Read Three Round Towers Online
Authors: Beverley Elphick
The missus was in there like a shot and she grabbed Becca by the arm yanking her out into the yard. I heard her hiss âGet rid of it! Don't dare come back until it's gone.' She came back into the house, her face contorted with rage. Slamming the door she threw the bolts. âYou, get upstairs and stay there.' She pushed me and I fled, terrified. I curled up on our bed as I heard her tramping up behind me. She dragged the door shut and bolted it on the outside. I was trapped and Becca was alone. The baby was coming and she was all alone.
And there went a man of the house of Levi, and took to wife a daughter of Levi. And the woman conceived, and bare a son: and when she saw him that he was a goodly child, she hid him three months. And when she could not longer hide him, she took for him an ark of bulrushes, and daubed it with slime and with pitch, and put the child therein; and she laid it in the flags by the river's brink.
Exodus ii, 1-10.
The air was dense and wet as I picked myself up from the cobbles and I heard the heavy bolts slide shut. I made my way along the wall towards the church, my progress was slow and I ended up crawling on my hands and knees. I had made plans, I wasn't unprepared; the rush basket was hidden in the reeds. The river was murmuring quietly, reassuring and the sounds of the evening calmed me. There was no pain, just pressure on my back, I knew what was to come and I dragged myself up, I knew where the great key was and had taken it after Sunday service. If the baby had not arrived I was going to put it back and take it again, until my time.
The night was deep and still as I shut and locked the church door from the inside. At last I felt safe as I was in the house of God: He would protect my baby. I had hidden some hay under the altar cloth and I pulled it out and bunched it behind one of the pews, one that was a long way from the altar and the crucifix. I sat waiting as bands of tightness swept my belly. I prayed, gripped the rails, prayed and must have passed out. When I woke it was dark; I knew my baby would come soon. I braced my knees against the pew and when the pain ripped through me I pushed and pushed. I had taken a strip of hard leather from the horses' tack to bite down on and I pushed some more. No one would hear my cries â St Peter's was very old and its walls were thicker than the span of six hands.
The pressure in my back was forcing my baby down and my insides felt as if they were tearing apart as it came. I tasted the blood in my mouth and must have passed out again as when I woke I could see a bloody pile between my legs on the hay. I pulled myself upright, wiping the little body with clean hay and saw that I had a daughter. A tiny little sigh came from her mouth as I squeezed her awake. She cried, a thin wail, which rose into a lusty cry as I cradled her into my body after I had cut her loose from me. My eyes streamed, as I was overcome with love for her. We lay on the hay together, I suckled her to my breast and thanked God for her safe deliverance.
A pale light was creeping through the windows signalling the approach of dawn; it was time to go. I cradled my sweet babe into my wrap, the one and only bright thing I possessed, and placed her carefully on the altar. I scraped the bloody mess up and unlocked the door before burying everything deep under a bush. I crept back to the altar, got down onto my torn knees and asked for help in what I had to do. I knew my prayers would be answered â hadn't God spoken to me? Master read the bible to us every Sunday and hadn't he told the story of Moses when I was praying for guidance? Yes, my prayers had been answered; all I had to do was take my babe to the river and give her up to the tide and a better future. I had made her cradle myself and it would be found by the time it got to Lewes, by far the busiest place around. She would be gathered up and given to a wet-nurse and later perhaps to a barren woman who would love her for me.
The sun was peeping through the clouds and I thought I heard someone whisper my name, I looked round but it was only the wind sighing in the rushes; they and the river were calling me and I hurried to where I had hidden the basket. I laid her inside it, kissing her little fingers as they caught at me. The
water crept round my ankles, then my knees as we moved deeper. I had woven a bulrush to the head of the basket like a flag. I straightened it carefully, making it stand proud and then I let her go. The little craft bobbed and swirled at first then picked up speed as it got into the current and moved slowly downstream. She was gone, beyond my care and reach; I stood and watched until my eyes filled and I could no longer see through my tears. I was stiff with cold but I had one last thing to do. I unbound my plaits and pulled the comb from my pocket before tugging it through my hair until it was soft and beautiful. I waded back to the bank of the river and left the comb for Esther to find when she came looking for me.
