Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
Mistress Margery, A Tale of the Lollards, by Emily Sarah Holt.________________________________________________________________________
This is a short book, but it was quite hard to transcribe on account ofso much of it being in mediaeval English, with its inconsistent anduncouth spelling.
Margery is a young woman of high birth, who goes one day to hear asermon preached by one of the new Lollards, who advise people to readthe Bible as recently translated by Wycliffe, and to believe only whatthey find therein. This was directly contrary to the view of theofficial church, which had made up all sorts of doctrines that could beseen to be not at all supported by the words of the Gospel. Margery canonly get hold of a copy of the Gospel according to Saint John.
Margery is very much struck with the words of the Gospel, despite thehostility of all around her. Everyone was far too afraid of the extremepunishment meted out by "Holy Church" to those who questioned itsteachings. And Margery ends up by being burnt at the stake for herbelief in the Gospel, as opposed to what was taught by the Church.
But you will learn a lot about upper-class life in the early years ofthe fifteenth century, and if you can put up with the forms of speech,you will gain thereby. Not recommended for audiobook, since a greatdeal of editing, such as removal of footnotes, conversion of mediaevalspeech to modern, and so forth.
________________________________________________________________________MISTRESS MARGERY, A TALE OF THE LOLLARDS, BY EMILY SARAH HOLT.
CHAPTER ONE.
A REGULAR OF OXENFORDE.
"Give me the book, and let me read; My soul is strangely stirred-- They are such words of love and truth As ne'er before I heard!"
Mary Howitt.
The sun was shining brightly on the battlements and casements of LovellTower. The season was spring, and the year 1395. Within the house,though it was barely seven o'clock in the morning, all was bustle andconfusion, for Dame Lovell was superintending her handmaidens in thepreparation of dinner. A buxom woman was Dame Lovell, neither tall norshort, but decidedly stout, with a round, good-natured face, which justthen glowed and burned under the influence of the fire roaring on thelarge grateless hearth. She wore a black dress, heavily trimmed at thebottom with fur, and she carried on her head one of those remarkableelevations generally known as the Syrian or conical head-dress, made ofblack stiffened gauze, and spangled with golden stars. Her assistants,mostly girls of from sixteen to twenty-five years of age, were occupiedin various parts of the kitchen; while Mistress Katherine, astaid-looking woman of middle age, who filled a post somewhat similar tothe modern one of housekeeper, was employed at a side table in mixingsome particularly elaborate compound. Among this busy throng moved DameLovell, now giving a stir to a pot, and now peeping into a pan, boxingthe ears of any maiden who appeared remiss in her duty, and generallykeeping up a strict and active supervision.
"Nan, thy leeks be not hewn small enough. Cicely, look to the pottage,that it boil not over. Al'ce, thou idle jade!"--with a sound box on theear,--"thou hast left out the onions in thy blanch-porre! Margery!Madge! Why, Madge, I say! Where is Mistress Margery, maidens? Joan,lass, hie thee up, and see whether Mistress Margery be not in thechamber."
Joan, a diminutive girl of sixteen, quitted the parsley she waschopping, and ran lithely out of the room, to which she soon returned,and, dropping a courtesy, announced that "Mistress Margery was in herchamber, and was coming presently,"--which latter word, in the year1395, meant not "by and by," as it now does, but "at present." MistressMargery verified the assertion of Joan by following her into the kitchenalmost immediately. And since Mistress Margery is to play the importantpart of heroine, it may be well to devote a few words to her person andcostume. She is the only child of Sir Geoffrey Lovell, Knight, and DameAgnes Lovell, and is now seventeen years of age; rather under the middleheight, slenderly formed, with an appearance of great fragility anddelicacy; her complexion is very fair, of that extreme fairness whichoften betokens disease, and her face almost colourless. Her featuresare regular, and classical in their contour; her eyes are a clear grey--honest, truthful eyes, that look straight at you; and her hair, which isalmost long enough, when let down, to touch her feet, is of that palegolden colour so much celebrated in the Middle Ages, and so very rarelyto be seen now. Mistress Margery's attire comprises a black dress, sostiff, partly from its own richness of material, and partly withwhalebone, that it is quite capable of standing upright without anyassistance from Mistress Margery's person. Its trimming consists of aborder of gris, or marten's fur; and over this black petticoat the younglady wears a cote-hardie, or close-fitting jacket, also edged with gris.Her head is not encumbered by the steeplecap which disfigures hermother; instead of it she wears the beautiful "dove-cote," a net ofgolden tissue, ornamented with pearls, within which her hair isconfined.
