#37.2, Weds., Oct. 5, 2022

Historical setting: 589 C.E. The river crossing near Tours

         In this little fringe of a wood I watch a vixen eluding me, giving up her own hiding so I won’t notice her kits.

         It seems when I am in love the whole world is in love, and when my mind is only on keeping an infant safe, the whole world is a parent protecting family. I wish that were all I had to say of this contagion of spirit. But it is also true that fear makes the world look dangerous, and hate and hurt make the all of everything seem evil. I wonder if it is only an anticipation of things that could go wrong that makes us fear. And if we offer ourselves as the sufferers of hurt and pain can we overcome our fears of imagined losses?  Is that why monks try so hard to feel hurt? Do all those suffering Christians use pain to take control of the possibility of hurt that is actually beyond their control? And now I wonder about that thing, the birthing pain. The woman I love and the child I have yet to meet must share the anticipation of that pain into life. Every living being enters into earthly life through a gateway of pain? So how is this holy plan for birthing a metaphor of Spirit?

         Eve’s cottage is gone yet the herbs of the garden still wander wild on wayward roots.  The women see them as random hidden treasures waiting for their harvest so now the bed of the cart is filled with straggly wet roots and bundles of herbs topped off with pillows and pillows of wormwood. All this wet fresh fragrance would probably overwhelm us, but for the wafting scents of the wet wools of monks robes.

         On our way, by afternoon we reach the turn in the road toward Count Bertigan’s estate where Jesse still tends the count’s stables. Teardrop comes to the pasture gate to greet Ana, and Jesse comes out surprised to see we have acquired a cart, a donkey and another woman on my brief walk back to Poitiers.  I was just here yesterday, and I told Jesse it would just be Ana and I who would come back this way on foot.

         Jesse immediately takes notice that the donkey is a jack, and the little fellow already has his sights set on Ana’s dapple gray mare. He suggests we see what happens if we just let the donkey into the pasture with the mares.

(Continues tomorrow)

#37.1, Tues., Oct. 4, 2022

Historical setting: 589 C.E. The river crossing near Tours

         This cold October rain is relentless. Rivulets of gray water run in the ruts merging into the full river of roadway. The little donkey shakes his head to clear his eyes. I lead him walking, while the women spread the tarp over the cart for a bit of shelter for themselves.

         Ana affirms my wondering, “Before the spring planting we will be glad to have Colleen with us. She is a skilled and able midwife.”

         It’s been hinted. And I’ve had my thoughts, maybe they were thoughts but they felt more like dreams or random hopes. But now it is said in words complete with an earthly measurement of time. “Before the spring planting.”

         We arrive at the place that was once Eve’s cottage and garden. Ana wants to take time here to grieve. The graves of Eve and Eve’s mother, and the others of my family are on high enough ground not to be washed out by the floods. Colleen follows Ana, listening to each memory she shares of her days when this flattened spot of mud was a home and she was a child yet innocent of deep loss.

         I look out at the lands that were once my fields, then Ezra’s vineyards, and now here is a community of poor farms. The forests have been drawn back to nothing more than a fringe along the riverbank.  And the river roils high and fast just now, so I gaze toward a more peaceful source of contemplation starring only into the fringy wood that remains.

         A fox is sneaking a look at me.  I see her for a moment peaking around a tree that is much too thin to hide her head and tail all at one time. She probably thinks if her eyes are hidden I can’t see her.  But I do see her and now I see why she is so near and so concerned with a person in her wood. She is between me and a row of three little kit faces, climbing on their baby fox legs to see over the same fallen log I seemed to be approaching. It might be just the right breadth for carving into a cradle, but now I understand it was already serving that purpose. The brave mother fox was giving herself up as a distraction from her babies.  I know she could outrun me were I to pursue. She is egging on the chase to save her kits.

(Continues tomorrow)

#36.13, Thurs., Sept. 29, 2022

Historical setting: 589 C.E. near Poitiers

         The moon set, leaving us in a long darkness, but not at all for sleeping and already we are gathering for morning prayers. Ana and Colleen are draped in huge woolen robes hidden completely in hoods and sleeves. There are no secrets in this hall though nothing is spoken.

         I’ve always known the stable master is chatty and a hub for gossip. And this morning when I go to check on the horses he already has a story I didn’t know.

         “The earl’s guardsmen are searching everywhere for two young women on a dapple gray.

         “So Brother Lazarus, this morning there is a dapple gray right here, who seems quite accustomed to sharing a stall with the bay you ride.”

         “And so it is. The abbot is well aware of this.”

         “You will have to hide this horse better. The guards will be back.”

         I know what must be done. I will ride back to the Loire today, and deliver both of our horses to their proper stable at Jesse’s farm. Tomorrow I will walk back down this long road, and when it is safe for the women to travel the open roadway again we will make a pilgrimage to the pagan village where the Druid Largin is planning for an heir.