Moving slowly now, my legs refusing to lift, my skirts billowed out as I went towards the centre of the fast moving water. I lay down in the water on my back and felt my hair float around me. I was washed clean and I closed my eyes giving myself to the river and God in exchange for the life of my baby.
The missus let me out of our room to tend the fire and as soon as I could I left the house to search for Becca. I looked through all the outhouses and anywhere that there might be some shelter. I was bewildered by the silence that greeted me, even the birds were quiet. Eventually I went to the church, the door was unlocked and the key was on the inside. I felt immediately that she had been there and I soon found evidence of her birthing deep in the body of the nave; anxiety rippled through me and a tear tracked down my cheek as I stumbled from the door locking it and returning the key to the barn where it was normally kept.
âStupid, stupid girl,' I whispered to myself as the implication of the wax cradle came to me. Becca must have hidden her baby in the bulrushes and she was probably looking for me so that we could all run away together. Spurred on by this likely thought I hurried along the path towards the river as I searched for any sign of her presence and came at last upon her precious comb.
âOh Becca,' I cried, âwhat have you done?' I thrashed up and down the bank searching, searching until at last I found her trapped in the reeds. Her face looked peaceful though her poor, limp body was shrouded by her hair. Somehow, I dragged her from the water before I began my search for the cradle. I might never have found it but for a tiny plaintiff cry somewhere to my right. I pushed my way through the shallows, deep into the reed beds until, at last, I came upon the cradle. The babe lay in her basket swathed in Becca's wrap with no more than a little dampness to show for her ordeal.
The sun was high in the sky before I had dried myself and laid the poor little scrap down on the sun-warmed bank. I had made my plan: my path was clear. I would return to the farm without the child in case the missus vented her anger on it. I would seek out the master and tell him that Becca had died and it was his responsibility, as was the welfare of the babe. I would remind him that his behaviour would bring down retribution from his neighbours and the Reverend Skillen; I would force him to give me money, enough to enable me to leave this wicked place and raise the child as my own in some village away from Hamsey. If I had money I might be welcomed into some hamlet, particularly if I sought out kindly relatives of my mother's kin. She had told me that she had family in a village called Southease, way downriver. With money I would pretend to be a widow and my looks and disabilities would not bring jealousy in my wake. I was clear in my mind that this was the way forward, now I just had to put it into practice. I tucked the baby, now back in her cradle, between two tussocks of grass, being careful to draw the long vegetation across her face so that no one should hear her if she cried. I wouldn't be long; I blew her a kiss.
The house was silent when I entered and I went straight up to our room to fetch my belongings. Missus was in the kitchen, angrily muttering to herself and slamming pots and pans around. The boys were nowhere to be seen. I found the master in the big barn surrounded by his dogs who growled menacingly as I entered. He silenced the dogs and looked warily at me as I grabbed the nearest beam and forced myself towards him.
âBecca?' he said.
âDrowned,' I croaked, not mentioning the child.
He nodded and dropped his head into his hands. For a moment I thought he was weeping but when he looked up all I could see was relief in his piggy eyes. My anger at his callousness gave me the courage to go on.
âYou must have her buried,' I said. âA good, decent funeral and you must give me some money so that I can leave here and never have to tell the Reverend Skillen what I know.' He nodded, thankful, no doubt, to be given a way out of the mess. I was surprised that he didn't argue, perhaps there was a grain of humanity in him after all.
âThe child?' he looked back at me from the door.
âA girl,' I said. âShe needs feeding.' He nodded and went out of the barn shutting the door behind him.
I left Coad Farm on the master's wagon. He drove me himself so that no one else need be involved in this sorry tale. The cart carried our few belongings, goat's milk for the child and in my purse I had all my savings and the few pounds left to me after my parents died.
I asked to be dropped off in Lewes where I would find Becca's father and tell him there had been a terrible accident. I would not mention the babe. Then, I would travel downriver to seek lodgings for myself before I tried to find my mother's family. Overnight I became a young widow with a child. I had plenty of time to create a new history for us.
I wanted to call the babe after her mother but as I jolted along in the cart I thought it better not to draw attention to us both, particularly if someone raised questions on the manner of Becca's death. My name was common so I had no fears there but Esther and Rebecca together would link us to Hamsey and the half dozen families who would remember us.
