grand dinners while at home and preferred to work at the same time—-and sent for the sexton who promptly picked him up and drove to Scyllaclough Grange. There ever-stout Robinson led him through the hall which was now cleaned up and decorated by glorious landscape paintings and portraits of family. Servant opened double doors to the library which was undoubtedly the highest space in the manor, advancing from the hall through the east wing and taking the whole height of two storeys. It was merely a corridor between flanking bookcases and vicar observed the spiral staircase ascending to balcony circling the space, and more shelves could be told from dimness. Squire himself was sitting in the more spacious end of the library, holding the only properly lighted spot with several lamps; he was loading his long pipe at large oak desk, paved with papers drawn full of circles, lines and calculations. In the walls were more painting and framed drawings but they seemed odd to vicar, representing circular bodies surrounded with light dots in darkness. Mr Tollerson stood up for reception; he was wearing a worn out, somewhat tattered coat; his wig was on table but there was no sign of any remorse for not keeping it.