Not Without Mercy The Black Death

By Phillip C Wright

The Black Death--the first volume in the series Not Without Mercy--tells the story of William Beorn, a successful merchant and ship builder in Bristol England in 1348 who finds himself at the dawn of the world's most perilous outbreak, the Black Plague. William must save his wife Jillian, their adopted son Michael and the rest of his family and friends from the inevitable devastation of Bristol, and the probability of becoming one of the casualties of the plague which took the lives of twenty five million people, over one third of Europe's population.

The Black Plague caused a moral malaise throughout the land that grew greed, selfishness, insecurity, fear, brutality and wickedness. It caused the fearful to become faithless and the faithful to become fearless. Each struggled with the adversity and uncertainty differently, for some it was the end, but for others like William it was the beginning as they discovered that God had left them Not Without Mercy

."WARNING" If you can't handle a heart-wrenching story of a family's survival in the midst of death and destruction, this book is not for you! HOWEVER, if you like the
Historical fiction style of books by Ken Follett and the excitement of writers like James Patterson or John Grisham, you will LOVE the Not Without Mercy series by Phillip C. Wright!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Phillip C Wright
• Release date: Jan 27, 2014

Phillip C Wright

Mr. Wright is not new to the publishing world, neither is he a novice at writing. In fact, he has worked professionally as a writer, director and producer of television and radio productions, commercials, documentaries and infomercials. He won the coveted Silver Telly Award for a television productions for THE YELLOW JACKET TRAP, by Stirling International, two other Telly Awards, and five Silver Microphone awards on radio commercials for Nissan. Phillip C. Wright is a resident of Bountiful, Utah. He has been married to Shaun (McKinney) Wright since 1982. They are the parents of seven children, and they have six grandchildren. He has written and directed numerous plays including a full length musical re-creation with Brett Raymond called "First Light" with an original cast over 200 people. Phill is in the process of publishing several new books. The NOT WITHOUT MERCY series begun with the first volume, THE BLACK DEATH. The series will contain at least two more volumes, book two, THE PASSAGE HOME, to be released in 2014 and book three, REDEMPTION, will be released in 2014, along with two other books, TIME AND TIME AGAIN and THE ARM OF THE FLESH.

Book preview

This is a work of fi ction. Some of the events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specifi c places or living persons. This book is based on historic events. It also includes characters that are real and who did exsist, such as Pope Clement VI King Edward II and many others. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.

Not Without Mercy

The Black Death

All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © 2012 Phillip C. Wright

v4.0

Cover Photo © 2012 Holly Bailey. All rights reserved - used with permission.

This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Outskirts Press, Inc.

http://www.outskirtspress.com

ISBN: 978-0-578-11119-3

Outskirts Press and the OP logo are trademarks belonging to Outskirts Press, Inc.

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

About the Author

Phillip C. Wright is a resident of Bountiful, Utah. He has been married to Shaun (McKinney) Wright since 1982. They are the parents of seven children (Four of whom are married) and three granddaughters. Phillip, known by most as Phill, has spent the majority of his professional career in the financial services area. His education is in public relations and finance. He has worked professionally as a writer, director and producer of documentaries, TV and Radio commercials and infomercials where he won Telly Awards for video productions including a Silver Telly Award for the infomercial production he wrote and produced for Sterling International the makers of the Yellow Jacket Trap. He also won five Silver Microphone awards for radio commercials. He served ten years as the president of a community theatre. He has written and directed numerous plays including a full length musical re-creation with Brett Raymond called First Light" with an original cast over 200 people. He is currently in the process of writing book two, The Passage Home, of the Not Without Mercy series.

Contents

About the Author

Prologue

Chapter One: Unknown Stowaway

Chapter Two: Forgive Us Our Trespasses

Chapter Three: Children of the Street

Chapter Four: A Thorough Cleaning

Chapter Five: The Shipyard

Chapter Six: Love at Home

Chapter Seven: Boys will be Boys

Chapter Eight: A Child is born

Chapter Nine: If I were Lost…

Chapter Ten: Mark of the Half Moon

Chapter Eleven: The Courage to Write

Chapter Twelve: A Dangerous Exchange

Chapter Thirteen: A Horrible Sacrifice

Chapter Fourteen: The Road to Cardiff

Chapter Fifteen: The Light Tower

Chapter Sixteen: Life in Cardiff

Chapter Seventeen: The Road to Bristol

Chapter Eighteen: The Unexpected Cargo

Chapter Nineteen: The Return Without

Chapter Twenty: Love Never lasts

Chapter Twenty One: Till Death Do Us Part

Chapter Twenty Two: Ring Around the Roses

Chapter Twenty Three: A Deadly Decision

Chapter Twenty Four: Not Without Mercy

Epilogue

Characters List

Acknowledgements

Preview NOT WITHOUT MERCY - The Passage Home

Prologue

Several years ago I abruptly woke from a deep sleep at the end of a brief but disturbing dream. I dreamt that I was watching a scene unfold in the town of Bristol, England in the year 1348 during the Black Plague. Prior to this dream, I had never given any thought to Bristol, England, and I knew extremely little about the Black Plague or life in the 14th century.

