Robin's Walk Through History

I am writing a sequel’ to the “Gardener Through History” very differently. I hope future readers will be entranced with it as I am.

I am writing it as though I am (the author) actually there through each historic scene I have created. It is a book that is partly factual and partway an imaginary ‘tale’ through Britain’s history.

1. I transport myself to Britain in the mid 1300’s, to see for myself how Britain was faring, after the eruption of giant Samalas volcano eruption.

It is 1257 this giant volcano erupted on the Indonesian island of Lombok.

The giant volcano caused columns of smoke to reach tens of kilometres into the atmosphere, burying Lombok Island, before crossing the continents, and reaching Europe and Britain. I knew due to this eruption Britain went on to experience severe cold, snow and wet weather.

I wanted to see for myself what life was really like on the land after the eruption, and what effect it had on Britain’s social and economic life from the middle of the 1300’s and onwards to our modern day.

A Little Fantasy

So here I am it’s the 1300’s I’m walking along long a country farm track in Britain’s midlands, Without warning I found myself struggling to walk, however I saw ahead of me just around a corner a horse with a simple two wheeled wagon.

She seemed to be waiting for me. The horse turned around, to see if I had climbed aboard, yes I was aboard, we moved off .

All of a sudden this beautiful horse turned around, to me, and spoke to me. Oh for goodness sake wasn’t I surprised! ‘A talking horse’. She wanted to see if I was alright. So we moved off together up the track.

In this cold weather I am sure she found it hard going, after going several miles, we had moved up a hill, then down the other side. In the distance I saw a bench on the side of the track there seemed to be somebody sitting there.

There was a women, I dismounted from the cart and went over to her. She was freezing cold I spoke to the horse who nodded his head. He didn’t want to let on he was a talking horse straight away. I asked her name she wouldn’t tell me! I asked her to join me, I tried to rub warmth into her body.

We climbed aboard the two wheel wagon and strode off up the track to find a small village. Along the way we encountered villagers struggling with bitter cold, going about their daily chores.

In the village there were many wooden carts just like ours spread along the main street which is wide and dirty and full men and women going about their daily lives.

There were also oxen with wagons stacked with hay or other foodstuff for their farms stopping at their Round House.  Both of us stepped off the cart both very tired, entered the villager’s Round House where the rest of the villagers were heading our horse nodded and rested.

We entered the round house, lady and I wanted to ‘work out’ what year (decade) it was, the round house would give us a chance to talk to others give us a clue who was on Britain’s throne and that would give me (us), where in history we have ended up.

A few locals befriended us and came to talk to us wondering where we had come from. Even our clothes must of so looked different.The villagers were so friendly they took us in to their homes on the edge of the village.

Over the next few days, we eventually ended up ‘working on the land’ assisting the farmers to work their crops. I guessed they were an early Wheat, Barley and Rye.

Over the following months my female friend and I began an admirable friendship went to work daily with the village women.

‘However she wouldn’t tell me her name’. What a sight it must have been to see these local villagers minding to their pigs and chickens scampering around the village. They lived in tiny homes made from straw, wattle and daub mud brick with one room. The woman I was travelling with, I saw helping village women collect berries from bushes close to the village.

After a few months the villagers gained our confidence, particularly after having worked alongside farmers and their women folk.

All being well you will enjoy our journey through history. At different periods of our journey ‘out of the blue’ our horse with its cart will keep appearing, to help us out.

My Travelling Companion’s Family

My travelling companion told me she was eager to look around the little village we had found ourselves in. She wandered off soon after, saying only that she “had someone to find.” I thought little of it at the time. A day or two later, as Roger the horse and his cart and I waited near the edge of the village, she returned, this time with an elderly man walking beside her.

What a sight he was: tall, stooped only slightly with age, long grey hair falling over his shoulders, and a short, neatly trimmed beard. His eyes, however, were the strangest part clear, sharp, as though he could see straight through the centuries themselves.

My companion stood beside him proudly. “I’ve been searching for him for years,” she said quietly. “When I saw Roger, and you, I knew this was my chance to keep looking.” She took a deep breath, then added, “This is my father. My name is Rae Allen.”

At last, she had told me her name.

I turned to the old man and asked who he was. He studied me for a long moment before speaking, his voice steady and calm.

“As long as you keep my daughter close,” he said, “you will be safe on your journey through history. I am the Time Lord, keeper of moments, mover of ages. I guide the paths of travellers such as yourself.”

I could only stare. A Time Lord? Here?

I asked how he possibly knew what was happening to us, how he knew about Roger or the strange way we travelled through the centuries.

He gave a faint smile. “Who do you think tends to Roger the horse? Who sends William the wagon driver, and the others you will meet on your way? Those who appear when you most need them do not come by chance.”

Rae rested a hand on his arm, and the two of them looked as though they shared more than just blood, they shared purpose.

We all needed rest, so we walked together back towards the heart of the village. It was a well-laid-out place, with barns and hen houses clustered around small fields, animals wandering freely, and simple one-room thatched homes huddled together against the cold. Life was hard here, yet there was warmth among the people.

And now, with the Time Lord himself walking beside us, our journey through history felt as though it had only just begun.

We had heard so much about this village when we first arrived. It seemed so well planned, with its small huts spreading out along this track and the others that wound away into the distance. The barns and hen houses sat close to the centre, while the tiny thatched homes formed a loose circle around them, as though the whole place had grown gently from the land itself.

Rae, her father, and I walked slowly through the settlement, taking in the life around us. Children chased one another between the huts, pigs rooted in the mud, and smoke curled from low chimneys into the cold afternoon air.

And there was always Roger.
No matter where we wandered, or what trouble we found ourselves in, he always turned up steady, patient, and waiting with his simple two-wheeled cart as though he understood our journey far better than we did.

With Rae reunited with her father, the Time Lord, and Roger never far from sight, I felt for the first time that our path through history was being guided with purpose. Our real adventure was only just beginning.