         A constant autumn rain washes every good plan over with a dull drudge but the horses were returned, and now I’m making my way walking along the muddy road to Poitiers when I meet with a donkey cart driven by two sopping wet “monks.”

         My gracious hugs are for Ana, and I hear their story.

         “When I told Lady Elise’s family what had happened the magistrate was alerted, so the earl’s guards are no longer looking for us so it is safe for us to travel. The earl has to answer for his crimes. Lady’s mum was so grateful she showered Colleen with this donkey and cart, and supplies for our journey, though maybe that was also because Colleen was let go for lack of need for a midwife. She was given a small purse of coins and some supplies as we go on this mission together to attend the birth of Tilp’s and Thole’s baby.

         “And Laz, by spring it will be us needing a midwife. I will be glad it is Colleen we have with us.”

         Thank you God.

(Continues Tuesday, October 4, 2022)

#36.12, Weds., Sept. 28, 2022

Historical setting: 589 C.E. near Poitiers

         Ana is telling me of her fears of the earl’s guardsmen.

         “I rode as fast as I could ride in the dim moonlight by the river, but I knew that right behind me were the earl’s guardsmen. They had seen me in the earl’s stable readying my horse. So I only took time to tell her mother where Elise was, but not to tell all the details. I took the city road into Poitiers so I wouldn’t pass the guards on the river road. When I got to the monastery of the Holy Cross Colleen was waiting and said Lady Elise had become conscious, and the nuns were only concerned for the cutting and stitching we had done. That was good. I know we both did our work well. So we left without that worry, then both of us came down to this monastery sure that no one will look for us here.”

         “You are right about that. Only men can stay here.”

         We brush down Ana’s horse, and now I meet Colleen.

         Colleen is dark haired, a simple and serious Irish girl with a mere ribbon of a form as one with a lifetime of fasting. Her brogue echoed the monks of our home in the Vosges. I asked her if she ever knew of these terrors of Gaul when she left her homeland.

         She looked away to smile at my question.

         “I knew nothing of anything then, except babies. The father of our family died, and a widow needs no midwife so I sold myself for a purse to care for my mother and the others. Here the lady’s mum sent a servant to find one like me, and now here I am hiding like a thief in another man’s hay.”

         I smile straight at the girl, “You’re very brave.”

         The abbot is standing in the man-door with a stern scowl, and folded arms.

         “These women are seeking sanctuary here, Good Father. They have had a harrowing night saving a woman and her infant and escaping the guards of a murdering husband.”

         I can well understand what he is seeing here as the abbot of a monastery. A wayward guest is found to be chatting with two young women in the hay of the stable, and now this fellow is asking for shelter for them? 

         His answer is simple. Provide them with a cell and give them monk’s robes that they may join with less notice for prayers and the meal.

(Continues tomorrow)


#36.11, Tues., Sept. 27, 2022

Historical setting: 589 near Poitiers

         Ana is telling me of finding Lady Elise.

         “She was neither blue nor gray. Her skin was pale but not dead. I thought she may actually only be unconscious but seemed not dead at all. Immediately I had to allow this dangerous man a story to save himself.

         “I said, ‘she obviously had a terrible spill down the stairs. Oh, you poor man. It must have been a terrible shock for you to find her like this. And then, to carry her all the way up the tower stairs and place her so lovingly in this bed… you poor man.’

         “He devoured my pity like a starving dog with a heap of spoiling meat.

         “And just then Colleen delivered the child. At first Colleen was miffed at my kindness to the father, then she realized the purpose and she took on the same demeanor in handing him the baby and escorting them both from the room so I could work.

         “My first task was to remove the sac, as one would do in a normal birth, something surely not done if a mother is dead. Then I set about to suture the incision. Even though I was prepared and practiced this seemed to take a very long time just to be sure I had completely mended every tear. I heard someone at the door as I was preparing to tend to the woman’s facial wounds. I realized she very certainly was living. Colleen came in and held the door closed.

         “She told me to hurry, the earl was on a tirade giving orders to have the body removed immediately. The undertakers were already scrambling up the stairs. And immediately they were here at the door. They came bustling in with a board to remove the body. I realized then I had seen one of these men at the gate at Lady Elise’s family estate and that was a great relief. I asked if he worked for her family, and he affirmed they were taking her body on to her own family. But I begged him to take Colleen and Lady Elise to the Monastery of the Holy Cross where she can get the care she needs because she is yet living; and there, also, the earl’s guards won’t go looking for her. I told them I would ride to the parent’s estate to tell her parents what had happened and where to find her.”