I appeared to be standing a few feet away from a large four post bed of a wealthy man in his late forties. He was giving instructions to a younger man in his early twenties. He instructed the young man, …take my wife and young son and daughter to safety, to my wife’s mother’s home in Cardiff, Wales. He told the young man that he would join them in a few days when he regained his strength. He then pointed to a large wooden trunk which the young man opened. It was filled with gold coins and treasure. He instructed the young man to take the trunk, the sum of his worldly possessions, with his family. The young man looked at the treasure, and his heart turned to stone as he realized the treasure that sat before him would make him a rich man. He walked over to the wealthy man who was tired and weak from sickness. He lifted a pillow and placed it over the man’s head and held it tightly until the man stopped struggling, and then died. The young man lifted the trunk carried it outside in the midst of a heavy rainstorm and loaded it onto the carriage. He told the wealthy man’s wife that her husband had died, but prior to his death and with his last breath instructed him to take care of the family.

The dream was so real that I awoke with a rapid heartbeat and heavy breathing. For many days, I wondered if it was just a dream, or was it a vision--a glimpse into the last moments of a life of someone who was not just a figment of my imagination, but a real person who actually lived. I could not get the scene out of my mind and eventually decided to write it down. Years later the entire story unfolded to me, and it became my first novel.

Although the story changed over time as I began to write it, and the characters and their lives all came to life for me, I never forgot that dream and the impact it had on me. It caused me to write the incredible story about the life of one man who struggled to save his family from certain death of the world’s most deadly killer of all time--the Black Plague.

As the Black Plague progressed throughout Europe and death became common place, it left two kinds of people; the faithful and the faithless. The faithful drew closer to God and the faithless, wandered further away. Much of the land had fallen into moral malaise. NOT WITHOUT MERCY THE BLACK DEATH is a novel about life, love, faith, family and hope. While the lives of millions were cut short, most of those who survived re-discovered the sanctity of life, the importance of love, the power of faith and the endurance of hope. William was a man of faith, honor and integrity. He would do whatever it took to protect and save his family from the plague. His wife Jillian, embodied love, gentleness and ardent charity. Michael, their adopted son, changed their lives for better, and for worse.

I do not believe our lives are predestined to some predetermined outcome, and that we have no choice in the matter. I believe that our agency, next life, is the greatest gift God has given us. God gives us life and agency what we, do with it, is our destiny.

Phillip C. Wright

26719.jpg

To Sammy, it’s never too late

to be who God wants you to be.

26719.jpg

Chapter One

Unknown Stowaway

"Every man must do two things alone;

he must do his own believing and his own dying."

Martin Luther

Adirty grey cargo ship veiled by black fog slowly and silently swept across the Bristol Bay. As it anchored shrouded in a damp and musty breeze the noise of anxious workers began to fill the dock, welcoming its cargo of fine linen, cotton, silk, flour, exotic fruits and one unknown stowaway from the East.

The early morning sun slowly cut its way through the darkness of the fog. The black fog, thick and eerily dense, gradually lifted leaving behind the mark of an unwanted visitor whose presence had already impacted the lives of hundreds of thousands from Eastern Mongolia to Egypt, Western and then Eastern Europe and the Middle East. Today it disembarked into the unassuming modest shipping town of Bristol, England.

Once ashore it immediately left the ship and silently crept from one house to another. Unseen and unheard it quickly attacked its unsuspecting victim sinking its teeth deep into the flesh and inflicting a substance that caused slow and painful death, usually within hours or days. The victim welcomed death as an end to the lingering, agonizing pain and misery. Lethargy overcame the body accompanied by high fever, delirium, boils under the arms and in the groin, black circles on the skin and dried blood as flesh decayed from the inside out. The un-assaulted lived in unguarded fear of becoming the next prey of this virulent and unyielding blood-sucking killer.

Thirteen Hundred and Forty-Eight was the beginning of the Pestilence of Great Mortality—as it became known in those days in England and all of Europe—only later to be called The Black Death.

Physicians used every remedy they knew and tonic they could concoct but nothing would stop the sickness from killing once it entered the blood stream. It seemed as though nothing would stop it from spreading. Even the greatest minds of the day disagreed about its origins and none could agree on how it spread. For William, it seemed that the most pertinent question was how did it spread from person-to-person and so quickly? Radical ideas on how to defeat it began to multiply throughout the land. Some believed that it was a curse from God to remove the tares from the wheat; the wicked from the righteous. Others thought it came as the result of the alignment of planets. There were also theories based on the idea that a cloud of bad air was traveling in the atmosphere. This theory may not have had merit as to where the plague came from but it was later determined that many contracted a form of the disease that lodged in the lungs and just breathing on another person transferred the disease. Some thought it was a reprehensible plan by the Jews who were accused of poisoning the water. They were later to be rounded up and burned at the stake by the thousands in Germany. Others still, thought it to be a virus-like menace carried by cats, the known companions of those who practiced witchcraft. Eventually decrees were issued throughout all of England to kill every cat. As the cat population decreased the rat population increased. Rats were already common in the land—a common pest that most simply learned to live with—and no one considered that the rat could be the host of the very thing that was spreading the disease. This nuisance had become the most familiar annoyance known to man; the most bothersome creature and its tiny little bite injected an even smaller and extremely vicious killer into the bloodstream. It was destined to create a horrific path of terror and to be the smallest, yet greatest, killer ever in the entire world: the flea.

