CHAPTER 22 - "THE WOMAN WITH A SPECIAL GIFT"

Note to reader: the following excerpt newspaper article actually ran in the London Gazette between the times mentioned. However, for this story, I cleaned it up a little for grammar, because it was badly written - so it can be easily read here. However, the article reads for itself and credit is given to its author.

THE LONDON GAZETTE - Published by Authority

From Monday, September 3, to Monday, September 10, 1666

Whitehall, Sept. 8

The ordinary course of this paper having been interrupted by a sad and lamentable accident of fire, lately happened in the City of London: it hath been thought fit for satisfying the minds of so many of His Majesty's good subjects who must need be concerned for the issue of so great an accident, to give this short, but true account of it.

On the second instant, at one o'clock in the morning (approximately), there happened to break out, a sad and deplorable fire in Pudding Lane, near New Fish Street, which falling out at that hour of the night, and in a quarter of town so close-built with wooden pitched houses, spread itself so far before day, and with such distraction to the inhabitants and neighbors, that care was not taken for the timely preventing and further diffusion of it, but pulling down houses, as ought to have been; so that this lamentable fire, in a short time, because too big to be mastered by any engines or working near it.

It fell out most unhappily too, that a violent easterly wind fomented it, and kept it burning all that day, and the night following spreading itself up to Grace Church Street and downwards from Cannon Street to the Water Side, as far as the "Three Cranes in the Vinery".

The people in all parts about it, distracted by the vastness of it, and their particular care to carry away their goods, many attempts were made to prevent the spreading of it by pulled down houses and making great intervals, but all in vain; the fire seizing upon the timber and rubbish, and so continuing it set even through those spaces, and raging in a bright flame all Monday and Tuesday. Notwithstanding, His Majesty's own and His Royal Highness's (Charles II) indefatigable and personal pains to apply all possible remedies to prevent it, calling upon and helping people with their Guards; and a great number of nobility and gentry tirelessly assisting therein, for which they were requited with a thousand blessings from the poor, distressed people.

By the favor of God, the wind slackened a little on Tuesday night and the flames, meeting with brick buildings at the Temple, by little and little, it was observed to lose its force on that side, so that on Wednesday morning, we began to hope well, and his Royal Highness, never despairing or slacking his personal care, wrought so well that day, assisted in some parts by the Lords of the Council, before and behind it, that a stop was put to it at the Temple Church, near Holbrook Bridge, Pie Corner, Alders Gate, Cripple Gate, near the lower end of Coleman Street, at the end of Basin Hall Street, by the Postern at the upper end of Bishops Gate Street and Leaden Hall Street, at the Standard in Corn Hill at the church in Fenchurch Street, near Cloth Workers Hall in Mining Lane, at the middle of Mark Land and at the Tower dock.

On Thursday, by the blessing of God, it was wholly beat down and extinguished. But so as that evening, it unhappily burst out again afresh at the Temple, by the falling of some sparks (as it supposed) upon a pile of wooden buildings; but his Royal Highness (Charles II), who watched there that whole night in person, by the great labors and diligence used, and especially by the by applying (gun)powder to blow up the houses about it, before day most happily mastered it.

Strangers, Dutch and French were apprehended during the night upon suspicious that they contributed, mischievously to it, who are all imprisoned and information prepared to make a severe inquisition here upon by my Lord Chief Justice Keeling, assisted by some of the Lords of the Privy Council, and some principal members of the city, notwithstanding with suspicion, the manner of the burning all along in a train, and so blown forward in all its chance, or to speak better, the heavy hand of God upon us, for our sins, showing us the terror of His Judgment in thus rising the fire, and immediately after His miraculous and never enough to be acknowledged Mercy in putting a stop to it -

"Kassy, where are you dear?"

The voice of her father startled her. She had been so engrossed in the newspaper article that everything beyond seemed moot. But she was also feeling something else deep within her mind that she couldn't quite explain. The only way she could simply describe it was she was being "watched" by another pair of eyes. But not physically, but beyond elsewhere…

Kassandra Smythe turned her eyes when she heard her father call her. She had been in the middle of cleaning one of the second floor rooms of the Boarding House, she, her father, and others were staying at, in as London, when she began to read the newspaper on a table. She had been home schooled, and her father was very smart, so she was very grateful that unlike other women of her age, twenty-three, she knew how to read. Reading was normally a "privilege" reserved for the nobility and the wealthy, not for simple peasants.