(Continues tomorrow)

#36.10, Thurs., Sept. 22, 2022

Historical setting: 589 C.E. Poitiers

         Dear God let us feel your presence. And stay close to Ana. Amen.

         This afternoon I return to the work of helping Brother August and his apprentice. With three of us working, we have revealed the shoulders of the mother and the head of the infant is now emerging from the stone. Shall we set this child gazing at his mother, or does his face look out at the whole world of other human faces?

         “The infant eyes seek only purity and love of a mother.” Brother August listens to his apprentice’s input. And they decide on a tender Jesus, seeing only his mother while the rest of humankind may be mired in all these loveless sins of our own making, carving Jesus to be a mini-king, not a human savior.

         It’s that very brief sliver of darkness a monastery allows for sleep between evening prayers and the dark waking for morning prayers when those of us in the guest room by the stable are awakened by a fast horse arriving in the night. I look out on the courtyard, and there is Ana and another woman both on Teardrop. Ana sees me now, looking from the window and she gestures for me to come quickly.

         Her horse needs to be walked. So the young woman with her, Colleen, waits for us in the stable while Ana and I walk and she tells me of the danger they are in.        

         “There was no waiting for morning, Laz.

         “Colleen and I were called to the Lady’s chamber but were told Lady Elise had died, yet if we came quickly enough we would be able to deliver the baby. We went, and it was just as the journal had described. The mother was wrapped tight around the head and shoulders in a linen sheet that was spotted with blood. Colleen went to work immediately making her careful cut just as we had prepared, though I noticed their was more blood than I thought from a corpse. I didn’t mention that because I didn’t want to make Colleen feel she was doing anything wrong. Meanwhile, the earl was standing by wailing and crying, sobbing convulsively but with no tears. It was a disturbing distraction. At first I brought him a basin, thinking he was puking, but then I realized he is really only trying to pretend he is in shock. I lifted the sheet from the face of the dead woman and saw she had been beaten badly.”

(Continues Tuesday, September 27, 2022)

#36.9, Weds., Sept. 21, 2022

Historical setting: 589 C.E. Poitiers

         Ana is telling me that she and Colleen turned the previous midwife’s journal over to Lady Elise’s mother.

         “It affirmed the family’s worst fears. These childbirth deaths may not have been the natural consequences of difficult births, but something more sinister. The earl is one who seems the needy child, given to little fits of rage and grand displays in tears of sorrow. Of course that would be expected with his three wives passing. So he finds a new wife — one marriage happens after another always finding a young woman’s pity for him where marital love would be the better bond.”

         I asked Ana, with my thoughts absent of wealth and status, “What motive would a man have were this some nefarious pattern? It seems like he must be hateful of women.”

         Ana explains a whole insidious plot.

         “Caring or not caring has little to do with it Laz. Lady Elise’s mother quickly identified a familiar motive. She thought the earl was collecting this nursery in order to take over the inheritances of these children’s deceased, but noble-born mothers. So the wealth of several important families from whom this fellow reaps his wives will all end up at his estate. And ‘wealth is power,’ this very powerful elder woman told us.  Colleen was surprised by her cold calculations. Here we are, completely focused on the well-being of a young woman, and her own mother is seeing her child in terms of family fortune. Maybe it’s just the strange calculating nature of the aristocracy. 

          “Then there was something more we hadn’t thought of.  What happens after the mother is dead and the baby is safe?  Apparently the midwife is sent away so abruptly as to leave behind her personal things. And where does the midwife go? The wife’s body is taken away for burial in the midst of all the coming and going. Lady Elise’s mother was very concerned about the earl’s guards and servants. And who were these coroners? Who cared for the bodies? 

         “So first thing tomorrow Lady Elise’s parents will be sending their own guards to bring their daughter home to this estate for the birthing.”

         To me this seems like a good idea under the circumstances, but Ana and the midwife Colleen don’t know where that will leave them to stay.

         Our parting as usual is a warm embrace and words of encouragement and love.

(Continues tomorrow)

#36.8, Tues., Sept. 20, 2022

Historical setting: 589 C.E. The road to Ligugé

         Today I meet Ana for our ride and ask her if she and Colleen have a plan if they find the same circumstance as described in the midwife’s journal.

         Ana tells me, “It’s very helpful to know what happened in that instance, though it doesn’t offer any medical information we can use. Now we’ve decided that when we are called to the chamber if we find Lady Elise partly wrapped for burial I will follow Colleen as a student would, letting her deliver the child alone with a blade in the center of the abdomen where the baby is usually most easily heard to be living. We’ve been pretending a practice of this with an oat bag as the mom. She will use the smallest cut she can to remove the baby, and as soon as the baby is delivered she will turn her attention completely to the father and the living baby for the purpose of letting me work alone on the corpse. She will have him focus all of his attention on the good fortune of a living son; but also, hopefully she can take him from the room, while I stay with the body. I will have a chance then to examine the remains and learn what I need to know of a woman’s anatomy.

