“It took me a few minutes of pacing up and down between the graves before I found what I was looking for, a lichen-crusted headstone on which was carved: R.I.P. ELIZA SUTTON DIED 4 OCTOBER 1725 AGED 17 With her, an infant daughter. ‘All that honoured her despise her because they have seen her nakedness. Mine eye runneth down with water.’ I stood for a time in contemplation. Seventeen. It was the same age as that of my own Eliza when we married. Children were not granted us, so we have ne...ver endured the danger and anxiety of childbirth. How could I know what it must have been like for Hargreave, her swain, or for her parents, who had carved such bitter lamentations on her stone? But I became even more pensive over the suffering of Eliza herself. She must have realized her child was dead when the labour began. A woman feels the kicking in her womb and, I suppose, she feels it also when the kicking stops. I moved across to a stone bench beside the path and sat down to unfold the record of Dapperwick versus Sutton.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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