Sarum (153 page)
Authors: Edward Rutherfurd
Surprisingly, it was Oliver Cromwell who let them in again, after their almost total absence for three hundred and sixty years. Indeed, it was one of the few complaints Obadiah had against the great leader that, being an army man, he was too tolerant of religious sectaries. Of late there seemed to have been more than ever – Baptists, Anabaptists, Brownists who insisted that each individual congregation received its own divine inspiration without requiring the guidance of any central body; there were the new folk, the followers of the preacher Fox, whom men called Quakers and who claimed an individual divine right. A lucid but infernal preacher called Penn had even had the audacity to preach their nonsense in Wiltshire. “He should have been whipped and bored through the tongue,” Obadiah had explained sadly to Samuel. As for letting in the Jews – that was insufferable.
They came, often, from Holland, whence they had fled from persecution in Spain. They were not allowed to be English subjects, but were given leave to move about their trading business quietly.
Aaron had landed recently. It seemed he was known to half of the prisoners already. He brought messages from their families, money, and, of course, the ability to perform any business transactions the prisoners might require.
He stayed for half an hour, an elderly, bald-headed man, who seemed to regard all around him with a wary amusement.
Samuel inspected him thoroughly but was rather disappointed. He had not expected a Jew to look like an ordinary man.
Afterwards, Aaron had returned to his lodgings at Wilton.
It was a week after her final defiance of Obadiah, that Margaret paid her secret call upon Sir Henry Forest.
She told no one about it.
As Forest heard what she had to say, he was astonished, but he listened carefully. Finally he summed up:
“So you want me to take the boy – in effect as my ward?”
She nodded.
“And you wish him to be educated with my children?”
“That is the key. They are similar age. I have heard they have a good tutor. He must receive the best education.”
“My tutor is excellent. A good university man.” He paused. “You think I can keep the boy from Obadiah?”
“Certainly. He would not dare attack you. And he could hardly complain if his brother were receiving the same education as the children of Sir Henry Forest.”
For this was the conclusion that Margaret Shockley had reached. She did not suppose any longer that she could hold the boy. She was not even sure that she could deny Obadiah. With Forest, however, Samuel would still be at Avonsford, but quite out of Obadiah’s clutches.
She could not help smiling to herself at how she was outwitting the dour Presbyterian.
Forest nodded thoughtfully. His dark, narrow-set eyes were calculating.
“Obadiah Shockley would not give me much trouble,” he agreed.
“Will you do it?”
“I like your boy. He has talent too. It’s right he should be educated,” he told her frankly. Then he smiled. “You have guessed the price of my agreeing?”
She nodded. Of course. It was worth it.
The terms were simple. For taking over the complete education of Samuel Shockley, including his time at Oxford and, if he wished, the Inns of Court, Margaret’s water meadows were to pass into his family’s ownership, with the stipulation that Margaret should enjoy the life tenancy of the water meadow for a nominal rent. It was an excellent bargain for both sides.
Until the deeds were drawn up and sealed, however, they would remain secret.
Aaron the Jew liked to travel early in the day. This was partly because he normally slept poorly and woke by dawn. It was also that he had found, all his life, a special uplifting of the spirit in the dawn chorus. Even now, despite the fact he was middle-aged, it gave him a thrill about the heart.
He drove his little carriage himself up the Avon valley, just as the first light was coming over the ridges above. By the time he reached Avonsford, the sky was lightening quickly, but as yet there was no one about.
It was just past the manor house that he stopped and stared in surprise.
On the slope above there was a small wooden sheep house. It undoubtedly belonged to the manor.
Why therefore should a figure he clearly recognised as Obadiah Shockley the preacher be coming surreptitiously out of it?
Shockley was not aware of him. Quickly he strode up towards the footpath on the ridge above.
That afternoon, while Samuel and Jacob Godfrey were up on the high ground an unexpected visitor came to call upon Margaret. His name was Daniel Johnson.
He was a quiet, serious man with a polite manner. He had come, he explained, from Obadiah.
“And since my horse went lame halfway here, I had a long walk,” he added a little ruefully.
Margaret was a little sorry for him, and since she was feeling somewhat elated after her meeting with Forest, she saw no harm in hearing him out.
He pleaded the case for Samuel’s education well. He said that Obadiah was hurt she should deny him his natural role in helping to bring up the child. She judged that, having listened to her brother, the man was possibly quite sincere. What could she say to him?
He was agreeable at any rate. He had a pleasing way of listening to her so that she was encouraged to go on. She gave him her rough and ready views on many subjects. He was interested to learn about how she had fought for the Clubmen, dressed in men’s armour. He asked if he might see round the farm, and she showed him her cows, speaking to them gently as they nudged shyly away from the stranger. Proudly she took him to the floated meadows. On their return she even, at his request, showed him the nearly tame birds that she called by name. He seemed well pleased with everything he saw. At one point, while she had to attend to one of the farmworkers he even spoke in a friendly way to the serving girl and gave her a shilling.
As far as Mr Johnson’s mission was concerned, she returned his politeness, but was non-committal. Soon she would have the documents signed by Forest and that would be the end of the matter.
They parted amicably, having reached no conclusions.
She was surprised a few minutes later to see that Samuel, who had just come in, was white as a sheet. And why should he look at her so strangely when he asked who her visitor had been?
“Mr Johnson,” she told him, “from Obadiah. He was pleasing enough.”
