The Maidens of Walsingham
Анна Морион
1834, England. The poor village of Walsingham, forgotten by God and the crown, whose inhabitants find solace only in their faith. The head of the village is Pastor Glowford. He is deeply respected and fervently loved by his parishioners. The pastor has three lovely daughters, all different in character, dreams and desires. Life in the village goes on as it should until an unexpected visit from the new young landlord disturbs the peace of the villagers. This visit brings the Glowford sisters new hopes for the future.
Анна Морион
The Maidens of Walsingham
Chapter 1
1834, England.
From the old, stone church came a disorderly chorus of voices singing an Anglican hymn of praise to the accompaniment of a bad-sounding old organ. It was vespers. The village of Walsingham never missed a divine mass.
The village, forgotten by God and decaying for hundreds of years, had long ago become a "rotten place," as it was called in the Parliament of England. The inhabitants of this "rotten place" were one hundred and fifty-one people, mostly women and children. Here lived the most ordinary peasants, differing from the rest of the English peasantry in one feature only: they were hideously poor, but in this poverty they cherished their lives, families, and souls as the apple of their eye. Poverty did not embarrass them, for their Anglican faith and veneration of the Virgin Mary of Walsingham gave them strength and meaning to their lives even in the midst of this terrible, repulsive poverty. The landlord of the part of the county of Norfolk in which Walsingham was situated seemed to have forgotten, or perhaps simply did not know, that this isolated society of deeply religious and pure-hearted peasants was nestled on his land.
– Now, brothers and sisters in Christ, let us pray to our Father.
The parishioners offered their prayers diligently and sincerely to God, then the pastor blessed the people, they got up from the cracked, black wooden pews and went home.
It had been like this for centuries: as soon as the service was over, the peasants hurried to their stone houses to milk the horned cattle, feed the poultry, and tidy up their miserable dwellings, and only after these labours to feed themselves and their children. Before going to bed, the head of each family read the Holy Scriptures in syllables, and when the small light of the tallow candle died out, the families prayed and went to bed on old straw-stuffed bunks on the dirt floor to ward off the voracious bedbugs all night long.
But tonight was no usual evening: in the morning a rumour had spread among the people of Walsingham that they had a new landlord, but no one knew who he was, but they were happy to share their speculations with their neighbours and savour the news like a treat. People passed on to each other their own expectations of how the new lord would tidy up the village and the church, which was the centre of this little universe, for he, the new lord, would undoubtedly be an honest fellow and deeply interested in the fate of his peasants. The new aspirations and hope for change became food for the peasants' minds, who had almost forgotten to dream, even though the venerable Pastor Glowford urged them not to dream too soon: for if the Lord is to do good through the new landlord, it will happen, and if not, it is His will. At vespers it was announced to the peasants that the new landlord himself would be arriving for Sunday service tomorrow morning, so many were unable to sleep that night, wondering about the future.
Despite his own sober exhortations, Pastor Glowford himself was full of hope: he knew that the new landlord would bring either much happiness or much grief to the village, so he and his family prayed to God that by the landlord's hand He would bring the peasants of this poor, almost barren land relief from their hard labour.
Pastor Glowford enjoyed great authority and respect in the village: he was a minister of God, a deeply religious man, a spiritual counsellor of the peasants, always ready to help his parishioners in all their troubles. After graduating from the Theological Seminary, a young educated man with great ambitions was sent to this wilderness, but Pastor Glowford quickly accepted his fate, became even more zealous in his faith, married a local, poor, uneducated, but kind and beautiful girl Emma Jones, and gave birth to three daughters with her, like the sun illuminating his approaching old age. Now, however, his loving wife of seventeen years had slept her eternal sleep under the shade of a mighty oak tree in the public village cemetery. The pastor helped the poor (though the rich and even the well-to-do did not exist here), sometimes healed them, and also taught basic grammar classes to his parishioners so that they could read the Scriptures and the New Testament. The pastor was loved for these qualities and kindness: the parishioners expressed their love and respect for him by giving his family foodstuffs, as they had no livestock of their own, nor did they have any other animals. The Glowford family grew cereals on a small plot of land, but not enough to feed four adults. The sale of coarse homespun cloth, which the Glowford girls did, brought little or nothing, and the parson himself was as poor as his parishioners.