The article she had been reading, that she only got half through, was an account of events that took place during the last ten days in London, that many may not have been privy to due to their own affairs during the chaos of the fire in the city and events that happened afterwards.

Only by the grace of God had this Boarding House not been touched by the fire, but it had still gotten dirty and smoke infested. She was a maid in the Boarding House as well as living in it. It was the perfect arrangement. She worked for house and board and meals, providing her services in house-cleaning. Otherwise, she and her father would be living on the streets, and in his great need for help, the Landlord, was grateful that she and her father had not fled London like so many other citizens had in a panic.

But the article was distressing to say the least and there was a great deal more to be done to help all the displaced families who lost their homes due to the fire. It was said that it started in a bakery on Pudding Lane. If she recalled, that area was not a very good area, but it was known for one thing: Mr. Thomas Farriner's Bakery. Unfortunately, the article also said that that was the bakery that started the fire. Other information from other sources told was that Mr. Thomas Farriner was estranged from his family - and everyone thought he didn't have a family as he was often alone and he never spoke of them - but they had been visiting with him at the time and managed to escape from a top floor window and to a neighbors home. Thomas Farriner did not, however. He was down in the bakery when the fire began.

One person claimed he saw people in the area near the bakery - four in total - fighting, and said one of them breathed fire and another had long, slender nails that coursed through the air like sword blades, and both were attacking another man. It appeared that three men were attacking one in the street - who also appeared to be dressed undignified - perhaps the man who started the fire? And these men were trying to capture this man - a Dutchman, a Frenchman, or a disgruntled English peasant who had bad feelings towards the government and wanted to cause chaos? But where they went afterwards, no one knew.

Whether this was true, the only sheer truth was Mr. Thomas Farriner was dead, his body burned in the fire. Unfortunately, a maid servant also died in the fire.

Reports had the fire reaching all the way to and destroying Saint Paul's Cathedral where many people were held up for safety, thought to be safe due to its sturdy structure. But if the fire destroyed the church and she feared the worse for those people. And yet, very few people were reported killed in the fire. Most of the deaths happened afterwards when the looting and violence started. Fortunately, Kassandra and her father were in a building that also housed a policeman, who kept a watchful eye on the area.

"Kassy! Where are you, child?!" her father called her again.

She put down the newspaper on a table and went out into the hallway to the wooden staircase. Here she saw her father looking up to her from the bottom of the staircase in the main floor lobby. "I am here, father. Can I help with anything?" she said.

Her father was a sweet looking, older gentleman with grayish, white hair, and in his sixties. Kassandra's mother had died of polio several years earlier and her brother and his wife lived out of the city somewhere in the countryside. And soon after they married, for love, it was learned she was very rich, but she never told him, as she was estranged from her father who lived in France. After he died, they inherited his wealth.

"Oh, you are cleaning upstairs? I was unaware. Very good."

"All the rooms are finished, father. Would you like me to help you downstairs?"

"Come down here and talk, it is not polite to shout from the upper floor." She did so, and then he said, "Kassy, I received a letter from your brother. He has requested we come stay with him for awhile and leave the city until it is safe, and I agree with it."

"But father, the house, the cleaning…"

"Your brother is very rich, Kassy. The only reason I did not accept his offer of money given our way before is out of pride. But now I fear for your safety, and this city is rotten."

"London is our home, father."

"We will only be staying with your brother until things settle down in the city. Will you agree?"

She gave a glance around the Boarding House, at the place she had called home for many years, ever since she was seventeen. Many of the boarders had fled when the city caught fire, there was only her, her father, the landlord and the policeman left, and the policeman had said in confidence to her that he was thinking of moving elsewhere soon, so there would be no-one left when he departed. And if that happened, would she even have a job? Would the landlord close up the boarding house? Sell it? Kick them out into the street?

It took her a moment to think, but not long to decide. She gave her father a sweet, tilted smile. "Indeed, father. I feel a change in the wind."

"A change in the wind? Are you getting another one of your feelings, Kassy? You spook me sometimes."

"Only a woman's feeling, father." She smiled sweetly. "I feel that a new chapter in our lives is set to begin. That no matter how tragic things may look in London, God had chosen us to continue living our lives, even if it not here." She then looked inward, putting a finger to her lips in thought. "And I see someone - a handsome, young stranger. He is perched high somewhere overlooking a vastness of anarchy. But he will change our lives forever."

