Mistress Margery Part 15

"You do misconceive me, mistress. I trust soothly, to go but for a season, though mayhap a long one; but not home. An' you will give me leave, and I have my father's goodwill to it, I shall go abroad."

"Go _where_, Richard?" asked Dame Lovell, in some alarm and no little astonishment.

"Anywhere," he answered, listlessly, "that is far enough away. I shall wend unto the East Country."

"Eh, Richard! thou wilt be slain of robbers!" cried Friar Andrew. "All yon country is full filled of Saracens and heathens, who think no more of shedding Christian blood than of cooking a capon."

"I shall be slain, good father, I trow, if I stay here. There is no peace heraway in England for them who read G.o.d's Word, and I have read it. I should quickly be indicted, I ween; for a Lollard, an' I stayed.

Master Carew told me yestre'en, that there were spies hereabouts, and he did trow he was suspected. And if they take him, they will come next to me."

"Richard! Richard!" cried Dame Lovell. "Thou frightest me, lad! But wilt thou go, soothly? I wis not how to leave thee do so."

"Dear mistress," said Richard, in a low tone, "I pray G.o.d and you to pardon me, but I fear I am only a poor caitiff coward. I could not bear the fiery ordeal which Margery has borne. I will confess to you, good lady, that night and day I do pray G.o.d to spare me the same. I had better go, ere I am tired, and perchance fail and deny my Master. I will give you to wit of my welfare, in case I should meet any Palmers on their way home, and may be I can come back, an' there should rise a king who shall give us leave to live."

"Well, my lad! I trow I must not let thee!" said Dame Lovell, in a grieved tone. "I wis not how to do without thee, Richard; but I ween I should sorrow more to keep thee and bring thee to grief, than in leaving thee go away from me."

The following day brought a servant in Lord Marnell's livery, with a letter to Richard.

"_To the hands of Master Richard Pynson, at Lovell Tower, give these_.

"Good Master Pynson,--I pray you for to look warily unto your ways; for I hear by messengers from London that you be suspected for a Lollard, and Abbot Bilson hath your name on his list of evil affected unto the Church. If you can wend for a time unto some other country, I trow you would find your safety in so doing. I beseech you burn this letter, or it may do me a mischief.

"It hath come into my mind that Madge did name unto me your desire of knighthood. If such be still your wish, I pray you make use of me in this matter. Let me wit by the bearer of these your pleasure herein, and if you desire to watch this even, I will meet you in Bostock Church early on the morrow.

"I set out on my way to London to-morrow.

"Commend me in all lowly fashion to my good mother; and with G.o.d's blessing and mine to the child, I rest, your loving friend, R. Marnell."

Richard read Lord Marnell's letter to Dame Lovell, and then at once put it in the fire. He determined to accept the kind offer thus made to him; and accordingly he sent word by the messenger that he would be ready to meet Lord Marnell in Bostock Church, at any early hour on the following morning.

Knighthood was then conferred in two ways. A knight-banneret was one created on the field of battle. An ordinary knight was required to be of good family and of a suitable age, and the accolade was given him after a night's fasting and watching in some church. Other, but less important ceremonies were also observed. This latter course was necessarily the one chosen by Richard. At five o'clock on the following morning, Lord Marnell met him in Bostock Church, and gave him the stroke on the shoulder with the flat of his sword, which was required to make its recipient a knight. [See Note 1.] Richard thanked Lord Marnell fervently for his warning, and also for his kindness in offering him knighthood; and told him that he had already resolved to go abroad, before receiving his letter.

"I think you will do well," said he; "but I pray you, Sir Richard, to lose no time, for spies be about in Marston even now."

Late that night, after an affectionate farewell to Dame Lovell and Friar Andrew, and a warm kiss to little Geoffrey, who was fast asleep, Sir Richard Pynson set out on his long and perilous journey. Dame Lovell sent with him one of her own servants, a man who she knew would imperil his own life sooner than that of Richard; and he returned to her in a few days with the welcome tidings that he had seen Richard safely embarked on a vessel for La Roch.e.l.le, with Master Carew's son, a youth of about eighteen, as his squire. The servant had, however, more, and less agreeable news than this to tell; for as he pa.s.sed through Marston, he had been told that Master Carew was arrested, and on his journey to London under a strong guard.

So set in the bitter persecution, which was to last for many weary years.

A full twelvemonth had pa.s.sed since Richard's departure. Of Lord Marnell, Dame Lovell had neither seen nor heard anything more. Alice Jordan had arrived, to little Geoffrey's great delight; but she had only been able to report the return of her master to London, as she had left that place the day after his arrival. Dame Lovell fulfilled her promise of promotion for Margery's humble but faithful friend, who was henceforth generally addressed in the house as "Mistress" Alice. Little Geoffrey, though somewhat consoled by Alice's appearance, missed Richard sorely; and demanded of his grandmother at least once a day, "when he would come back!"