“Johnson? He called himself that?”
“Why not?”
For a second he paused, as though suddenly he was not sure whether to speak.
“’Twas Matthew Hopkins,” he blurted out, “the witchfinder general. What does he here?”
The birds she called by name. The cows she spoke to. The serving girl he gave a shilling to. She felt the colour drain from her face.
Obadiah.
Worse. With his influence as a preacher and with Matthew Hopkins on his side . . . the evil cunning of the man. She had fallen into a terrible trap.
Later that afternoon, one of Sir Henry Forest’s sheep died.
The agreement between Sir Henry Forest and Margaret Shockley was signed and sealed the next day. It was agreed that Samuel would begin his life at Avonsford Manor the following month, when Lady Forest and her children came back from a visit to her family.
Margaret returned home thoughtfully afterwards. If he knew the boy was safely with Forest, would Obadiah still attack her? Or would he attack all the more, to try to annul the agreement? Were agreements by people found guilty of witchcraft still valid? She did not know.
She had no illusions though. Whatever his plan, if Obadiah and Matthew Hopkins attacked, she would have little chance of surviving.
When she got back she summoned Samuel and told him:
“You’re to live with the Forests. It’s a great opportunity.” And she explained to him both about Forest’s fine tutor and about the water meadows. “You will have companions of your own age as well,” she added.
That evening, the second of Forest’s sheep died. When the shepherd and steward opened the dead animal up to look for signs of murrain, they could find none. They could not tell what either sheep had died of.
The two men chose their spot well – by a small clump of trees on the path that led to the water meadow. As they expected, the boy came by in the early afternoon, and Obadiah hailed him softly.
“Samuel. We must speak with thee.”
They were grave, the two men. Hopkins, as always, quiet and pleasant; Obadiah sorely troubled.
“It is hard, Samuel, to think such a thing of our sister,” he said sadly. “Still I pray God it may turn out to be false.”
“But you must be observant,” the witchfinder said. “Anything you see may be significant.”
Was it really possible that Margaret, his Margaret, was practising witchcraft? Ever since the day before he had been worrying about the significance of Hopkins. Yet despite the respect he had for the two grave men, he could not bring himself to think that it was so.
As though reading his thoughts, Obadiah reminded him:
“The devil is subtle, Samuel. He may choose to possess even those we love.”
When they asked him what she had done in the last day, he could only tell them about her transaction with Forest.
Obadiah was taken aback by this news. But he quickly recovered to take advantage of it.
“That land was meant to come to you, Samuel,” he said. “She has sold your patrimony to pay Forest. Yet had I not offered the same education to you myself for nothing?” He shook his head. “Hers is a distorted mind. I fear the worst. We shall try, if we can, to get your land back.”
And as he considered this, whether or not he thought she might be a witch, Samuel Shockley felt a touch of anger towards his sister.
The accusation was made the very next day. He would demonstrate, Hopkins promised, that by her unnatural behaviour in dressing up as a man, by her speech with animals and by other signs, Margaret Shockley had shown herself to be steeped in the arts of necromancy. For good measure, it was subjoined that she had bewitched her neighbour’s sheep, and the death of two of Forest’s was adduced as evidence.
It was a damning charge and all Sarum was buzzing with it. The matter would be laid before the Justice of the Peace—Sir Henry Forest – the very next week, but there seemed little doubt that he would send the matter forward to the Assizes for trial. The fact that the bewitched sheep belonged to him was not held to prejudice the matter in any way.
The next day, however, Sir Henry Forest received a most unexpected call.
It was from Aaron the Jew.
After hearing about the accusation, it had taken courage for Aaron to go to Forest. As a Jew, his position in England was tenuous. Did not his people know to their cost, for centuries of persecution, the terrible risks of calling attention to themselves? Had he any need to make enemies of powerful men like Obadiah? Margaret Shockley was nothing to him, nor Sarum, where he might only stay a month before passing on.
But it was written in the law: Thou shalt not bear false witness. It was written in the law, and if he did nothing, his conscience would not let him rest. He had seen what he had seen.
Briefly, without suggesting what it might mean, he told Sir Henry how he had seen Obadiah.
Forest listened, and as he did so, he grew thoughtful. When the Jew had finished, he thanked him, then, choosing his words with care;
“This is a delicate matter,” he warned, “and I advise you to say nothing about it. I shall investigate it diligently though. Be assured of that.”
Then he dismissed the man.
For some time after Aaron had gone, he considered the business in every aspect. Then drew out the agreement he had made with Margaret only days before. Even in the event of her condemnation and death, he judged that it might still be valid. Without her life tenancy at a low rent, the value of his acquisition would be raised many times.
Forest considered carefully, then decided to remain silent and wait upon events.
Margaret Shockley foresaw the next move against her.
That same day, she packed Samuel’s possessions into three larges boxes and placed them in the cart. Then she drove the boy round to Avonsford Manor.
“It’s best he remains with you,” she told the baronet, and reminding him of their agreement she pointed out: “’Twill be easier for you to keep your part of the bargain if he is already safely in your hands. Not so easy if Obadiah’s already got him.
Forest took him in without a word.
Two hours later, Obadiah and six men arrived at the farm. They had come for Samuel. She noticed that neither Jacob Godfrey nor any of the farm hands made any attempt to stop him.
“You come too late,” she told Obadiah. “He is safe with Sir Henry Forest, where even you can’t touch him.”
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