Bristol was William’s home. It was a lively seaport town on the East shore of England. In 1348 it was the second largest city in England and the main English port for trade throughout Europe and the known world. It received sailors, fisherman and travelers of all kinds who were eager to trade their goods and services. The city housed a population of approximately 10,000 full time residents and hundreds of travelers. It was a city filled with eager citizens engaged in sea trade and all types of commerce. Her arms were opened wide to accept any and all who entered her ports, an invitation that proved to be deadly.

Thursday, June 20th 1348 was a typical day not unlike any other when William finished some early morning business he had with a local merchant. Sir William Beorn, at 38—a land-owner and successful businessman—earned his living producing crops, fruit orchards, cattle and sheep. His primary trade and fortune, however, came as a result of his ship-building business which made him one of the wealthiest men in Bristol. He owned a port on the River Frome in the Bristol shipyard that made it possible to build extraordinarily large ships that could be sailed into Bristol’s main harbor. He was a handsome man taller than average with a strong muscular build standing just over six feet tall and 190 pounds. He had thick wavy raven black hair and piercing dark blue-almost black eyes. His only physical flaw was a slightly crooked nose from an accident several years earlier. He had a small half-moon shaped birthmark just behind his left ear that was hidden by the shoulder length of his hair.

William was a good man; well respected and hard-working but not without his share of challenges. His honesty, integrity and reputation for fairness made him a pillar of the community.

Thank you Master Beorn. My family and I appreciate your business, said Timothy as he handed William a large bag filled with assorted items including flour, cotton and linen fabric.

Timothy Canter was an averaged sized man in his early forties, with thin reddish gray hair and a thick mustache that covered his top lip. He owned a local store and had been a friend of William’s for many years.

Timothy, it is always a pleasure to meet with you. And how is your family these days? William asked as he looked deeply into Timothy’s eyes.

They are well, my friend, despite the many around us who are not.

Although William knew that the sickness was spreading, he did not know anyone personally who had acquired the disease. You know of someone who has the sickness? William asked.

Oh yes, I have known of many who have... he paused, "or I should say had the sickness."

You mean you have known someone here in Bristol who has died of this? William asked concerned at the closeness of the account.

Timothy shook his head as he said; William, you spend too much time on the hill with your family.

William smiled and mildly laughed in disagreement. Timothy, on the hill I spend the exact amount of time that is necessary to tend to my estate and the needs of my family, no more, no less. William did not get the reaction he had expected from Timothy.

Timothy, as if not listening to William, continued, I’ve heard of the deaths of many.

Here in Bristol? William asked for a second time with a look of distrust on his face.

Timothy shrugged; No, thank the Lord, not here. However, I’ve heard tales from men of some of the Genoese merchant ships that parts of Spain, Italy and even France have been hit hard by this pestilence. Although those infected die in just days, the process is slow and painful. Black spots appear on different parts of their bodies. Some are calling it the Black Death.

As William listened he felt the sting of a crisp salty breeze from the East. His eyes caught the ship that had just anchored at the docks not far from where he and Timothy were standing.

Timothy seemed surprised that William had not heard of the recent events, Surely, you have heard this.

William was now looking at the ship and did not respond to Timothy.

William, are you hearing me?

Oh, please excuse me, Timothy. My mind was elsewhere. I did not mean to be impolite.

It is fine, my friend.

How many have died? William thoughtfully asked.

According to what I’ve heard the death toll may be in the thousands. No one seems to know what it is or how to stop it.

William shook his head with a look of frustration and concern. He thought about the ramifications of the deaths of thousands in countries not far from Bristol. He personally knew and had friends all over Europe, many of whom purchased ships from his company in Bristol. It didn’t seem true or even likely that there could be any sickness of this magnitude. William thought about the cause of such a disease, something so potent and deadly to kill so quickly and spread so stealthily. He had never known of any sickness so contagious.

Timothy spoke breaking William’s thoughts: I’ve never heard of anything like this before, William. It makes us all a bit leery of what the future will bring.