"Like I said, Kassy dear, you spook me sometimes," her father said. "I will send a messenger boy with our reply to your brother, and within the next week or so, we should be out of danger."

"Danger is only perception, father. I feel no danger from the world towards us."

"I will write a letter and then call a messenger boy, notwithstanding."

Kassandra received a reply letter from her brother a week later, but due to the city streets, they were told they would have to make their way to its outskirts, so a horse and carriage could bring them the rest of the way to his home in the countryside. There was just too much debris and fire damage to have a transport collect them. This was understandable, and so they gathered their meager belongings, said their good-bye to the landlord, who begged them to stay, and began their long trek through the city proper.

The newspaper article in the London Gazette did not do the damage justice. The city was in utter ruin. And it was unfortunate that history will blame the Farriner Bakery for it. Even with clean up crews, it will take London years to recover and rebuild. But she knew that that it would. And she had a strong feeling that she would come back to London in the very near future, and with this handsome, young stranger she saw in a vision. She had even began to dream about him, as if he were calling out to her to find him…

They had reached the outskirts of the city without incident hours later and a horse and carriage was waiting for them where the city border ended and the suburbs began. The driver helped them into the carriage, and told them that it would be an hour trip to William, Kassandra brother's house, in the woods due to winding woods and intersecting roadways. Vandals were out in force staging cues to rob coaches, so a safe route was warranted, and the driver knew of one. And hence, an hour later, they arrived at William's house safely.

William and his wife were waiting outside their lovely home in the suburbs with their manservant when the carriage pulled up to the front entrance. They must have been watching and waiting for the carriage, she decided, and as it approached the house and rode up the winding road, they came out. When the carriage stopped and the door opened, William stepped forward and held out his hand to help her out.

"Welcome, dear sister," he greeted happily. But he was not at all kind to their father. "Father, welcome," he said plainly.

Kassandra and William's wife exchanged sorrowful glances knowing why the estranged greeting.

As Kassandra stepped out, she had hoped time away from each other would chill this abhorrence they had between them. Father had wanted William to marry someone else, but he refused and a shouting match ensued, which then in turn, caused William to leave. Over the years, they spoke in letters, and William told father that he was engaged to a beautiful woman, Ms. Beautieuse Livingston, whom at the time, he did not know of her wealth. It was a test, to see if he loved her and not her money. And he had passed with flying colors, later revealing to him her great fortune.

But the feelings between William and their father remained. It was not to say that their father finally accepted William's decision to marry against his wishes, but from the words that were spoken during their shouting match. Words that were not to be repeated, but had never been forgotten by William, even though their father had apologized. But William had not forgiven their father.

"My dear boy, what a wonderful home," their father said, attempting to sound joyful, hoping to brighten William's mood, knowing full-well the tension between them. More so by William.

"Indeed, father," William said, as he escorted them inside, their manservant following. They had never been inside before, only told of the house, and visually it did not disappoint the eye. It was a two-story, brick, almost-manor-like house with multiple rooms, a sitting room, a dining room, a library and a game room. And to add to its distinction, it was surrounded by forest, far away from the polluted atmosphere of London.

Kassandra could also feel an energy in the air and it was not coming from the air which gave her breath extra oxygen, fresh air normally did that. But this strange energy came from the forest, and for a moment she looked out a window towards the trees beyond, drawn by this unwavering energy. She couldn't explain the feeling, but she knew it had something to do with what her father called her "special gift". A gift that if anyone knew about, she would be probably be arrested and burned at the stake for witchcraft and accused of being in collusion with the Devil that caused the city of London to become aflame.

"Sister, are you all right?" William said, and she turned to see the company staring at her. "Is everything okay with you, Kassandra? You looked very focused a moment ago. Do you see something in the trees?"

"Perhaps some wild animal?" her father answered, giving her a don't-do-that-here look. Only her father knew of her special gift. And he knew when she was getting one her "feelings". "We don't get many in the city - mostly feral dogs and cats, and a lot of rats."

"Well, we don't have many of those here," William said. "Bryan makes sure the grounds are pretty clear." Bryan was their young manservant. He was in his early twenties, and was a mute. He was born unable to speak, but from what William told her in letters, Bryan was very smart, and knowledgeable in a great many things, including cooking, cleaning and housework. "Bryan, would you make us some tea?"

Bryan bowed and left.