All the jolting had lulled the little one into a peaceful dose. There were traces of milk round her rosebud mouth so I was sure that she had been nursed before being placed into the rush-cradle. Even so, she would need feeding very soon and all I had was some cold goat's milk. I could see the master looking at me and the child out of the corner of his eye and as we approached the town walls just below the church and castle, he spoke.
âYou mun keep quiet 'bout all this. I could be had up by the Justice for what I done, tho' I shall say that she led me on with her wicked ways.'
âYou're a devil and your whole family are wicked through and through but I will keep your secret, as long as you give me enough money to set us up. My papa told me about men like you having to pay bastardy bonds â well, give me the same amount and I won't be telling on you. I heard talk of one such â he had to pay fifty guineas â and that is what I want.' I swallowed hard as the bile rose in my throat, amazed at my daring.
He grunted and nodded to the purse which lay between us, âDon't ye ever come back this way again,' he threatened, âor I will see you put in the market gaol
as having murdered young Becca in order to steal her babe.' He spat the words at me defiantly, spittle collecting at the corners of his mouth before hawking over the side of the cart.
I tried not to show my fear but my stomach rolled in panic as I wondered if he could do such a thing and people believe him. He pulled the horse up under some great trees and I scrambled out clutching the babe and purse in one hand as I yanked our box of belongings with the other. Tears of relief washed over me as he clicked his tongue to the docile old horse, never once looking at his child or me. He was good with his animals but not, it would seem, his own kind.
I sat on my box and hid the purse inside my clothing before gathering the baby into my chest and tying my shawl tightly round her and my back. I now had two hands free to carry my belongings comfortably. I moved purposefully up the hill towards the gallows mound, stopping some lads to ask the way to Becca's stepmother's home. As I approached their small cottage I saw her father coming towards me. He looked up with a glint of recognition.
I blurted out, all my calm reasoning forgotten, âBecca is dead, Master Coad is taking care of the burying.' I swallowed before rushing on, âYou must help me find a lodging place for tonight and a wet-nurse.' The poor man looked so shocked with my bald statement, I had given him no explanation or reason for his daughter's death.
He pulled me away from the front of the house before hissing, âIs the child hers?'
âYes, but no one must know that. You must keep her a secret, please,' I begged.
He glanced back towards the cottage, nodding. âAye, âtwon't do no good to tell on ye. Becca were a goodly lass and I know'd she were fond of thee. Go down Keere Street and there be a widow Makepiece near the bottom; she lets out rooms on occasion. She might know where there be a wet-nurse. She's a good woman â say I sent you. Say Ben Franklin sent you.'
I turned away, but he pulled me back urgently. âDid he do this? Coad, I mean.'
I nodded, tears filling my eyes, âShe had the child and put herself in the river. I will bring the babe up as my own, I will say I am a widow. I have some money and no one need know.'
He looked troubled as he said, âthese things have a habit of getting out girl, âtis not easy to hide a death and a birthing. One or t'other maybe, but both?' He shook his head. âWhere will you go?' He reached out and touched the child's face as she burped a fat contented sigh.
âMy mother had kin nearby, perhaps, a little ways downstream towards Southease, I hope I can find them and they take me in for a while.'
He drew his hand across his eyes âGod be with you girl, and I thank 'ee for all the help you gave my Becca. I'm sorry I can't take you in but my wife won't be having it and it would cause too much trouble for ye and the babe. What be her name?'
âBeth,' I whispered as the name just came to me. âShort for Elizabeth.'
âBecca would have liked that,' he nodded. âGood luck, Esther, you are going to need it, I will try and help where I can.' He turned away and I watched him walk towards his home, he looked smaller somehow. He turned and waved and though the light wasn't good I thought I saw tears on his lined cheek. There was a light in the window and it looked comfortable and safe. How I wished we had somewhere or someone to welcome us.
Night was clipping the overhanging trees as I skirted the main streets and instinctively crept through the passages and twittens towards Keere Street. I felt cold and lonely as I hurried along, not raising my eyes to anyone. As I struggled down the slippery cobbles of Keere Street the babe began to whimper. At last I stopped outside a tiny well-kept cottage on the steepest part of the hill. I knocked tentatively, and, as the door opened I was struck dumb â I hadn't prepared myself for what I would say.