The fog seemed to lift like a heavy cluster of dark bilious rain clouds ready to burst. It was an abnormal sight lifting just above the tallest mast of the ship while struggling with the weight to pierce a higher altitude. The two men were looking toward the ship and watched as men began to disembark the vessel. The ship was a 600 ton Carrack, the largest of the ships that William built. It had two masts, a single square sailed main mast and a large lateen or triangular shaped small mast. It had a large double door on the side of the ship for easy access to the main cargo bay. The large doors were opened and a ramp from the dock had been placed next to the entrance, making it easy to load and unload cargo. The crew formed a line from the doors of the ship that was tied to the dock. Nine men filed down the ramp and onto the dock ending with the last man standing next to a row of other men who were holding large wheeled carts.

The man at the top of the ramp turned toward the ship as a large bag of flour was tossed into his outstretched arms. He yelled to the man inside the cargo hold, Toss it to me! C’mon, let’s get this thing done!

After catching the flour he turned to the man next to and just below him and tossed the flour to that man. Unintelligible conversation and shouting continued with each of the men as they caught and then tossed the cargo from one to another. This assembly took place from man to man until the bag of flour reached the man at the bottom of the line who tossed the bag onto one of the many crates stacked in the loading dock of the port.

Two large cargo trailers were hitched to horses that waited next to the dock. As the cargo was unloaded from the ship, a dock worker counted and checked off items as they were stacked on the dock. Another worker assigned some of the items to the cargo trailers and checked them off his list as they were taken then loaded by other men from the trailers. The entire process was orchestrated and moved almost seamlessly.

William was intrigued at the procedure as the cargo moved swiftly down the line. When the ship was unloaded, some of the ship’s crew took a short shore leave. Many headed off into the city and on to their favorite tavern. Another dock crew stood by to load the new cargo and two men relieved the men who had been keeping records of the new shipment. The new record keepers waited for those whom they had relieved to be off in the distance and they then placed the cargo and ship manifests down while they chided and fraternized with the other workers and left over ship’s crew. William noticed that the new crew of men who loaded the ship were not as organized as those who had unloaded the ship. In fact, they were disorganized and careless. One of the men in the port started to move a wheeled crate of beets and then realized that it could hold a few more bags. He tossed four more bags onto the crate and began to wheel it up the ramp and into the cargo hold. William watched as the laborer struggled to move the crate up the ramp. Two of the other men stood at the top of the ramp and laughed at him as he slowly pushed and heaved, swerving from side to side and at one moment almost pushing the crate off of the ramp and into the bay. The man stopped in frustration and just barely saved the crate and its contents from a watery grave. The laughter of the other two men climaxed at what looked to be the very moment of his loss of control. He stood next to the crate in frustration and the other two men still in joviality joined him and the three of them pushed the crate the remainder of the distance rolling it up the ramp and then carelessly dumping it into the cargo hold of the ship.

William shook his head in disgust at the careless manner in which these paid dock workers performed their labors. Although he too liked to find joy in his labors, he always took work seriously, especially when it came to the property and livelihood of others. He thought to himself that these careless men could load just about anything onto the ship with complete disregard for the ship’s owner or pride in their work.

The ship was being loaded with beets, beans and various fabrics including wool and a relatively new fabric from France called denim. Items had arrived from different ports on ships waiting to be transferred to new ships for other trade destinations.

Timothy broke the silence. That is the Hodge’s ship, fresh from London after a two week trip all the way to Sicily. I believe that it was one of the ships you built, my friend.

William, with a half-smile on his face nodded in agreement as Timothy continued,

It normally arrives every Tuesday about this time, but this is the first time I have seen it on a Friday. Some of those vegetables have been waiting on the dock since Tuesday. I was beginning to worry if we were going to have enough grain to last us the week. You have purchased my last bag.

William looked back at Timothy. Are you to say that this ship is three days late arriving? William asked with a somber look on his face.

He squinted and raised his left eyebrow as if to catch Timothy in an exaggeration.

Timothy looked at William, slightly cocked his head and answered,

Yes, and I am very happy that it has finally made it. I know that Mr. Tanner has been waiting all week for a shipment of leather from Naples.

Has he heard anything to explain the belatedness of the ship? William asked.

William, this is becoming more and more common. It seems that all of the ships are arriving at odd times, and they are short manned with sometimes only half a crew.

William was feeling anxious and concerned with the information he was receiving from Timothy. It had become obvious that the plague was more serious than Bristol or even England had known. If in fact this sickness was spreading so quickly and attacking so stealthily, not only were the crews of the ships in danger, but everyone including William and his family and house were in danger.

William’s tone had now become very somber and serious. Have you asked any of the ship captains what is causing their delay?

No, I have not. But I suppose it may be linked to the sickness; no one is immune to it, you know. Timothy said as he watched the dock workers.

As William listened to Timothy’s words, the extreme thought occurred to him that the sickness was being transported by sea from town to town.

Timothy, did you hear about the Italian ship several weeks earlier that ran ashore a few hundred yards from the port? All aboard were found dead, including the Captain who had been found huddled in the corner on the floor of his chamber.