It may also be as well to notice here, that Mistress Margery is highlyaccomplished. Of course she can play the lute, and sing, and workelaborate and delicate embroidery, and compound savoury dishes; andequally of course does she know any nobleman or gentleman by a glance athis shield, and can tell you in a moment to whom belong the three lionsrampant sable, and who owns the bend engrailed argent on a field gules.These are but the ordinary acquirements of a gentlewoman; but ourheroine knows more than this. Mistress Margery can read; and thehandmaidens furthermore whisper to each other, with profound admirationof their young mistress's extraordinary knowledge, that Mistress Margerycan _write_. Dame Lovell cannot do either; but Sir Geoffrey, who is aliterary man, and possesses a library, has determined that his daughtershall receive a first-rate education. Sir Geoffrey's library is a verylarge one, for it consists of no less than forty-two volumes, five ofwhich are costly illuminated manuscripts, and consist of the Quest ofthe Sangraal [see Note 1], the Travels of Sir John Maundeville, theChronicle of Matthew Paris, Saint Augustine's City of God, and aBreviary. Dame Lovell has no Breviary, and as she could not read it ifshe had, does not require one; but Margery, having obtained her father'spermission to do so, has employed her powers of writing and illuminatingin making an elaborate copy of his Breviary for her own use; and from anillumination in this book, not quite finished, representing JudasIscariot in parti-coloured stockings, and Saint Peter shooting atMalchus with a cross-bow, is Margery now summoned away to the kitchen.
Margery entered the kitchen with a noiseless step, and making a lowcourtesy to her mother, said, in a remarkably clear, silvery voice, "Itpleased you to send for me, good mother."
"Yea, lass; give a hand to the blanch-porre, for Al'ce knows no morethan my shoe; and then see to the grewall, whilst I scrape these almondsfor the almond butter."
Margery quietly performed her task, and spoke to the mortified Al'ce ina much gentler tone than Dame Lovell had done. She was occupied in thepreparation of "eels in grewall," a kind of eel-stew, when a slenderyouth, a little older than herself, and attired in the usual costume ofa page, entered the kitchen.
"Why, Richard Pynson," cried Dame Lovell, "thou art a speedy messenger,in good sooth. I looked not for thee until evensong."
"I finished mine errand, good mistress," replied the youth, "earlier bymuch than I looked for to do."
"Hast heard any news, Richard?"
"None, mistress mine, unless it be news that a homily will be preachedin Bostock Church on Sunday next ensuing, by a regular of Oxenforde, oneMaster Sastre."
The grewall was standing still, and Margery was listening intently tothe words of Richard Pynson, as he carelessly leaned against the wall.
"Will you go, Mistress Margery?"
Margery looked timidly at her mother. "I would like well to go," saidshe, "an' it might stand with your good pleasur
e."
"Ay, lass, go," replied Dame Lovell, good-naturedly. "It is seldom wehave a homily in Bostock Church. Parson Leggatt is not much given topreaching, meseemeth."
"I will go with you, Master Pynson," said Margery, resuming theconcoction of the dainty dish before her, "with a very good will, for Ishould like greatly to hear the Reverend Father. I never yet heardpreach a scholar of Oxenforde."
Dame Lovell moved away to take the pottage off the fire, and Pynson,approaching Margery, whispered to her, "They say that this Master Sastrepreacheth strange things, like as did Master John Wycliffe a whileagone; howbeit, since Holy Church interfereth not, I trow we may well goto hear him."
Margery's colour rose, and she said in a low voice, "It will do us noharm, trow?"
"I trust not so," answered Richard; and, taking up his hunting-bag, hequitted the room.
"Why, Cicely!" exclaimed Dame Lovell, turning round from the pottage,"had I wist thou hadst put no saffron herein, thou shouldst have hadmine hand about thine ears, lass! Bring the saffron presently! Nosaffron, quotha!"
Before we accompany Margery and Richard to hear the homily of MasterSastre, it might perhaps be as well to prevent any misunderstanding onthe part of the reader with respect to Richard Pynson. He is the pageof Sir Geoffrey Lovell, and the son of Sir John Pynson of Pynsonlee; forin the year 1395, wherein our story opens, it is the custom for younggentlemen, even the sons of peers, to be educated as page or squire tosome neighbouring knight of wealth and respectability. Richard Pynson,therefore, though he may seem to occupy a subordinate position, is inevery respect the equal of Margery.
