Marple and the Chartists 4 - part 2

“Was Oliver Cromwell a Puritan?”

“Yes, I think he was. Anyway, he was the figure head of the revolt. He was the person who set up the armies in opposition to the King, and those armies in the end defeated Charles in Scotland.”

“So Charles was then captured and put in prison?”

“Yes, apparently, the story goes that Charles thought that he could give in, and then become King of the Scots, as it all happened in Scotland, but nobody was having that. He was taken to the Tower to await his trial.”

“That must have been hard for him.”

“He apparently didn’t even want to speak in his own defense. He felt that they had no right to question him. He felt he, as King, had a divine right to do what he wanted.”

“So nobody heard his point of view then?”

“After the trial was over, and the judgement of death by beheading had been passed down, he then wanted to talk, but John Bradshawe wouldn’t let him.”

“Why not? That seems really unkind.”

“Well it says in the Magna Carta, which was the rule book they were following the whole time, that if a judgement has been passed, that is the end of it. Nothing more should be said. So he refused to let Charles say anything.”

“Oh, look at this writing on the bed,” I said as I dusted the headboard.

“He that is unmerciful, mercy shall miss; but he shall have mercy that merciful is.

“But he wasn’t very merciful was he, with the King, I mean?

“Here’s another one: Love God, not gold. Sleep not until U consider how U have spent the time; if well, thank God, if not, repent.

“As interesting as these things are, I think you had best concentrate on dusting and leave the history for another time, young Eliza. We have loads more work to do yet this day.”

So reluctantly, I spent the rest of the morning dusting the heavy furniture and delicate china, wishing with each piece to hear its history but knowing that to ask would not be met with approval just now.

Lunch was at one p.m. with the other servants in the kitchen, all sitting around a big table. I was introduced to the others.

“This here is Matilda Edwards,” said Mrs. Hood, the cook, “She’s Mrs. Isherwood’s private maid. You’ve met Eliza of course, but the other housemaid is Ann Metcalfe. Joseph Chun is our main Farm Manger, and he comes from Shropshire, which he is forever telling us is miles better than we have got here in Cheshire,” she said with a good natured glance at the elderly man. “And little Fredrick Williamson is the next to you in age being 16. He is our errand boy. For those who don’t know, this young lass drowning in her uniform is Eliza Hyde, protégée of our mistress, who will be coming on mornings in September. So be kind to her or you will hear more from the Mistress.”

Then all smiled or nodded but got on with their very necessary task of getting as much food into their mouths as quickly as humanly possible. The food was good and plentiful. I was in wonder that these servants got better food than we had a home even for our special holiday fare.

After lunch and until my time was up for the day, I was set to polish silver. I was given the tableware first off, and shown how to put the polish on, then take it off, then buff the implement until it shone enough to see one’s face in. It was hard work and boring, as I was left on my own, rather than having the chatty company of the morning. But I was sitting while I was doing it, and there was a pleasant fire in the kitchen where I was working, so I didn’t feel too hard done by.

When six o’clock came, Mrs. Isherwood again came into the kitchen and came up to me.

“And how have you found the work? Do you think you can cope?”

“It was fine, thank you Ma’am. I hope I did it all to your expectations.”

“I am sure I will hear about it if not, and so far I have only heard good things,” said Mrs. Isherwood. “So you will take your uniform home, and make it to your own measurements, and then in early September when you come I will expect you here to start at eight in the morning. Does that suit?”

“Yes, of course, I will do that. And thank you Ma’am. I have learnt a lot today - not just about dusting and polishing but about history, about John Bradshawe and the ghosts.”

“Oh, no doubt you will learn a great deal of history, at least one point of view of history while you are working here. Remember that what you hear will be the official Bradshaw line - since this is a Bradshaw house. There are others who will see history somewhat differently.”

“Oh, yes, I understand. I will keep an open mind at what I am told,” I said, and Mrs. Isherwood couldn’t help smiling.

“And when I next see you, hopefully I will have something specific to tell you about our friend Johnny,” said Mrs. Isherwood. “You will have to keep your sister happy in the meantime by saying that I will do my best.”

“I do thank you Mrs. Isherwood, and good night.”

“Good night, Eliza and have a good week.”

So I skipped on home, taking somewhat longer going as I was tired, and had a lot to think about. Mainly I had to think of what I was going to tell my sister. It took me 40 minutes of up-hill walking before I reached the precincts of the church, (map above) I knocked on the parsonage door. This time it was one of the other maids who answered, Ann Cobb, who was a good 10 years older than Beth. “Please may I speak to my sister,” I asked.

“She is busy, or she is supposed to be, but I will check,” she said, leaving me standing outside.

But it was only minutes later when Beth appeared. “What have you found out? Do you know where he is?”

“Well, it isn’t good news, Beth. But I don’t know exactly how bad it is. It seems that Johnny is in jail in Stockport.”

“In jail? But why? What did he do?”

“I only know that Mrs. Isherwood said he had been involved in some bad things that happened in Stockport last week. She said they thought he was a ringleader and that she didn’t know what would happen next, but she would try to find out.”

“But did she know what he did? He had lots of plans and ideas for changing the world, and he is somewhat hotheaded, but he wouldn’t hurt anyone. I just know he wouldn’t.”

“She doesn’t know what he did - or what they thought he might have done. She just knows that the Constable was around asking her about him.”

“How should she know anything about him?”

“She says he was one of those who turned up at the Hall last week and tried to break in.”

“What? But nothing was said about it in the village. What happened?”

“Well, I don’t know, but I think Mrs. Isherwood recognised some of the boys and told them to go home and behave, and they got embarrassed and off they went.”

“I still don’t know how she would have known Johnny enough to recognise him. It’s not like he goes to church or anything.”

“I don’t know either. You’ll have to ask her. Anyway, she promised she would see if she could find out more about him to tell me when I start work. Now I want to go home. I am exhausted and famished. I have not worked so hard in my life.”

Beth laughed, “Welcome to the real world of grown ups. If you thought today was difficult, you had better buck up your ideas, because I have a feeling that it probably will be the easiest day of work you will ever have.”

My parents were very eager to hear about my day’s activities too - and I told them all I had learned about Judge John Bradshawe and his part in the death of Charles I. “I didn’t find out much, and there is so much more to learn. He must have been a holy man because carved on painted panels on either side of the fireplace he has this verse from Proverbs. I didn’t have to memorise it because I already knew it.

“Though thou be in years counted as ancient as Satan, in wisdom as wise as Solomon, in power as mighty as Alexander, in wealth as rich as Croesus, and in Beauty as Flora: yet if thou be careless of religion and of thy God, thou art a wretch, most vile and miserable.

“And on the other side:

“My son hear the instruction of thy father and forsake not the law of thy mother, they shall be an ornament of grace unto thy head, and chains about thy neck. Long life and peace shall they add unto thee. Remember true wisdom is the principal thing, and a good conscience the best estate.”