Saraband for Two Sisters

And finally the King had signed the death warrant and Strafford was executed. That had been in May, three months before Arabella was born. I was enough aware of what was happening in the country to realize that this event was the most momentous so far and that the cloud which had been on the horizon was now overhead. But then I was a woman whose child would come into the world in three months’ time, and that seemed of greater importance to me than anything else. Events kept Richard away from home. Whether he stayed away more than he needed, I did not know. It seemed that he no longer suggested Angelet should join him in Whitehall. She told me that the situation was too serious for any thought of entertaining there. He was constantly attending conferences with his fellow generals. Once he came over and rode out to the farm. He must have hung around waiting for me, I saw him and, as on that other occasion, I went out to see him. That was in May of ‘42. Arabella was nine months old -as healthy a child as any parents could wish to see.

Richard looked at me yearningly and all the old desire was immediately there between us as I leaned over the pales to talk to him.

“I had to see you,” he said. “We are on the brink of war. God knows what will become of us all.”

“I know. And you and my husband will be on opposing sides.”

He waved that aside as though it were unimportant “The child ...” he said.

“She is the most beautiful child in the world.”

“A perfect child?” he asked anxiously.

“Wait awhile.” And I went into the house and brought her out to him.

He looked at her in something like adoration while she regarded him with dignified solemnity.

“A perfect child,” he said, and I knew that he was thinking of that monster shut up in the castle. “It is like you,” he went on, “to show me that I could have a perfect child.”

“I never doubted that my child would be,” I answered.

“Oh, Bersaba, thank you for that brief happiness.”

‘Was it happiness?” I asked.

‘Tor a few hours, yes,” he answered.

“At least it happened,” I said. “But it is over now. She will always be here to remind me.”

I held her close to me and I thought, “She is my consolation; she is my comfort” And I thought, “Poor Richard, who lacks that comfort.”

“You are content in your marriage?” he asked.

“As content as I could be away from you.”

“Bersaba ... you say such words that delight me ... and yet fill me with hopelessness.»

“You have Angelet. She is a part of me. She is good and I am far from good. Try to remember that.”

“I try to be kind to her. I would that she did not sometimes remind me of you. Every time I look at her...”

“Good-bye, Richard.”

“I do not know when we shall meet again. There is about to be a bloody war-the worst kind of war, Bersaba. I can happily fight the Spaniards or the French. It is a different matter when it must be my own countrymen. The country is split. The north and the west, Wales and Cornwall, are for the King, and here in the southeast and the manufacturing districts they are for the Parliament. We shall soon subdue the enemy, never fear, but there will be a violent struggle first” I left him then and carried my baby into the farmhouse.

I had lost him; I would never know that ecstasy which he alone could give me; and he was a sad and lonely man who was about to be drawn into a conflict distasteful to him. But I should never forget his face as he had looked at our child-our perfect little girl, our Arabella.

At least I had done something for him.

In August of that year, when Arabella was a year old, the King set up his standard at Nottingham. By that time I was pregnant with Luke’s child.

Luke was in a state of great excitement. That which he had been preaching against for so long was about to be destroyed. He was as certain of the success of the Parliamentary cause as Richard had been for that of the Royalists. People were beginning to talk of Cavaliers and Roundheads. The Cavaliers were so called by those people who had attacked the officers of the Court who circled about Whitehall; it was meant to be an abusive epithet implying that these gentlemen were of loose morals and idle. The term Roundhead was said to have come into use during one of the increasingly numerous riots when a certain officer had drawn his sword against the mob. He had shouted that he would cut the throats of those roundheaded dogs who bawled against the bishops.

At this time the Royalists appeared to have everything in their favor. The trained army was Royalist, while the Parliament had only those who went to fight with a great belief in the righteousness of their cause. As Puritans they believed that God must help them, for they saw themselves as His people, but God was not responsive. The battles of Edgehill and Brentford were indecisive and the following spring the Cornish Royalists had claimed the west for die King.