IV

Two more days of the 'wonderful fortnight' were passed in the

linen-draper's home at Crosslands before, on the Wednesday forenoon,

John Audland and his guest descended the dales of Westmorland and

climbed the steep, wooded glen that leads to Cammsgill Farm. There, at

the door, with hands outstretched in welcome, stood good John Camm and

his loving wife Mabel. Peeping behind them curiously at the Stranger

was their twelve-year-old son, Tom. At the windows of the farm were to

be seen the faces of the men-servants and maid-servants, for great was

the curiosity to see the Stranger of whom such great tidings had been

told. Among the serving-maids were two sisters, Jane and Dorothy

Waugh. Little did the eager girls imagine that the Stranger whom they

eyed so keenly was to alter the whole course of their lives by his

words that day; that, for both of them, the pleasant, easy, farm life

at Cammsgill was over, and that they were hereafter to go forth to

preach in their turn, to suffer beatings and cruel imprisonments, and

even to cross the seas, in order to publish the same Truth that he had

come to proclaim.

Tom Camm also, boy as he was, was never to forget that eventful

morning. Long years afterwards he remembered every detail of it.

'On the 4th day morning,' he writes, 'John Audland came with George

Fox to the house of John Camm at Cammsgill in Preston Patrick, who

with his wife and familie gladly received G.F.'

And now, while they are 'gladly receiving' their guest and waiting

till it is time to go down the steep hill to Preston Patrick, let us

look back at the farm-house of Cammsgill where they are sitting, and

learn something of its history and that of its owners.

It was to Cammsgill that Farmer John Camm had brought home his bride

on a late day of summer, thirteen years before the eventful year 1652

of which these stories tell. A wise, prosperous man was good John

Camm, one of the most successful 'statesmen' in all the fertile dales

round about. So busy had he been developing his farm, and attending to

the numerous flocks and herds, that were ever increasing under his

skilful management, that time for love-making seemed to have been left

out of his life. But at last, when he was well over forty, he found

the one woman he had been unconsciously needing through all his

prosperous years to make his life round and complete. It was a mellow

day of Indian summer when John and Mabel Camm walked up the winding

road to Cammsgill for the first time as man and wife. But the golden

sunshine that lay on all the burnished riches of the well-filled

farm-yard was dim compared with the inward sunshine that gladdened the

farmer's heart.

Farmer John had made a wise choice, and he knew it. In his eyes

nothing was good enough for his wife, not even the home where he had

been born, and where his ancestors for generations had lived and died;

so Cammsgill had been entirely rebuilt before that golden September

day when John and Mabel Camm came home to begin their new life

together. The re-building had been done in such solid fashion that

part of the farm-house still stands, well-proportioned and

serviceable, after nearly three centuries have passed to test it,

showing that he who builds for love builds truly and well.

Mabel Camm was a proud woman as she stood at the door of her hillside

home and watched the autumn sunlight lighting up her husband's face as

he walked across his fields in the valley, or strode, almost with the

energetic step of a young man, up the crab-apple bordered track to the

farm.

Close at his heels followed his collie, looking up into his master's

face with adoring affection. Not only every animal on the farm loved

the master, the men-servants and maid-servants also would do anything

to please him, for was he not ever mindful of their interests as if

they had been his own? In those days each labourer had three or four

acres of land as of right. This fostered an independent spirit and

made their affection a tribute worth the winning.[8] Later on that

same year, when winter came, earlier than its wont, the fells were

knee-deep in snow and all the beasts were brought for shelter round

the farm to protect them from the snow-drifts and bitter weather on

the upland pastures.

Then it was that at nights in the snug farm-house kitchen, after the

day's work was done, John Camm and his young wife together carved

their initials on the 'brideswain,' a tall oak chest that held the

goodly stock of homespun linen and flax brought by Mabel Camm to her

new home. John Camm was something of an artist. His was the design of

the interlaced initials. All his life he had been a skilful carver

with his tools on the winter evenings, and now he took pleasure in

showing his bride the right way to use them and how to fashion her

strokes aright. Night after night the two heads bent over their task,

but to this day it may still be seen at Cammsgill that one of the two

artists was less skilful than the other, for Mabel's curves are more

angular and without the careless ease of her husband's. What, however,

did unskilful fingers matter when the firelight shone upon two happy

faces bending over the work close together, aglow with the inner

radiance of two thankful hearts?