William escorted them to the second floor, up the main staircase and to their room, which was one of many on this floor. It was lavish and large, and there was an adjoining room with an equal grandiose room, all lovingly pre-furnitured, but was slightly smaller than the main room. Kassandra figured the smaller room would be hers. She could not believe the richness that her brother had married into, even against father's wishes. But he had married for love, and that is what Kassandra knew mattered most.

She found herself drawn towards the nearest window, looking out towards the same direction she had earlier, but this time she was more subtle about her feeling and said, "What a lovely view, brother."

"Yes," he said, coming to stand at her side, looking out the window with her. "And fortunately, we are looking away from London, so the plumes of smoke from the burning buildings do not askew the view."

"London is recovering," she said, turning back to face him. "It will rebuild."

He gave her a smile. "I know, dear sister. But in hearing reports about people being assaulted in the streets, I thought you would be better off safe here with me and Beautieuse. By the by, you will no longer have to slave all day at that Boarding House for a landlord that pays you a penance of a wage."

"I do not wish to be a freeloader, brother."

William cupped her chin between forefinger and thumb. "Not to worry, sister. Bryan can handle everything. He is an excellent manservant and can handle everything around the house."

"He is an orphan, correct?"

William nodded. "And he comes from London. Beautieuse's father found him wandering the streets one day, cold and hungry, and gave him some food. The boy was so grateful that he wished to repay Beautieuse's father's kindness and be his boy servant, albeit unable to speak since birth. Her father took him on as a temporary bases, but then accepted him full time. And now, Bryan is Beautieuse's manservant, since her father's passing. And he has accepted the job graciously."

Kassandra frowned.

"Why the glum face, Kassandra?" he asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Serving another is not living, brother. It is less than living if a person spends their life repaying a debt."

This time William frowned. "Be mindful of your words, sister. There is no wrong-doing in serving another, even for a one-time debt of kindness. Even so, that debt, as you call it, helped Bryan leave the streets of London, and he had lived a healthy life ever since that day. I dread he may be dead if Beautieuse's father had not had a kind-heart that day, albeit, being a miserable old bastard every other day of the year."

Beautieuse didn't deny this fact when Kassandra gave her a simple glance. "Not to speak ill of the dead," Beautieuse began to say, "my father was a grouchy old man filled with arrogant pride, and I am surprised Bryan stayed with him. Notwithstanding, I believe Bryan didn't have anywhere else to go."

Kassandra nodded.

William then smiled. "Come, sister, father. Enough of this philosophizing, and enjoy some Earl-Grey with us in the Sitting Room. I am sure Bryan is waiting for us. You can investigate your rooms further later."

They did so, and were served by Bryan. Not only tea, but also mini-crab fish cakes that he had personally made in the kitchen in preparation for Kassandra and her father coming. They were delicious, cooked to perfection, and Kassandra had a moment of indulgence of having more than just one.

Bryan looked pleased that she was enjoying the mini-crab cakes, but then left to leave them alone, to talk, and to get reacquainted. From what William had said in his letters, Bryan had many duties to perform, and he enjoyed the work, and never complained. But Kassandra sensed a slight loneliness from him, and she did not attribute it to one of her feelings, she could see it in his ocean blue eyes. Would he experience everything there was in life serving her brother and his wife? Would he ever fall in love?

"I believe it is time to bury the hatchet between us, father," William said, and she quickly turned, focusing in on the conversion, as her brother and father said adjacent one another on wooden, half-moon, padded-seated chairs. Beautieuse said next to her on a long couch, sipping her cup of tea. "I know the anger is more on my end than yours. You say you have accepted my decision, but have you really? Or are you merely glad that eventually it came about Beautieuse was indeed rich and now you and Kassandra are out of poverty?"

"Please William, don't start this argument again; don't be bitter," Kassandra said.

"No Kassy, let him have his say, let it all come out now," her father said. "If you are bitter about my wanting you to marry for money and not love prior, then I am sorry, again," he said to William. "I only wished the best of all possible outcomes for your future to live outside poverty. Which, indeed, you are now. And I am glad that you have found both. I will not deny this fact. I am also proud of you, son, and I always will be. You have worked hard all your life and now you can enjoy God's good graces upon thee."

William nodded, but he appeared to contemplate something first, before saying, "So, you are saying, you accept my refusal of your word, of my dishonor of your parental masterhood, to marry Beautieuse despite not knowing of her wealth at the time? You cursed me forever for this, do you remember, father? And even harsher words came out of your mouth that I will not repeat here or ever."