         “But Lady Elise seems so healthy and well-prepared for this, and with two midwives, we hardly can imagine there would be any need to make this my opportunity for a lesson. We are prepared to meet this either in a normal way with no deaths at all, but also, if Lady Elise is found to have died as described in the journal, I will be able to learn from it. Whatever happens, at least something good can come of it.”

         Ana continues, “Lady Elise’s family is prominent in Poitiers, and her family’s estate is also on the river near the earl’s villa. We knew that Elise’s mother knew the tragic history of young brides coming to death in childbirth at the earl’s villa, and she feared for her daughter’s safety. That was why she chose a midwife carefully and gifted Colleen to Elise. So, on finding the journal, Colleen and I took a walk up to Elise’s family with our concern.  Her mother was outraged.”

(Continues tomorrow)

#36.7, Thurs., Sept. 15, 2022

Historical setting: 589 C.E. Poitiers

         While I stay as a guest at Ligugè I appreciate the hours for prayer and psalms with these few elder brothers.  I help some with the work on the statue that Brother August and his young apprentice are doing. And as close as we are, with Ana at the villa, and me here, nearly everyday Ana rides down here and she and I go riding together.

         Ana discovered that one of the recent midwives who lived in the servant’s quarters of the villa was literate. She left a journal among with her personal belongings when she was hastily sent away after the last wife of this earl died in childbirth. At this villa the nursery raises this nobleman’s three sons of various ages. There is no mention of daughters, but through all these years the cemetery fills with women, and the bed in the earl’s marriage chamber is rarely shared. Ana is hoping to find the cause of so many mysterious deaths of first time mothers; they happen so consistently it hardly seems normal. Of course it’s true that women often die in birthing children, especially when it’s the woman’s first child. Mothers who birth several children just have some mysterious gift of their good natures that allows for both lives to be safe. But even considering that, these deaths seem unusual. The nuns at the convent want nothing to do with the goings on at the villa.

         I asked Ana if the journal is helpful. She said no one else even knows of this. So few servants are literate and it was stuck away in the servant’s quarters so no one has given it any attention. But it might be very helpful as she and Colleen are making a plan.

          Apparently the mother described in this journal died before the labor even began. The journaling midwife wasn’t called until the mother was already mostly wrapped in linen grave cloth. The husband was grieving at her side, and the only urgency seemed to be to rescue the infant who was alive, but not yet delivered. So of course, the midwife immediately used her blade and rescued the infant.

         As I return to the stable at the monastery I can attest to the fact that it is much easier to deliver a mother and child from a block of marble, than into life itself.

(Continues Tuesday, September 20, 2022)

#36.6, Weds., Sept. 14, 2022

Historical setting: 589 C.E. Poitiers

         Ana and I have found a cozy quietude in the haymow of this villa stable. I asked her if Colleen, the midwife/servant-slave here is a good teacher.

         “Teacher, no. She’s more like me as an eight-year-old than she is like my teacher. Lady Elise is due any day now, — a good reason for me to be here — so Colleen and I have been preparing the tools and going over the procedures. Colleen’s blade and needle were thoroughly rusted. We could use mine from my kit if we need to use a blade immediately, but I thought it best to teach her to clean her tools and polish them bright.

         “Clean, clean clean, Eve always told me. Before every birth, or any kind of procedure in fact, I needed to prepare three wash basins with warm water and cleansing herbs for the prayers. With the first prayer wash hands and tools in the first basin as preparation and if we are in a Christian home, we say ‘Dear Father, guide us.’ When we know what we are going to do to help, we wash in the second bowl and we say ‘Dear Christ stay near us,’ and at the third bowl, when all is done that can be done, wash everything clean and ask the breath of Spirit to continue. Even though Colleen is Christian all the time, and Eve only when it was needed, Colleen had never heard of this Christian washing Trinity.

         “Eve told me that even though it sounds superstitious it really seems to work for healing. Whenever she used the three cleansing prayers she saw faster healing and less infection.

         “So there we were sanding and polishing Colleen’s tools by candlelight, deep into the darkness of last night. But now everything is ready.”

         This afternoon Ana and Colleen plan to examine Lady Elise so Ana thinks she will have a better idea of when that birth might be, though she adds, it’s always in God’s time so no one really knows. I suggest Ana take a ride when she has time and we can see if the hay is as soft in the mow at Ligugè, as it is here. Hay always seems as fine as eiderdown when it is shared.

         Thank you God, for Ana, for the hay, for the beasts beneath us, so patient and gentle. Thank you for more beauty than we can even speak when we are in love.  Thank you God.

(Continues tomorrow)