There were other uses for the brideswain the following summer. The

fair white sheets and pillow-cases were moved to an under-shelf. The

upper half of the chest was filled to overflowing with tiny garments

fashioned by Mabel's own fingers, skilful indeed at this dainty work.

No more woodcarving now, but endless rows of stitchery, tiny tucks and

delicate dotting, all ready to welcome the little son who arrived

before the summer's close, and completed his parents' joy.

Since that day, a dozen years had slipped away. Now young Thomas Camm

was leaving childhood, as he had long left babyhood, behind him. He

was a big boy, quick, strong for his age, and bidding fair to be as

good a farmer as his father some day.

'Cammsgill was a favourite house with both men and women servants, for

Mistress Camm took care that all had their fill of bread, butter,

milk, eggs or bacon, and each their three meals. Of the maid-servants,

Jane and Dorothy Waugh especially looked on their master as a father,

he was so kind and thoughtful of their needs. Indeed no one could walk

up the winding gill without meeting with a warm welcome from the

owners of the farm-house, and on winter evenings there was many a

large "sitting," by aid of the rushlights, in which the neighbours

joined, all hands being busy the while with the knitting of caps and

jerseys for the Kendal trade.... He and his wife greatly loved to

entertain visitors from a distance, especially those who were

like-minded with themselves, also looking for "the coming of the day

of the Lord,"'[9] for all the household at Cammsgill were of the

company of the "Seekers" who met every month at the Chapel of Preston

Patrick in the valley below.

Now at last it is time for the Meeting.

Thomas Camm's account continues: 'And it having been then a common

practice among the said seeking and religiously inclined people to

raise a General Meeting at Preston Patrick Chapel once a month, upon

the fourth day of the week, thither George Fox went, being accompanied

with John Audland and John Camm. John Audland would have had George

Fox go into the place or pew where usually he and the preacher did

sit, but he refused and took a back seat near the door, and John Camm

sat down by him, where he sat silent, waiting upon God for about half

an hour, in which time of silence Francis Howgill seemed uneasy, and

pulled out his Bible and opened it, and stood up several times,

sitting down again and closing his book, and dread and fear being on

him that he durst not begin to preach. After the said silence and

waiting George Fox stood up in the mighty power of God, and in the

demonstration thereof was his mouth opened to preach Christ Jesus, the

Light of Life, and the way to God, and Saviour of all that believe

and obey Him, which was delivered in that power and that authority

that most of the auditory, which were several hundreds, were

effectually reached to the heart, and convinced of the truth that very

day, for it was the day of God's power. A notable day indeed, never to

be forgotten by me Thomas Camm.... I, being then present at that

Meeting, a school-boy but about twelve years of age, yet, I bless the

Lord for His mercy, then religiously inclined, do still remember that

blessed and glorious day, in which my soul, by that living testimony

then borne in the demonstration of God's power, was effectually

opened, reached and convinced, with many more who are seals of that

powerful ministry that attended this faithful minister of the Lord

Jesus Christ, and by which we were convinced, and turned from darkness

to light and from Satan's power to the power of God. After which

Meeting at Preston Chapel, G.F. came to the house of John Camm at

Cammsgill. Next day travelled to Kendal where he had a meeting, where

many were convinced and received his testimony with joy.'

The 'wonderful fortnight' was drawing to a close. The vision on Pendle

Hill, when George Fox beheld a people 'as thick as motes in the sun

that should in time be brought home to the Lord,' had already begun to

form around it a Society of Friends who were pledged to carry it out.

Remember always, it was not the Society that beheld the vision; it was

the vision that created and creates the Society.

The vision is the important thing; for it is still unfulfilled.