The morning on which Master Sastre was to deliver his homily was one ofthose delicious spring days which seem the immediate harbingers ofsummer. Margery, in her black dress, and with a warm hood over hercote-hardie, was assisted by her father to mount her pillion, RichardPynson being already seated before her on the grey palfrey; for in thedays of pillions, if the gentleman assisted the lady on her pillion_before_ he mounted himself, he ran imminent risk of knocking her offwhen he should attempt to mount. They rode leisurely to church, thedistance being about two miles, and a little foot-page ran beside themcharged with the care of the palfrey, while they attended the service.Mass was performed by the parish priest, but the scholar from Oxford,who sat in the sedilia, where Margery could scarcely see him, took nopart in the service beyond reading the Gospel.
The sermons of that day, as a rule, may be spoken of in two classes.Either the preacher would read a passage of Scripture in Latin, andthrow in here and there a few remarks by way of commentary, or else thesermon was a long and dry disquisition upon some of the (frequently veryabsurd) dogmas of the schoolmen; such as, whether angels were synonymouswith spirits, which of the seven principal angels was the chief, howlong it took Gabriel to fly from heaven to earth at the Annunciation, atwhat time of day he appeared, how he was dressed, etcetera, Sastre'sdiscourse could not be comprised in either of these classes. He readhis text first, as usual, in Latin, but then he said:
"And now, brethren and sistren, to declare in the vulgar tongue unto youthat have not the tongues, this passage of God's Word as sueth." [Suethmeans follows].
"_The Lombe that was slayn is worthi to take vertue and Godhed andwisdom and strengthe and onour and glorie and blessyng_!"
Note: it will readily be seen that all the quotations from Scripture inthis story are necessarily taken from Wycliffe's translation.
What followed was no scholastic disquisition, no common-place remarks onthe passage chosen. "The Lamb that was slain" was the beginning and theend of Sastre's discourse. He divided his sermon into the followingsubjects. "Who is the Lamb?--how and why was He slain?--why is Heworthy?--and, who are the speakers in the text who thus proclaim Hisworthiness?" He showed them, by a reference to the Mosaic sacrifices,why Christ was called a Lamb; he told them most fully that He died, theJust for the unjust, that He might bring us to God; he placed completelybefore his audience the full and free and finished nature of His perfectwork: he told them that God's love to sinners was such that He gave outof His bosom His own dear Son, the Son of His love, that their sinsmight be counted His, and that His righteousness might be accountedtheirs. And under his last head, he spoke of that holy, happy citywhereinto no sin, nor harm, nor death could ever enter; whosefoundations were gems, and whose gates pearls; the dwelling-place of theblessed ones, who having washed their robes, and made them white in theblood of the Lamb, would never rest day nor night in singing the praisesof His worthiness.
Sastre also drew the attention of his hearers to the fact that theascription of praise in the text was made by the angels. "In all thisBook," remarked he, "I find nowhere such like laud as this given untoany but God only. The blessed angels do worship unto the Lamb, but Isee not any offer for to do worship unto the angels, save only SaintJohn himself, who doth twice fall down to worship afore the feet of theangel which did show these things unto him. But I find not the angel inany wise gladded with the same. Nay, the blessed John doth receive asharp rebuking of his folly: `See thou that thou do not,' saith theangel; `worschipe thou God.' Wherefore, good friends, ye may see hencehow foolish are they who do worship unto the blessed angels: and howgrievous would be the same unto those good spirits of God if they didknowledge it. Whether or no they be witting of such matters, I wis not,for this Book saith nought thereupon; but ye see, friends, that if theywit it, it doth anger them; and if they wit it not, what are ye thebetter for praying unto them? Moreover, meseemeth for the same reason,that the blessed Virgin Saint Mary, who is now in heaven with her Sonand Lord, Christ, would not be in any wise over well pleased if she wisthow men do worship unto her on the earth. And the like, I trow, may besaid of all God's saints."
