Edwin understood the hearts of men. He knew their failings because, for the most part, he shared them.
He tried, God knows he tried, to overcome his desires. His good lady wife laboured to help him. In some ways that made things worse. If she had been like most wives she would have simply told him that he was wrong, or bad, or even evil. Instead, she just obliged him and said that he should try harder next time.
The wagon was not large but it was adequate, made from mainly beechwood with canvas tacked to the roof. The small marquee was stowed on top and they slept in the inner chamber with many of their belongings stored in the locker, an enclosed space between the living area and the roof. They would go from village to village along the back roads of Dorset. Not the medium or large villages nor the tiny hamlets but anywhere between. Those places that did not have a church.
In his younger days Edwin had been a dedicated drinker. He had seen the light. Now he sincerely needed to spread the word to other drinkers.
During the late morning they would arrive at their destination and set up the marquee on the village green or any such place. In front of it they would place a large placard which read 'Temperance Meeting Here Tonight 7-30'.
They would find somewhere for the horse to be fed and watered, and then the both of them would wander about the village distributing leaflets advertising the meeting.
Sometimes they would get a good crowd and sometimes there would only be a few poor souls to be saved.
Edwin would rant and Edwin would rave against the evil of 'The Demon Drink'.
Generally, people found the experience edifying. To be told that they are damned and then to be reassured that they could be saved always made the listeners feel uplifted. Besides, there wasn't any other form of entertainment in these out of the way places; other than the pub that was.
Titania, Edwin's wife of twenty years, would pass around the assembly collecting donations to help with the cost of spreading the word. They only had a few stools which they reserved for the elderly. Other people stood. Married couples together. The wife wished that her husband would change his ways. Occasional courting couples. The young lady wished that her man would never take to drinking. There were always lone men of varying ages, all of whom had their own private reasons for being there. Most of them wished that their life was different.
By the end of the evening, many of the people were so struck by Edwin's passion that they went off to the pub determined that first thing tomorrow they would give up imbibing alcohol for good. The landlord rarely resented the Ranter because his ranting usually made people thirsty.
The next morning Edwin and Titania would dismantle the marquee and stow it on top of the wagon's roof and store the rigging in the locker. They would then move on. Winter and Summer the couple pursued their mission.
Titania had never been very religious but she loved the Christian rituals, the Anglican rituals that is. Those that marked the changing of the season. Those that had been practised for hundreds of years. This love sprung from her upbringing in a solid family. Each festival of the year was marked exactly as it should be. But Christmas was special.
Her father was a doctor in a small Devon town. Her parents had been loyal, true and loving to each other. Titania was their only child. It was their enthusiasm for tee-totalism that had driven her passion at first but now it was her love for Edwin. It was largely her parents' money that had sponsored the Temperance Wagon.
Winter in the wagon was hard but Titania and Edwin kept Christmas as best they could. They made the wagon cosy and warm. But sometimes she wished for those long gone family Christmases.
They had met at a Temperance Society meeting. Titania had never been a drinker but she had seen the damage that it could do. She wanted to do all she could to end the evil. Edwin had been saved but he was still fighting his other demons.
They married. It soon became clear that drink was not his only vice.
At first Titania found it exciting but Edwin was always filled with remorse afterwards. She made it clear that she understood his fears.
When standing in the marquee, Edwin's aim was to save his listeners from drunkenness. He knew that simply saying that they would feel better, or save money, or that they would be a better father or mother wasn't going to be enough of an argument. He had to convince people that they would be admitted to the Kingdom of Heaven if they abstained, even though he wasn't convinced that they would.
He had no strong feelings either way, to his shame he was a Laodicean.
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The 24th day of December 1874
Since dawn flurries of snow had drifted in the frosty wind. It had been difficult to stow the stiff canvas of the marquee.
Edwin and Titania pulled onto the tiny village green just before midday. It was just as difficult to unpack and erect the tent. None of the villagers had taken pity on them enough to help but an elderly lady had felt sorry for Hercules and had allowed him to take shelter from the bitter cold in her stable. At least he would be able to eat warm oats.
After a little lunch, the couple trod the lanes handing out their leaflets.
Back in the warmth of the wagon they felt the blood returning to their fingers and toes.
Edwin gazed into the little charcoal burner the occasional flash of red reflected on his face.
"A penny for your thoughts, my love," said Titania, "although I could easily guess the foremost one."
"If you know, please don't make me ask. I have struggled with it for some time now."
Titania smiled understandingly, "I know that you would not have given up the fight easily. You don't need to ask me, I will do it willingly if that is your wish."
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That evening the gathering was sparse. The old lady who had kindly stabled Hercules, three married couples and a solitary young man, that was all.
Edwin was on top form. Passion coursed through him. He managed to strike the exact balance between warning of the danger of alcohol and reassurance that God and Jesus weren't Killjoys. The festive season was a time to be jolly and enjoy yourselves but not to drink alcohol.
Titania passed around the collection bag and found that the congregation was more generous than she had expected. Nobody refused. Passion coursed through her body too. She wasn't sure if the passion was coming from him or if it was of her own making.
As the young man dropped his ha'penny in, she slipped him a little note.
Just before he left, he held the paper beneath one of the oil lamps. It read, 'Please come to the wagon at nine o'clock. My husband will not be with us'.
When Titania finally counted the coins there was a total of four pence.
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The Ranter's wife waited in the faint glow of the wagon's turned down lamplight. She wore nothing but her cotton shift. She had added a pine cone to the charcoal burner which gave a festive smell to the wagon. She had waited like this before but now, as on each previous occasion, she shook with anticipation.
At nine promptly there was a knock on the wooden door.
"It is open. Come in," called Titania.
A nervous looking face appeared from the darkness outside. Then the young man climbed the steps.
A pause and then another face came out of the gloom attached to an identical looking young lad. He quickly shut out the cold night.