The family and household were seated at supper, on a summer afternoon in the year 1402, when the sound of a horn outside the moat sent one of the farm-servants hurriedly to the gate. He returned saying, "A holy Palmer, good mistress, seeketh entrance."

"A Palmer! bring him in speedily, good Hodge!" exclaimed Dame Lovell.

"Blessed is the house whereinto entereth a Palmer,--and mayhap he may give us to wit of Richard."

The Palmer was attired in a long coat of coa.r.s.e brown frieze, with a large flapped hat, not unlike that of a coal-heaver. He was conducted to the high table, where Friar Andrew served him with meat, and put all manner of questions to him. He had come, he said, from Damascus, where he had met with a friend of theirs, one Sir Richard Pynson, and he brought a packet from him; which he thereupon took from his wallet, and delivered into Dame Lovell's hands. It was a large packet, and evidently contained something more than merely a letter. Dame Lovell was highly delighted, particularly when, on opening the parcel, she drew out a magnificent piece of baudekyn, one of the richest dress-stuffs then made, and only to be procured from Constantinople. Beside this the packet only contained a letter, which Dame Lovell was sorely puzzled how to read. There was n.o.body at Lovell Tower who could read except Friar Andrew, and he, as has been previously stated, was not by any means a first-cla.s.s scholar. However, Dame Lovell pa.s.sed him the letter, and after spending some time in the examination of it, he announced that he thought he could read it, "for the lad had written the letters great, like a good lad, as he always was." Richard had, indeed, purposely done so, because he antic.i.p.ated that Friar Andrew would have to read it. The Palmer interposed, saying that he could read well, and offered to read the letter; but this Dame Lovell civilly declined, because she thought there might be secrets in the letter, and she did not know whether the Palmer were to be trusted. Friar Andrew was mechanically retiring into one of the deep windows, but Dame Lovell stopped him, and requested him to follow her to her own room. She gathered up her baudekyn, and left the servants to entertain the Palmer, who she gave orders should be feasted with the best in the house.

"Now, father," said Dame Lovell, when she had Friar Andrew and the letter safe in her own apartment, "Now read, I pray thee; but we will have no eavesdroppers, and though Palmers be holy men, yet may they carry tales."

Friar Andrew sat down, cleared his throat, and began to read rather grandiloquently. He read syllable by syllable, like a child, and every now and then stumbled over a hard word. As to the names of places, he declared himself unable to read those at all. I therefore purpose to give the letter, not as Andrew read it, but as Richard wrote it.

"_To the hands of the very worthy Dame, my good lady and mistress, Dame Agnes Lovell, of Lovell Tower, be these delivered with all convenient speed_.

"Dear Mistress and my worthy Dame,--In as humble and lowly wise as may be, I commend myself to your kindly favour, hoping that these may find you in health, as they leave me presently. I do you to wit, good mistress, that I have arrived safely, by the grace of our Lord, at Damascus, which is a very fair and rich city, and full of all manner of merchandise; and I have been by Byzantium, and have seen all the holy relics there kept; to wit, the cross of our Lord, and His coat, and the sponge and reed wherewith the heathen Jews ['Cursed be they!' interposed Friar Andrew] did give Him to drink, and more blessed relics else than I have the time to write of, the which nathless be named, as I think, in the Travels of Sir John Maundeville. This city of Damascus is very great, and there be about the same so fair gardens as I never did see at any other place; moreover, Saint Paul here dwelt, and was a leech. [See Note 2.] Also I give you to wit, good lady, that I look by our Lord's help, to go on to the holy city of Jerusalem, the which is from here five days' journey. And I send you herein a fine piece of baudekyn, the bravest I could see, the which I bought in the market at Byzantium, to make you a rare gown for feast-days. Moreover, I beseech you to say unto good Father Andrew, (I count he will read this letter, and therefore do say unto himself), I would fain have sent you somewhat likewise, good father, but as yet I found not to my hand aught that would like you; but I look, when I shall be in Jerusalem, if it be the Lord's pleasure that I come therein, for to get you some relics, by the which I wis you will set great store." ["Thou art a good lad," said the friar].

"Edmund Carew is in health, and is a faithful squire, and a pa.s.sing honest fellow [see note 3]; but he doth long for to hear news of his father, and my heart also is oft-times sore to wit what is become of mine old friend. If you shall hear of any one who wendeth unto the Land of Promise, I beseech you send us news herein. Likewise would I fain know somewhat of the Lord Marnell, who I guess [see note 4] hath now returned to London. Is Geoffrey yet with you? I pray you ask him if he remembereth me, for an' he doth, I will bring him a brave thing when I shall come: and G.o.d's blessing and mine be with the sweet heart, and keep him ever from all evil.

