Charity Begins
Charles was a lowly cordwainer (a cobbler in modern terms). A religious man whose wife died during the plague outbreak in 1665. He lived in an isolated community in Essex, with his only daughter Charity.
Age and failing eyesight meant that he could no longer make much of a living. He worried about his
daughter who, having reached the age of 18 was still unmarried. His concerns were mainly because he had maintained her sheltered upbringing, deliberately keeping her away from other people -- especially young men. The exception being the Pastor and his wife, who they usually saw on Sundays at the small building that served as a church for the local community.
Realising that he could no longer support both himself and Charity, Charles came up with an idea and at the next church meeting, he approached the Pastor.
"Pastor Smith, as you know, I'm getting old and my hands are tired and weak. I am unable to do as much as I used to, and my income is poor nowadays. I am a frugal man and I can survive on truly little, but I fear for my daughter Charity. She is a good girl, a hard worker and carries out all the household duties that her Mother used to do. I wonder... would it be asking too much if you could see your way to providing a roof over her head? She could work for her food and lodging, so you would not have to pay her. I'm sure that your wife would welcome such able help around the house."
"Well William, I can understand your troubles. How old are you now? Sixty-two?"
"Sixty-seven Summers, this June Pastor. I feel fortunate that my father taught me to count when I was young, so that I could keep track as the years went by. People said he was foolish to do so, as I only need to count two shoes!" he joked.
"It's not surprising then that your body is struggling. Not many men make it to your age. As for your daughter, well, I had been thinking that Elizabeth could do with a little help. I had been thinking about a young woman to come in occasionally, but a permanent addition to our household? I will have to think about that. I will let you know next Sunday."
William had not mentioned his idea to Charity yet, but he knew that he would have to broach the subject soon, because if the Pastor agreed, she might well not be accompanying him home in seven days' time. He prayed that the Pastor would agree, because he knew that Charity would be safe and looked after under their protection. She would be in a Christian environment, far from the temptations of the young farm hands in the area. But he just could not find the right time to explain his plan.
One week later, Charles' prayers were answered when Pastor Smith confirmed his agreement to take Charity as a household servant and to continue her religious education. But now he had to explain to his daughter. She was waiting for him outside.
"Charity, I am old. I am tired and I can no longer earn enough to keep us both."
"Oh! Father!" She was taken by surprise by this sudden admission. She had realised that her father was struggling but had hoped that God would help find a way to improve their situation.
"Ever since your Mother passed -- bless her soul -- all I have ever wanted to do is to provide for and protect you. I can no longer do this, so I have made a decision."
Charity knew that he was about to tell her something that would change her life and she dreaded what she was going to hear.
"I have spoken to the Pastor and he has agreed to take you into his home as a servant, to help his wife in her daily duties. He has agreed to continue your religious education. I know that you will work hard and earn your keep. I know that you will be a good girl and make me proud."
"Oh, Father! Are you sure? How will you manage without me?"
"I need very little child and I'm sure that I can earn just enough to feed myself."
"But Father..."
"No "buts" my dear. I am afraid it must happen. I took the liberty of bringing your things with us today."
Charity had wondered why her father had brought the sack with him. It was not exceptionally large -- she only had three shifts and two changes of clothes and she was already wearing her best set.
"Ah Charity my dear. Are you ready to accompany us home?" The Pastor stood just behind her, his wife alongside him. She was a mousy, but pleasant woman. Her kindness shone through her dowdy appearance.
"Come along Charity, there is much to be done and we want to get you settled. Then I can begin to teach you your duties."
Charity shed a single tear as she bade her father farewell, but more followed as she walked the short distance to the Pastor's house.
It was not a large property. The garden had been mostly given over to the growing of vegetables for the table and fruit. Of course, these were all seasonal, so Elizabeth was adept at preserving produce for use during the Winter months.
Once inside, Charity could see that the main room was dominated by the large fireplace. In the centre was an oak table with bench seats on opposite sides. The floor was smooth stone and had clearly been scrubbed regularly
The Pastor's wife explained, "This is the room in which we live, eat and pray." She pointed to the steep steps in the corner, which led up to a simple door. "That is where Pastor Smith and I sleep."
She turned and pointed, "That is the door that leads to the garden. This other door," again she pointed. "Will be your room." She walked across and unlatched it.
The ceiling was low and the room small, made even smaller by the shelves opposite the bed, stacked with jars, bottles and food. Clearly, this was originally purposed as a pantry. Just beyond the bed, there was another, smaller door. Elizabeth opened this and showed Charity the Scullery.
This was to be her home from now on.
*****
Charity was a handsome looking young woman and both Parson and Mrs Smith could understand Charles' concerns for her welfare. The Pastor had promised to maintain her religious studies, but his work (both parochial and physical) meant that he could only spare the necessary time at the end
of the day. So, while his wife retired up the tiny staircase to bed, He would sit with Charity in prayer and in religious discussion.
Of course, as this was the end of the day, and Charity was expected to rise early to clear the fireplace and re-light it, she would ready herself for bed first. As for most people of the time, when a woman retired to bed, she wore her shift, the same one that she had been wearing throughout the day. She had three of the garments, two were worn alternately, with the third -- and best -- reserved for Sunday alone.
It was possibly a week after Charity had started work at the Smith's house that, she was gradually given additional duties, one of which was to "put the fire to bed".
The fireplace and fire were arguably the most important part of any household. It provided warmth in cold weather, dried damp clothing hung in front of it and was the source of heat for cooking and baking. Charity understood that being given this responsibility was a true sign of trust.
So, on this evening, as Pastor Smith waited patiently, Charity crossed to the fireplace, hefted the large log that had been placed to the side and rolled it onto the embers. The fire had been allowed to burn down, so as not to waste fuel. The sleeper log would not burn easily, but would maintain an element of heat and, in the morning, would enable a rapid re-ignition of the fire.
Pastor Smith watched Charity at work. They had a single candle for light to add to the glow of the fire. But when she rolled the log on, that light faded rapidly.
Then, as Charity moved back away from the fire, she passed in front of the candle. Momentarily, her
body was outlined through the thin linen material of her shift. The Pastor saw this and found it necessary to keep his eyes averted afterwards to prevent himself from staring at the region of her breasts.
Distracted, they talked for a while and he asked her if she had any sins to confess.
"I'm not sure Pastor Smith. Because, perhaps, something that I do is a sin, and yet I do not know it?"
The Pastor smiled, "Child, you show wisdom beyond your years, to question yourself in this way. Perhaps we should pray that you receive guidance from above."
They had been sitting at the wooden table on a bench facing each other, having moved the candle between them. Charity moved towards the fireplace and knelt in front of the simple wooden cross that hung above it. She began her devotions
Pastor Smith watched her as she silently gave prayer. Now that she was facing away from him
he could allow his eyes to roam more freely, without fear of being espied. Charity's firm straight back showed the well-defined bones of her spine through the shift. As his eyes descended, they reached her posterior. She was sitting on the heels of her feet, with the toes pointing back toward him. For some reason, seeing the soles of her feet in this way he found sinfully arousing. Then, once she had finished her prayer, she began to get to her feet. The material of her shift hugged her buttocks as she rose on one knee and bent to stand.
The Pastor cleared his throat and said, "You had better retire to your bed now child. I will sit here for a while longer. You may take the candle with you."
The reality was that his erection would have been self-evident if he were to rise from the bench just now.
*****