The Glowford girls were no less loved than their father. Catherine, the eldest of them, was twenty-six years old, the cleverest of the sisters, and after the death of her mother, from the age of nine, had been responsible for the house, becoming a full mistress of it, so that even her father dared not cross her. Catherine was loved for her calm, judicious character, her sober mind, and her ability to help in reading and interpreting the Scriptures (although the pastor was not happy with this liberty). Despite her young age, the girl deliberately did not marry, although many village men offered her marriage, but Catherine had a good reason – she could not "leave" her father and sisters, especially the younger Cassie. Catherine was like her father – sensible, as deeply religious, kind, hardworking, patient, and even in appearance could not be doubted in her origin: quite tall, thin, with a beautiful face, on which stood out chiselled cheekbones and large brown eyes. Her wavy, dark hair was never loose, but carefully hid it under a bonnet. Catherine was not only a hostess, but also a glorious daughter and sister: after the death of her mother, she raised her sisters, and family was everything to her, after faith, of course.
The pastor's middle daughter Christine differed from her older sister in everything: she was a little lazy, did not like physical labour and was often reluctant to do what Catherine demanded of her. Christine especially did not like to take care of their younger sister Cassie, who she considered a burden and undeservedly absorbed the amazing beauty. Christine pushed Cassie away from her and, despite the fact that deep in her heart loved her, could not forgive her for "killing" her mother. The girl was rather selfish and narcissistic, but very beautiful, and this fact was known to her: slim figure, dark brown eyes framed by long thick lashes, wavy dark hair. Like her older sister, Christine took after her father, but unlike Catherine, who did not pay much attention to her good looks, Christine knew how to emphasise her beauty even in the desperate poverty of Walsingham, which she hated. In her twenty-three years, like Catherine, she was unmarried but for selfish reasons. But, even knowing her capricious nature, the Walsingham people loved Christine: she was too beautiful.
The village was especially fond of the youngest Glowford girl, Cassandra, who everyone affectionately called Cassie, a lovely seventeen-year-old girl with unruly, curly, golden hair, like her mother's, and almost dark blue eyes. She was a ray of light in the grey life of the village: playful, cheerful, awkward and kind, Cassie was embarrassed by strangers, and this gave her a special charm. She loved Catherine dearly, but was afraid of Christine. Cassandra's favourite pastimes were playing with her doll, gazing at the flowers and the bugs on them, and in summer running around the neighbourhood in the company of the local children.
The Glowford sisters attended all the services their father conducted, but each of the girls felt differently about church: Katharine listened reverently to her father's voice, followed the Scriptures when he referred to them, and sang hymns with enthusiasm; Christine, on the other hand, felt that she was wasting her time and thought about anything but God during the services, while Cassandra often slept sitting in the pew with her head covered with a white bonnet on Katharine's shoulder, and when she woke up she always laughed at the obscure words and funny, in her opinion, phrases of Scripture.
Life in Walsingham was as quiet as a nearly dried-up brook: the people lived immersed in their own little world, in their own community, but the appearance of a new face in it, the Landlord, stirred them, and they looked forward to the Sunday mass of tomorrow.
Chapter 2
– And why is everyone so eagerly awaiting this lord's arrival? – Catherine asked her father as the Glowfords went to bed.
The Glowfords' cottage was old and small, but the sisters and their father lived in separate rooms: with Cassie's birth, the parson had divided the large room into two, leaving the daughters the larger one, while he contented himself with a corner that contained his sleeping mat, a chest of belongings, and a large wooden crucifix on the wall. The rooms were connected by a roughly carved doorway, and the family could communicate from room to room.
– Because their hearts are filled with hope," the pastor replied briefly to the daughter's question, interrupting her prayer for an answer.
– But why is he coming now, in the spring, when we have already gone through a terrible winter? – Catherine asked, not satisfied with her father's answer.
– Because God sends him when he is most needed," the pastor replied with a sigh.
– Will you ask him for the church? – Catherine asked again.
– Can't you be quiet? I'm trying to sleep! – Christine, curled up on her mattress under a rough woollen blanket, dreaming of tomorrow.
– We are talking with father about very important matters! – Kate said to her reproachfully. – Will the new lord repair the church and give us a new organ?