Yes, I did! replied Timothy; "And his right hand still clutched to a quill and his left to the ship’s log. The last words he had penned were ‘the devil himself has cursed us at sea…’ The sentence ended with a wavy line of ink that ran off the page, as if he lost strength to finish the thought."

Both men looked back at the ship in the dock and remained silent for a moment.

I tell you, William. Things are not looking good, not looking good at all.

William felt the same as Timothy but also felt helpless to do anything to curb or stop the trend of sickness. He turned back toward Timothy and outstretched his hand. Timothy’s hand joined William’s and the two men shook hands.

Thank you again, my friend. Please do what you can to protect yourself from this sickness. William pleaded. If it travels from person to person you are at a high risk due to the many people you are in contact with every day.

Timothy knew that William was seriously concerned about his welfare.

Never you mind about me, William. I will be fine. You take care of your family and house and I will see you next week when you return for more supplies.

Timothy went back into his store leaving William standing on the street. As he entered the store he called out to Scott, his nephew, who also worked in the store. Scottie, my boy, have you finished that inventory yet?

William could scarcely hear Scottie’s reply accompanied by Timothy’s hardy laugh. The conversation faded as William turned his attention to other things outside.

~*~*~

Chapter One Notes

The plague crossed Europe so quickly that most people had no idea what was happening or how rapidly it was causing death. Unlike today, communication between large cities took days by ship or horseback. This meant that a disease of such magnitude could spread at an enormous rate without people recognizing the degree of devastation it was causing. The first signs of the plague in England appeared in Bristol—obviously brought there by the ships from other parts of Europe, Africa and Asia. Although the governments, the Church and the general population had no idea what was happening, not everybody was in the dark. Some began to put the pieces together, even though not all agreed on the final layout of the puzzle. It was not uncommon for a ship to be late due to weather conditions or even poor shipping coordination from one port to another. This meant that from time-to-time if a ship was late by hours or even days it did not necessarily cause panic from the merchants waiting to receive or ship goods. Panic began when ships started arriving with sick crew, or worse, dead crew members. As the plague progressed some ships were lost at sea as crew members all died and the ship was allowed to drift according to the wind and currents. Some ships sank in bad weather as the crew died prior to taking evasive maneuvers. Other ships with a dead crew would occasionally run ashore in locations far from a shipping port or boat dock.

Over the centuries scientists have tried to determine the cause of the Black Plague. Although most medical professionals agree that the plague came in two basic types: type A, through the blood stream causing visible black decay from skin rotting from the inside out and visible pustules usually in the groin, under arms, neck and face or type B, the bronchial type that lodged in the lungs and caused massive internal bleeding from ruptured blood vessels. This type was the most contagious because an infected person could pass on the disease simply by breathing on another person. The other point of scientific contention was the mode of transportation that brought the plague from one place to another. As I have studied the historical information about the plague I am convinced that the actual culprit was, in fact, the flea and that the plague itself mutated from type A to type B.

Chapter Two

Forgive Us Our Trespasses

It is said that the plague takes three forms. In the first people suffer an infection of the lungs, which leads to breathing difficulties. Whoever has this corruption or contamination to any extent cannot escape but will die within two days. Another form...in which boils erupt under the armpits,...a third form in which people of both sexes are attacked in the groin.

Louis Heyligen, a musician in Avignon, France

who died of the plague in 1348

William closed his eyes, breathed in the salty ocean aroma, and felt the warmth of the morning sun on his face. It momentarily took his mind off of his recent conversation with Timothy. He loved the sea and moments like this when he could bask in the warmth of the sun while filling his lungs with the ocean air. As he exhaled he slowly opened his eyes. The brightness of the sun caused him to squint while his pupils struggled to dilate accordingly. He placed his fingers on his eyes and rubbed then gently. He opened his eyes again and was startled at the large figure of a man standing in front of him blocking the sun and his view.

Sir William, I hope you have been looking toward the Heavens in an effort to make communication with God for his wrath is fierce, and his judgments are upon us. Perhaps the only thing that can save us is the prayer of a just man.

Father Murphy, it is good to see you. William responded, still rubbing his eyes.

Likewise, my son he added.

Father Murphy was a large man with a bald head and thick, curly, grey mutton chops running from his temples down past his jawbone. He wore a long black robe with long sleeves and a cuff that dragged on the ground as he walked. The robe had a white sash tied snugly around his round belly.

As he spoke, he held the bottom of the large, shiny gold crucifix that hung from a long chain around his neck. He stood erect, head back and his chin in the air, with his large belly protruding in front of him causing it to brush against William in an uncomfortable manner.

Actually I was just breathing in the crisp ocean air, but your question is somewhat perplexing to me, said William.

Perplexing? Questioned Father Murphy.

Yes, what exactly do you mean, his wrath is fierce, and his judgments are upon us?

Is it not obvious, my son? Look at all of the death around us. Many a good man and his family have been stricken with this terrible curse from God.

You believe that this sickness has come from God? William questioned surprisingly.