âUm, can you help me, us â have you lodgings for the night Mistress? I am sorely pressed and my baby is needing her feed.' I gabbled, âI can pay you.'
She drew her chin into her neck as if questioning my right to have a baby at all but I gathered my wits and pulled myself up tall and firm. âA man up town suggested you were a good kind woman who let rooms out betimes. His name is Ben Franklin.'
She raised an eyebrow but I felt her warm a little. âAye, I do that, if people take my fancy I can let them abide a-whiles.'
I relaxed and smiled encouragingly, âI have no one else to turn to and the night draws in. I could go to the alehouses but I would worry for the babe.'
She was shocked, âOh, no, my lovey, you can't take a baby there, landsakes, 'twouldn't do. Come you in and we will see what you's made of.' She led me into a tiny sitting room with a warm jolly fire quickly dispelling my anxiety. I unwrapped the scarf that bound Beth to me and Missus Makepiece took her into her arms. âTch, tch, you're a bonny babe but your ma looks a bit too frail to be carting you round the town.' She looked at me as I sank exhausted and uninvited into a deep chair placed by the grate.
âI can pay for our lodgings until I find my mother's kin. Please can we stay?'
âAye, lass you can stay. Now, what about summat warming for you and the babe?' I reached into my box and pulled out the goat's milk. I held it out to her for warming. I had no idea how to give it, I had no bottles or teats but I needn't have worried my kind hostess dripped the drops from her little finger into Beth's waiting mouth.
âShe don't like it much, do she?'
She didn't ask why I wasn't able to feed her myself.
Mrs Makepiece shared her rich meaty soup with me and for the first time that day I began to warm. I could see her looking at my worker's hands and the clumsy way I tried to hold Beth.
âYour first be it?'
âAye, my husband was a fisherman and he died in an accident some months gone,' I lied. She just looked at me and nodded.
âWell, I've brought up three strapping lads and they've all gone out into the world to make their way so I am glad of your company child.'
âD'you know of a wet-nurse for hire hereabouts? I have been unwell and have no milk to give the babe.'
âYou could go to the workhouse and ask,' she said. I think little Beth will take the milk if we put some honey in it and you look a mite weary lass, why not rest up tonight and we will try and find someone tomorrow.' I blinked back grateful tears as Mrs Makepiece showed me to a small but comfortable room. It had a deep chest in one corner and we made a little nest for Beth inside it. I sank into the bed and fell into a fitful sleep.
I kept waking, listening for Beth's tiny breaths and snuffles. I couldn't escape the sight of Becca's
poor, limp body lying amongst the reeds in the dirty cold grey water. My tears soaked the sheets that held me in a deathly shroud as I struggled to escape from drowning. The night was so very long and my leg ached badly and the child needed more of the goat's milk and honey â I couldn't sleep without dreaming so stayed awake and watched the dawn break quietly as the same painful thoughts kept running through my mind. How would I manage, would people believe me? Mrs Makepiece clearly hadn't in spite of her kindness. Would I be taken by the Justices as a vagrant or a tramper? Would I have to go into the workhouse? If Becca's story came out would I have to give up my little Beth? When I left Coad Farm it had all seemed so simple â just put as much distance as possible between us and them. I hadn't given a thought to the Justices or the the constable. If my as yet unknown family didn't want me I would never be able to settle down. My little pile of money would not go far. I got up and opened the bag the master had given me. I'd asked for fifty
guineas
,
so I wept as I counted out only thirty-five pounds. I was so bitter that I spent the next few hours plotting my revenge before realising that I wouldn't be able to stand against him or his family; I would have to be a bit cleverer.
There was a knock on the door as Mrs Makepiece brought a bowl with some hot water and clean rags. âI'm thinking you will want to wash the little mite and give her a bit of a clean, like. I've made some thin gruel with the milk and a spot of honey, it will keep her happy while you take care of your business,' she said kindly. âI've a mind to look out some of my boys' baby clothes â I was keeping them for any grandchildren but I don't reckon they're coming yet awhile.' Tears streamed down my face as I thanked her. She didn't ask any questions just took over the washing and tidying. As she worked she talked to little Beth who was trying to grasp my finger.