– Of course I'll ask him for the church, but I won't insist. You know that the true church is our souls, and in the parish we gather to honour God with common prayers and hymns for His grace, and no more. My dear, there is no need to deify a stone building," Pastor Glowford said with a slight reproach to his eldest daughter.
There was silence in the house for a few moments, and the pastor was able to continue his prayer.
– Cassie needs a new dress," Kate said thoughtfully, and stroked the head of her sister, who slept beside her on her mattress. – Her old one is all worn out.
– Well, of course! Cassie's getting her third dress this year! – grumbled Christine, who had only received one dress for the year.
– You should read the Bible more and pray to God for guidance," Catherine told her earnestly, believing it would make her more sensible.
– Cassie does nothing around the house but run round the field and catch bugs. Why should she get a new dress? – Christine said with undisguised anger.
Catherine sighed deeply, irritated by her sister's words: in her opinion, Christine's misfortune was that she was not diligent in serving the Lord, so her soul was filled with envy and resentment that the best things did not go to her.
– Christine, please pray," said the pastor, who had to interrupt her prayer again. – And you, Catherine, sew up Cassie's dress. We can't get a new one right now.
Pastor Glowford knew that there was little friendship between his daughters: Kate and Cassie were always together, but Christine tried to avoid socialising with them and often left the house for long periods of time. Talks and sermons did not help, and the pastor tried to ignore his daughters' relations, immersing himself in the affairs and sorrows of his parishioners: he knew that prudent Catherine would cope with the house and Christine's character, and that Christine herself would soften after marriage, and Cassie would always be close to Catherine, who would not let anyone hurt her.
When the pastor thought of his youngest daughter, his heart was filled with love, pity and remorse: there was a time when sin had broken his faith and made him a bitter drunkard, and neither wife nor children could save him. During this black streak Mrs. Glowford became pregnant for the third time, and Cassandra was born, while the mother died of a haemorrhage after struggling to unburden herself. The pastor was left alone with three daughters, one of whom was an infant. He did not know what to do, his hands were down, but his eldest nine-year-old daughter Catherine took care of the child, replacing her mother. Christine cried for a long time and did not want to even look at Cassie, because she considered her guilty for the death of her mother, to whom Christine was very attached. Cassie's birth brought the pastor out of darkness into light: he took up his work again and worked hard and almost without rest to feed his daughters. Cassie became a sign from God that helped him out of his drunkenness, but when the little girl was five years old, the pastor noticed with despair her developmental delays: she could not walk, but could only crawl, and she spoke in separate sounds and letter combinations. From then on, the pastor fell into a religious ecstasy: he considered Cassie's illness as God's punishment for his sin, so he began to love her more than his older daughters. Cassie was his suffering and pain, a reminder of his black sin. And now Cassandra was seventeen years old, but she had the mind of a six-year-old child, and if the village lads were suitors for Catherine and Christine, none were suitors for Cassie, nor would the parson himself put his treasure in the wrong hands.
***
Christine lay embracing her knees and wept silently: her soul could not bear the poverty that surrounded her, and all the men who asked her to marry her were poor like herself. She cried that here, in this rotten place, her beauty would fade in vain, and her life would remain the life of a poor pastor's daughter. In her heart she thought, sharp as a needle, why should Cassie want such beauty, with her sick mind? She hated her poor sister for it.
Cassie, on the other hand, had no idea that they were poor, no idea how hard food and clothes were to get, no idea that she was sick. She lived the joyful life of a child and was happy just to exist. Cassie slept the sound sleep of a child, in the arms of Catherine, whom she loved as much as children love their mother.
***
In the morning the church was full of people: everyone came, even the sick and heavy-lifting old people (their sons and sons-in-law brought them in their arms). Everyone was curious to see the new Landlord of Walsingham: they even made a new pew for him and put it in the front row on the left (for this purpose they had to move the other pews closer to the exit). But the Sunday mass had already begun, and the pew was still empty: the lord was not coming, and the peasants began to lose hope of his appearance. Some of them begged the pastor to postpone the service until the Lord arrived, but the pastor refused, saying that no one had the right to keep God waiting. The service continued. A chorus of voices rose to the roof, skewed by time and the heavy snows that covered it every winter.