Father Murphy sternly replied;

What other answer could there be? It is his wrath because of the wickedness of his people. He has brought this scourge upon us because we have turned our back on him. He continued to speak as if preaching a sermon, waving his hands in the air up and down and side to side.

We live lives of comfort where God gives us those things we need to sustain ourselves. It is because of all of these blessings that we have become complacent and have forgotten the God who gave them.

He finished his personal sermon to William, with a loud, deep, low voice. He spoke until the last breath of air passed through his vocal cords. This strained speech nearly inhibited his ability to finish a sentence with much semblance of coherence. He continued his dramatic presentation as if speaking to a large congregation in a massive hall;

And now, in his anger he has seen fit to send forth a scourge so fierce that it will wipe out all of those who are unclean and impure.

He took a deep breath and continued again;

It will destroy the unbeliever and cleanse this land that is ripe with wickedness.

He took one step back and repeatedly breathed in and out quickly as if he had just finished running a race. With his chin still in the air he looked from side to side as if he hoped to catch the glance of any others who may have heard his impressive discourse, he then looked at William. He began to caress the cross around his neck waiting for William’s reply. There was a short moment of awkwardness. William looked at him as if to say; "Are you finished? Seeing that the Priest was now ready for William’s response William gathered his thoughts and then did his best to recap the overall point the priest was making;

Your words make a harsh condemnation upon many good people, as you have already spoken that this sickness has taken the lives of many a good man and his family.

The Priest looked at William surprised that he did not bow in complete agreement. He was frustrated that William would question the words in his carefully crafted communication. With a stern look on his face, and while pointing his finger in the air in a circling motion toward the Heavens, he responded.

Master Beorn, do not mix up my words in an attempt to use them against me, for as God is my witness this plague shall not pass until all evil is cleansed from the earth until we all repent and beg God his grace and forgiveness. He again ended with heavy breathing.

Father, you misinterpret my question. Surely I was not trying to snare you; I just don’t believe that God is to blame for all sickness or plague on earth any more than we should make him responsible for all evil on the earth.

Father Murphy’s eyes grew large and with a look of contempt he listened as William completed his thoughts.

Is it not plausible that whatever this sickness is that it has happened due to some natural cause and that we are unwittingly doing something to spread it from person to person, house to house, and town to town?

The priest closed his mouth and breathed deeply through his nostrils. A moment of uncomfortable silence passed as he gathered his thoughts. He began to tug at his tunic with his left hand while scratching his neck with his right hand.

Vile creatures, surely these fleas would not be here if Adam and Eve had not partaken of the forbidden fruit. Of Course, Eve is to blame for that!

He continued to rant as if he had forgotten the conversation in which he and William had been engaged.

Should have listened to her husband in the first place. Surely fleas came as a result of the fall. Every year they seem to get more and more irritating.

As William listened politely, he suddenly experienced an odd moment. There was something that everyone had in common everyone he knew, everywhere he traveled; Fleas! He thought.

William, back to the subject at hand, I am persuaded by the spirit of the almighty that my words are true. So much so, that on the first Sabbath in July I will be joining Father Murdock, Father Andrews, many other priests and followers of Christ in a prayer vigil and march from the coasts of Bristol to the shores and city of the heart of our mother land.

A march? William questioned. All the way to London that is easily a four day journey by foot? What is the purpose of this march?"

The priest looked at William with a condescending smile on his face, and he slowly chose what he thought would be the most appropriate words to convince a troubled and confused believer.

My son, is it not obvious that God requires a personal sacrifice from each of those who are true believers?

He did not wait for William’s response but continued to speak slowly and deliberately in an up and down motion shaking his head from side to side as if talking to a small child.

The Holy Father himself has decreed that if we wish this plague to pass from us, we must be willing to make a personal sacrifice, a pilgrimage if you will a reenactment of the journey of our Christ as he tread that final path toward salvation.

William tried to listen politely, but was amazed at the ignorant conclusion this priest, many others had come to.

Are you telling me that the Holy Father has sanctioned this march? William asked in disbelief.

I did not exactly say that. But he has given us dominion over our own Parishes and Diocese. I am confident that if he did not have his attention focused on bigger things and instead had to waste his time on the day-to-day activities of my parish of which he has already given me charge that he would surely and without haste sanction and even encourage such a march!

The priest took another cleansing breath, filled his lungs and attempted to complete the remainder of his discourse in one breath.

This march is our solemn testimony to God that we desire to help him purge the world of sin and wickedness. There will be many priests leading hundreds from every city in the land leaving a trail garlanded with the blood, sweat and tears of the repentant. It would do your soul right, my son, to take up his cross and join our procession.

He wheezed and panted to force more air into his lungs. He began tugging at his tunic with his left hand and scratching his body.

Filthy fleas he murmured!