"I beseech you commend me humbly unto the Lord Marnell, if you see him or send to him, and also unto Sir Ralph Marston, when you shall have speech of him; and greet well all the maidens and servants from me.

Pray salute also Mistress Katherine on my part, and specially Mistress Alice Jordan. Moreover, I beseech you to make my most humble duty and service unto my good knight my father, and my good lady my mother, and salute from me lovingly my sistren, who I trust be all in health. I met this holy Palmer at a church called Our Lady of Sardenak, the which is five miles from this city; and he hath promised me for to deliver my letters with safety, and in all convenient haste. I have written also unto my father by him; wherefore, if he come unto you first, as I count he will do, I pray you for my sake to put him in the way to Pynsonlee.

"I give you to wit also, good mistress, that in this country be some men who call themselves Jacobites,--to wit, disciples of Saint James,--and they be right Lollards, holding that a man should make confession to G.o.d and no wise unto the priest; and also read they G.o.d's Word in their own tongue, and not in Latin, the which giveth me much marvel how they came in this place, for they do wit nothing of us and of our country.

Nathless, I trow that G.o.d learneth [teaches] His own alike in all lands and at divers times.

"I pray you specially, good mistress, that you give me to wit how I may come home. Doth King Henry still reign? and is he yet evil affected toward the Lollards? for so long as things be in this case, I dare in no wise take my way unto you.

"And now, dear mistress, I pray G.o.d to have you in His holy keeping, to the which I commit you all.

"From your very humble serving-man and loving friend, Richard Pynson.

"Edmund Carew prayeth me for to make his lowly commendations unto you.

"Written at Damascus, this xxvii day of November."

This was the first and last letter which Dame Lovell received from Richard Pynson. Probably he wrote many others, but they never came to hand.

Friar Andrew, with the greatest difficulty, managed to write back a few lines. His letter took him a whole week to compose and transfer to paper. It was written in short sentences, like a child's epistle; and nearly every sentence commenced with Richard's name. Friar Andrew informed his correspondent that all parties named in his letter were well; that Geoffrey was still with them, sent his loving commendations, and said he remembered him, and would never forget him as long as he lived; that of Lord Marnell they had only heard a rumour which they could not believe, of his having joined an insurrection in the West; that Master Carew was had up to London and strictly examined by the council, but that his answers were so ingeniously evasive that they could lay hold of nothing, and nothing had been found in his house which could criminate him; he had accordingly been dismissed with a caution.

Sir Ralph Marston had privately declared that "the old fox must have hidden his Lollard books in some uncommonly safe place, for I wis he had some." Friar Andrew concluded his letter with a malediction upon "evil companions," by which he meant the anti-Lollard party; for though Andrew cared not a straw about the matter of opinion, he could never forgive them for his favourite's death. He also besought Richard to "look well to his ways, and have nought to do with heathen Jews and Saracens, who all worshipped mawmetis," [see note 5] and to come home as soon as he could--which, however, must not be just now.

Friar Andrew then folded his elaborate and arduous piece of composition, and directed it in remarkable characters and singular spelling, as follows:--

"_To ye hondes of ye veraye G.o.de Knyghte, Syr Rechurt Pynsone of Pinnsonrue, beyng yn ye Halie Londe at Dommosscsc_ (this word gave him immense trouble), _or elsewhar, dilyuher thes_."

"There!" said the friar, with a deep sigh of relief in conclusion, as he exhibited the fruit of his prowess in triumph to Dame Lovell.

"Methinketh that Richard himself could not better those letters!"

Dame Lovell looked with unfeigned admiration at the cabalistic characters, for such they were in her eyes, and declared them "right brave," opining moreover that "learning was soothly a pa.s.sing rare thing!"

Note 1. Knighthood is now conferred only by the Sovereign, who is "the fountain of honour," or by a viceroy, as representing the Sovereign. In ancient times, however, "a knight could make a knight." When the Duke of Suffolk was taken prisoner in battle by a simple squire, he asked, before surrendering his sword, "Are you a knight?" "No," was the answer. "Kneel, then," replied Suffolk, "that I may make you one; for I will never give up my sword to a squire." The squire knelt, and Suffolk knighted his captor, and then delivered his sword to one who, by the laws of chivalry, had now become his equal.

Note 2. The reader does not need to search through the Acts of the Apostles for any mention of Saint Paul's having been a doctor for it is one of the endless legends of the Middle Ages, of which Maundeville's Travels are full.

Note 3. A very pleasant companion. "Fellow" and "companion" have now exchanged meanings, though we still speak of a bed_fellow_ and the _fellow_ to a glove.

Note 4. This "Americanism" is really an old English phrase, as many more so-called Americanisms also are.

Note 5. Idols. Our forefathers had a rooted idea that Jews and Mohammedans were idolaters. Their very word for idols, "Mawmetis," was a corruption of the name of Mahomet.