Suddenly one of the belated parishioners came hurriedly into the church: he whispered something in the ear of a near neighbour, the latter became agitated and whispered in the ear of another, and soon a whisper ran through the church: "He's coming, he's coming!" The Glowfords were excited too, but not Cassie for she was asleep with her head resting on the back of the pew.
The peasants' eyes centred on the church door, and soon indeed the one they had been waiting for so eagerly appeared, but he was not alone: there were two gentlemen, and the peasants were wondering which of them was the landlord of Walsingham.
The gentlemen entered the church at a leisurely walk, and stopping at the very back of the pews, almost touching the wall, took the vacant seats, and began to look cautiously, leisurely at the modest decoration of the church. Two country lads immediately brought the gentlemen a pew made for them: the lords smiled, thanked them, and moved to it, inviting the obliging little ones to sit down beside them. The gentlemen seemed unwilling to draw attention to themselves and behaved quietly and modestly.
Both gentlemen were dressed in fine, expensive travelling suits, which made them an incredible curiosity in the eyes of the unpretentious, old rags clad Walsinghamians. The lords were quite young (Pastor Glowford, a judge of such things, gave them no more than thirty-five years of age), handsome and dapperly dressed. The peasants gazed at them with rapt attention and whispered, but the pastor called them loudly to return to the service and to sing a hymn of praise to the Lord.
The congregation, as one, rose from their pews. The lords who had arrived did likewise. The poor people had realised that it was unseemly to gaze at the noble lords and now carefully averted their curious glances, but the girls continued to sneak glances at the gentlemen. The three old women looked at the lords shamelessly and frowned, thinking that this must be the way the rich birds dressed, which, of course, they had never seen before.
One of the lords looked round the church and the congregation, scrutinising their faces.
– Who is that grey-haired old man with the stick? – he whispered to one of the young men standing nearby.
– That's Clif, our watchman," the young man replied cautiously, pleased and honoured to be spoken to by such a noble man.
– Watchman? And what does he guard? – The lord asked with a chuckle.
– The old mill," replied the lad.
– And who is that lady surrounded by children?
– That's our laundress Lilith.
– All those children are hers?
– Yes, she has eight children.
Of course, the country lad had no idea that a polite and respectful "sir" was required.
The gentleman smiled and continued looking at the villagers.
– How many children are there in the village? – He asked again.
– God knows. A lot! – The boy replied, shrugging his shoulders. – Ask the pastor, he's an educated man, not like us.
The curious gentleman's companion grinned: it seemed to him that he was in the Middle Ages, for the peasants were so horribly dressed, and the dilapidated church so poor.
– It seems to me, my friend, that with the manor you have become a great burden," he whispered to his noble friend.
– Yes, that's true," he said with a mocking smile.
– But you can change all that. These people seem to be no different from medieval manners.
– That's likely. If not manners, then religion.
Suddenly the first gentleman saw Catherine and Christine Glowfords: they stood almost at the altar, occupying the first pew. Christine's beauty immediately caught the lord's eye, and he turned again to his local informant.
– Who are those girls? – The lord asked quietly, nodding in the direction of the unfamiliar beauties.
– Which ones? – The lad didn't understand. – We have a lot of them in our village.
– The ones standing next to the grey-haired old woman whose head is shaking.
– The ones? They're the Glowfords, our parson's daughters. He's such a good man, our pastor!
– What are these girls' names?
– 'Kate and Chris,' replied the lad, in a rustic manner.
– The one in the white bonnet with the lace, who is she?
– Chris. Pretty, I tell you, but she's got a nose for everyone.
The lord scrutinised the figure of the girl who interested him and the soft, surprisingly beautiful profile of her face. Christine noticed someone's gaze on her and turned to look at the lord, frowning her lovely dark eyebrows at him. Her brown eyes, framed by long lashes, looked straight into the eyes of the noble gentleman, but when she saw that he was looking at her intently, the girl blushed slightly, became embarrassed, turned away hastily, and ducked her gaze into the open book she held in her hands.
"What a beautiful girl. It is amazing that in this wilderness you can find a treasure in the form of such a fresh rose" – thought the lord, still not taking his eyes off the beautiful girl: even in her old, rough dress, Christine was very beautiful. Kate, too, seemed pretty to the lord, but her beauty was pale and commonplace against Christine's.
When the congregation had finished singing the hymn, Pastor Glowford invited the new landlord down the aisle so that his subjects could see him.