But Father Murphy, has it not occurred to you that your journey may, in fact, take this plague deeper and further into our land? I have witnessed that there seems to be a correlation between those who are dying and those who are infected. This curse from God, as you call it, travels from person to person. It is obviously contagious from those who are carriers, and it would do more convenient to separate ourselves till it passes then to unite ourselves with the possibility of including one or more who are carriers and infecting hundreds or even thousands. Have you not considered this possibility?

Father Murphy opened his mouth, closed it, threw back his head, raised his eyebrows, and responded;

William, you speak as if you have been taught in the arena of medicine. If I am not mistaken, you are a ship builder, not a doctor.

William smiled at the priest and said; Father, doctors ride aboard ships and can understand the purpose for sails even if they never studied ship building. I don’t purpose to be a doctor but, it would make sense to me to keep those infected away from other persons.

The priest cocked his head to the right and stared wide-eyed with a blank look at William as if he did not hear anything William had just said. He then straightened his head and continued from his last sentence and spoke with righteous indignation.

I am a priest of God! If God requires me to lead his people out of the bondage of sin, I shall go and do his will, without question, without doubt and surely without ignorant supposition! We shall march with power and authority from God. And if some of us shall fall in the path let it happen according to his almighty will!

He ended his preaching knowing that William was not a follower and had not been convinced by their discussion. In exhaustion, he continued;

Good day my son, and may God’s protection, and blessings be with you. And should you have a change of heart you will know where to find me.

The priest stretched out his right arm extending it toward William until the shiny gold ring on his finger was within inches of William’s lips. William politely bowed his head but took a step back without placing the customary kiss on the priest’s ring. Father Murphy looked at William, raised his left eyebrow and gently shook his head. He held out his crucifix and made the customary sign of the cross; Father, Son, Holy Ghost. He smiled and walked away. As he walked, he continued to scratch at a flea in his tunic.

Foul creatures’ from hell! The priest screamed as he continued to yank and slap at the lapels of his robe and scratch his left leg below the knee.

As William watched the priest walk away, he found that both of his hands were in his trouser pockets tightly clutching two large cloves of garlic. He always kept garlic in his clothing because it acted as a repellent to fleas. In fact, he insisted that his family and servants also keep garlic in their clothing. William was taken back at the thought of such a repugnant and ignorant response to what appeared to be no more than an unforeseen disease. He was offended at the thought that God would be the author of such a calamity that knew no bounds and overtook the evil and innocent alike without mercy. He tried to hide his feelings, not to offend the priest. He struggled to find an adequate response to what he had just heard come from the lips of the man he had honored and trusted for so many years; the strong, intelligent and spiritual leader whom he loved. It was at that moment that William realized that even the Pope himself did not know what had caused this plague.

William began to doubt his religious beliefs as he contemplated that the leader of God’s church had no understanding or power to end this evil destruction. How could this man be the Holy Father on earth and at the same time provides no relief, no answers, and no hope? He then remembered that the Pope was just a man and not a God; therefore he was entitled to human error as was everyone else. As he contemplated what had just happened, he was shaken back to reality by the loud voices of the men in the assembly line on the dock. He looked back to the ship and noticed a young boy around the age of fourteen emerge from the doorway of the ship. The lad pushed his way down the plank moving swiftly between each man and bags of cargo Although he seemed an irritant to the men they accommodated his departure from the ship while some yelled obscenities and vein threats at him as he passed. Under his arm, he carried a bundle of papers. He ran down the docks and up the street in William’s direction. There was a small crowd of merchants and upper class educated people standing a few yards down from William in the direct path of the boy.

When he reached the crowd, he lifted one of the papers and began to wave it in the air. William could not make out the words the boy spoke but he saw that the people in the crowd were interested in whatever the boy was saying. People began to reach into their purses, and offer the boy coins in exchange for the document. After he had satisfied the small crowd, he moved toward the next group of people who began to assemble according to the excitement aroused by the boy’s words. The boy continued exchanging his papers for coins as he had done with the previous group of eager patrons.

William found himself drawn toward the boy as he walked in his direction. As he moved closer, he could make out the words of the boy as he spoke to an eager man.

Here you are sir. For one small coin, you can read about the pestilence of great mortality!

He spoke with thrilling excitement and no hint of fear or concern. The boy had taken an official document that had been written by the royal palace in England and copied the document word for word onto many papers. His exhilaration continued to build.

It’s all over London! Some say it’s even in foreign lands! This may be the biggest report of the century! Hundreds, even thousands, are dead or dying! William cut him off in mid-sentence;

I hear you lad. May I? He reached for the document with one hand and handed the boy a coin with the other. Thank you my boy.

Likewise, Sir. The young man turned away from William and began to walk toward another small group of people. He took a few steps and then stumbled and fell to his left knee. William quickly reached for the boy.

"Are you alright lad? He asked.

Thank you sir, but I am fine. He added as he stood to his feet while dusting off his trousers.

Just a bit dizzy-headed…perhaps from the voyage…I’ll be fine, thank you!