"I am truly sorry, how many times must I apologize?" their father said solemnly. "Please forgive me."

William grumbled, but Beautieuse then seemed to be the buffer of good tidings. "Peace has been restored; renewal is in the air," she said with a straight tone, looking at William. "To forgive is divine, and a life with bitterness in one's heart will eat at a person like poison in this world and beyond. William?"

William nodded, albeit somewhat reluctant. When someone has felt bitterness towards another for so long it's difficult to just put it aside instantaneously. "It will take time, but I am willing to make go of it," he said.

Kassandra smiled, as both her brother and father stood up and shook hands to wash away the bad feelings between them. But as the talk continued, and good anecdotes were brought up from William's childhood with his father, Kassandra once again looked out the nearest window from her seated position, to the forest. She was having a feeling again of someone out there somewhere, calling to her.

Later that night, when the sun had sunk behind the trees and a full-moon brightened the sky with its brilliance, Kassandra stood in her white night dress and gazed longingly out her bedroom window. The feeling of this calling was very strong and it was coming from the forest, or somewhere beyond the trees. Was it someone else with a "special gift" like hers? But this calling was not one of longing, but of sadness and sorrow, and of pain; of regret, guilt and of a feeling of fatality, as if someone was close to death.

She had began to have dreams of a certain handsome, young stranger in need of help at the Boarding House about a week prior, but she could not see his face nor did he know where he was. Now that she was here, the feeling of this person was stronger, much stronger than before, as if coming here was pre-destined for her to find him. Was he out there somewhere? Now?

Help me, Kassy, suddenly came a voice inside her mind. I am reaching out to you because only you can feel me.

"Who are you?" she said softly. "Only my father calls me Kassy."

Someone who will not hurt you. But time is short, and I am near death. Come seek me out beyond the forest. I know you have been having dreams about me, I have been projecting myself outward, to seek anyone who can hear me. Your special gift does so, and I have seeing things through your eyes. Thus, I am asking you for your help now. I will guide you to me. I am close.

Kassandra nodded, she had to find him. "I will come. Show me the way."

She put on a housecoat and footwear, and then left the house.

But almost immediately she was halted by the sound of a loud clap. She turned sharply to see Bryan. He was working in the flowerbed with a lighted lantern. The moon was bright and lightened the surrounding grounds, so she figured he was taking advantage of it. He looked at her with a concerned, curious look, then gestured with his hands outward, that Kassandra took as saying: Where are you going?

She had no time to explain her, and said, "Come with me, Bryan, and bring an ax. It may be needed."

He scratched his head in confusion, then pointed to the moon, which probably meant, It is night time, and you should be sleeping. As her father, her brother and his wife were. And also Bryan should be in the servant's quarters. She was going to go into the forest with him or without, and he probably knew it. So with a nod and probably an instinctive, albeit a male, over-protectiveness, he took an ax that was sitting in a near-by wood pile, collected the lantern, and gestured with the ax, saying, You lead.

And they entered the forest together.

Inside the forest, the umbrella of the trees shielded the moonlight from coming through the tops by more than half and it was a spooky place to be, but the light from the lantern, for which Bryan now began to lead, illuminated their path. Kassandra didn't know how deep this forest ran, but she wagered Bryan knew. If he had been Beautieuse's manservant for nearly three years since her father's passing and had been living here for just as long, then he probably knew his way around and she let him lead. But lead to where? Not even she knew. She was just following her feeling, and the further she walked, the stronger it got.

The edge of a clearing was seen and they made their way to it. And there, in the clearing, they both gasped ,shocked at what they saw.

On a small hill top, overlooking the city of London in the far distance, was a young man, with pale white skin, beaten and bloodied, and nailed to a cross, near-naked, wearing only a loincloth and a crown of thorns much like the Lord Jesus Christ in the bible. Bryan ran to it quickly, gazing up upon the man, then turned and looked at her and shook his head. She didn't know whether that meant the poor man was dead or alive.

Who had done this to him? And was this the man who had just spoken to her in her mind? Did he have a special gift too? He must have to do so. If so, that meant he was still alive, albeit looking unconscious and asleep at the moment. And he looked to be near-death.

A cold wind suddenly blew across the clearing and she pushed back her long, auburn hair that had momentarily blinded her. And then she gasped again, when she saw the stranger with his eyes now wide open, looking down at her. "Oh my dear Lord, you're alive! Bryan, cut him down now!"

To be continued...