At the conclusion of his sermon, Sastre leaned forward over the pulpitand spoke in a low, earnest, loving tone. "Who is here, good friends,"asked he, "that loveth this blessed Lord Jesu, the Lamb that was slain?Who is here who will give up this vile and wretched world for His sake?Who that will sue [follow] this blessed Lamb whithersoever He goeth,even though He lead along the sharp way called tribulation, or the wearyway called prison, or the bitter way called poverty, or even verilythrough the low and dark door called death? Who is here? Is there noneI beseech you, good friends, hath Christ no souls in this place? Whenthe blessed angels count up the number of the purchased ones, will yehave them leave Bostock out of their reckoning? Shall it be worse thanSodom and Gomorrah, wherein there was _one_ soul that was saved? Isthere not _one_ here? Nay, brethren, I trust it is not so. I trust yewill come, yea in numbers, yea in throngs, yea in multitudes, and crowdon Christ to touch the hem of His blessed garment, that is the power ofHis great mercy. Christ loveth to have folk crowd on Him to cry Himmercy. I read not that ever He complained of the crowding of themultitude. I read not that ever He turned away so much as one poorcaitiff [sinner] who came unto Him. I read not that His lips plainedever of aught but that they came not--that they lacked faith. I am anold man, friends, and in all likelihood shall I never come here again;but I say unto you that I shall scan well the multitude in the whiteapparel for the faces which be upturned unto me this day. I pray youthat I miss them not. I pray God that ye--yea, that every man and womanof you, may be clothed in yon glistering and shene [bright] raiment, andmay lift up your voices to cry, `The Lamb is worthy' in the city ofGod!"
That sermon was a strange thing to Margery Lovell. Never, from the dayof her birth to that day, had she heard as she now heard of the Lambthat was slain. For above a mile of their way home Richard and Margerykept perfect silence, which the latter was the first to break justbefore they came in sight of Lovell Tower.
"Master Pynson, we have heard strange things to-day."
"We have, of a truth, Mistress Margery. I wonder whether Master Sastrebe right."
"I wish greatly," replied Margery, "that I could get the book wherein Ihave heard that Master Wycliffe rendered God's Word into the vulgartongue. I could see then whether M
aster Sastre were right. I would Iknew of any man who had that book!"
"Master Carew of Marston told me some time agone," said Richard, ratherhesitatingly, "that he had the Gospel according to John the Apostle,copied out by a feat [clever] scribe from Master Wycliffe's renderingthereof."
"O Master Pynson!" said Margery, entreatingly, "I pray you that you askgood Master Carew to lend me that book! Tell him that Mistress MargeryLovell will lay her best jewels to pledge that she returneth the booksafe. I must see that book Master Pynson!"
"Softly, I pray you, good Mistress Margery," answered Richard, smiling;"it were well to go warily to work; for wot you not that MasterWycliffe--ay, and Master Sastre too--be accounted heretics by some? Youwould not, trow, fall under the ban of Holy Church?"
"I would with a good will do aught, or bear aught," replied Margery,earnestly, "so I might wit of a surety that I should be one of those whowear the white apparel, and cry, `The Lamb is worthy' in the city ofGod!"
"Well, Mistress Margery," said Richard, soothingly, "I will do my bestfor to get you the book, but it may be some time ere I see MasterCarew."
Dame Lovell herself was standing on the steps of Lovell Tower,apparently looking out for the riders, for as soon as they came withinhearing distance she raised her voice to say, "Richard Pynson! SirGeoffrey would speak with you. Come in quickly, I pray you, and leavethe handmaidens to help Mistress Margery from her pillion."
"I need no help, good mother," said Margery, as she sprang lightly fromher seat, while Richard hurried into the house to find Sir Geoffrey.
"Sir Geoffrey would send Richard Pynson to Marston," said Dame Lovell,as she preceded Margery into the hall. "And how liked you MasterSastre, Madge?"
"Very greatly, good mother; never heard I before a homily so brave."
"That is well," said Dame Lovell, and disappeared into the kitchen, asMargery ran up-stairs to her own room, and brought down in her hand avaluable necklace. Richard came into the banqueting-hall from one door,as Margery made her appearance from the opposite one.
"I have a letter from Sir Geoffrey to bear to Sir Ralph Marston," saidhe. "Have you any commands for Marston, Mistress Margery?" hemischievously added.
"Master Pynson," said Margery, earnestly, in a low tone, "I pray you totake this jewel to Master Carew, and to leave it in pledge with him, incase he will lend me the book. If he value it at more than this, I cansend other jewels; but, Master Pynson, bring me the book!"
Richard placed the necklace for safety in the bosom of his doublet, andanswered, "Fear not, good mistress; if I bring you not the book, itshall not be for lack of entreaty. Only hope not too much, for I maychance to fail."
"Pray God he lend you the book!" was her only answer.
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Note. The Sangraal was the vessel in which the wine was contained whichChrist gave to His disciples, saying, "Drink ye all of this;" thisvessel was supposed to have been brought into England by Joseph ofArimathea; and the "quest" or search for this important relic formed oneof the chief adventures of the Knights of the Round Table.