He smiled at William and hurriedly walked toward the small group of people, waving the documents in the air and shouting;

Official documents from the King. Plague kills thousands no one is safe.

His voice faded out as he walked further from William. It seemed odd to William that the boy was so eager to capitalize on such a tragedy. But such was the way of commerce. A successful businessman always found a way to sell his goods or services to those who sought for and would pay the price.

William leaned against a light post and watched the young boy as he moved from one sales prospect to another. His clothes were tattered and his shoes nearly worn through. Yet he worked with confidence and an air of arrogance that had to be admired especially in such dire conditions as had overtaken a sizeable number of the country land. As he watched his mind was taken back to the first time he met another eager street child, a young boy who was twelve at the time.

~*~*~

Chapter Two Notes

The Catholic Church was the greatest force and the only entity that unified all of Europe. At a time when England was still fighting over land, Royal rights and claims with its neighbors, the one common bond throughout most of Europe was simply The Church. Its power transcended the governments of Europe. The Pope was the supreme answer, the final answer to all things beyond government law or tradition. When the plague was eventually recognized, as a terrifying disease that brought death beyond explanation or understanding, physicians, scientists, astrologers, and government officials, all eventually turned to the Church, (The Pope) for the answer. Unfortunately, The Pope was also at a loss to its origins or how to end it. When the plague picked up momentum people were dying so quickly that they were not given the opportunity to receive the customary last rites and the Pope felt compelled to grant remission of sins to all who died of the Black Death. Victims were allowed to confess their sins to one another or even to a woman.Although no one savored the thought of dying at the mercy of such a horrible and painful killer, the idea of being absolved of sin thus paving the way for entrance into Heaven most likely gave some, hope, and comfort as the survivors of loved ones who were not as fortunate, at least for the moment.

Chapter Three

Children of the Street

"When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child,

I thought as a child: but when I became a man,

I put away childish things."

(The Apostle Paul) 1 Corinthians 13:11

It was eight years earlier in September of 1340, and only a few feet from where William was currently standing. So much had happened in the last eight years, some of the most extraordinary events of William’s life. He breathed in the sea air, closed his eyes and reminisced. The boy’s name was Michael. He had caused quite a stir in the town. William knew about the boy and his entrepreneurial skills that were not always above the table. Michael was one of many young orphaned children, usually stealing and sleeping wherever shelter was available. Prostitution had made its way from the larger cities to the smaller ones. Young women who did not find a husband were swayed into a lifestyle that promised a false sense of security by giving them income to take care of themselves and any illegitimate children they bore. For most, it was only a matter of time before they succumbed to syphilis or some other type of venereal disease, leaving their children to wander the streets clinging onto anything or anyone for survival. For young girls, survival became a deplorable and endless cycle of a lifestyle passed from mother to daughter.

For the young orphan boy, however, prostitution was seldom his future. Instead, his survival was predicated on his ability to think, to plan, to connive and forge his way through his world by taking advantage of the unsuspecting or gullible. Michael had become a master of the latter.

Michael was drawing a small crowd to his makeshift gambling table loosely covered with several pieces of paper and three shells. Michael was twelve at the time; he didn’t know his actual age or even his birthday since like most of the other orphans he was the result of prostitution and was orphaned at five when his mother died of syphilis.

At twelve, he was making his living by conning unsuspecting gamblers in a shell game. He moved each day to different parts of the town, always on the lookout for new faces just passing thru town. The best targets were the sailors who were headed for the taverns. They still had money in their pockets, and they were an abundant find if they could be caught before they entered the taverns. Michael worked with two lookouts, Dennis who was eight years old and Anthony who was seven. They would run in different directions and alert Michael if the local Sheriff or his men were heading in their direction. His most vital partner was Jared a man in his mid-thirties who posed as a businessman. He was the roper, the person who enticed others to put their money down and join in on the game. Michael’s game was quite simple and one of the oldest con games in the book. The hand is quicker than the eye. He placed a small pebble under one of the shells and quickly scrambled the shells from one spot to another.

Keep your eye on the shell with the pebble and the money is yours. He said as he continued to mix up the shells.

The gambler watched intently and confidently picked the wrong shell every time. There were never any winners in the shell game except for the roper. Of course, he was part of the scam, Michael’s partner in crime. Every now and then the roper would win to help foster the illusion that a keen onlooker could win. Michael was quick with his hands, and he had mastered his game so well, that no one noticed during the shuffle, he would slide the pebble under one of the pieces of paper. When the player would choose the wrong shell Michael would slide another shell over the edge of the paper and in so doing would slide the pebble into the shell just prior to uncovering it for the loser to see.

It was about 1:00 PM September 15th, 1340. Aldermen Flanagan of the Bristol town council had just emerged a little tipsy from one of the local drinking establishments. He was a short older man in his sixties with a large gut and a full grey beard. He and a drinking associate

Reviews for Not Without Mercy The Black Death

[BonnieWhite · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Black plague. Historical account of a wealthy family and what happens to them.