CHAPTER FIVE.
THE DRAGON COURT.
"A citizen Of credit and renown A trainband captain eke was he Of famous London town." Cowper.
In spite of his satisfaction at the honourable obsequies of his dog,Stephen Birkenholt would fain have been independent, and thought itprovoking and strange that every one should want to direct hismovements, and assume the charge of one so well able to take care ofhimself; but he could not escape as he had done before from the Wardenof Saint Elizabeth, for Ambrose had readily accepted the proposal thatthey should travel in Master Headley's company, only objecting that theywere on foot; on which the good citizen hired a couple of hackneys forthem.
Besides the two Giles Headleys, the party consisted of Tibble, thescarred and withered foreman, two grooms, and two serving-men, all armedwith the swords and bucklers of which they had made so little use. Itappeared in process of time that the two namesakes, besides beinggodfather and godson, were cousins, and that Robert, the father of theyounger one, had, after his apprenticeship in the paternal establishmentat Salisbury, served for a couple of years in the London workshop of hiskinsman to learn the latest improvements in weapons. This had laid thefoundation of a friendship which had lasted through life, though theLondon cousin had been as prosperous as the country one had been thereverse. The provincial trade in arms declined with the close of theYork and Lancaster wars. Men were not permitted to turn from onehandicraft to another, and Robert Headley had neither aptitude norresources. His wife was vain and thriftless, and he finally broke downunder his difficulties, appointing by will his cousin to act as hisexecutor, and to take charge of his only son, who had served out halfhis time as apprentice to himself. There had been delay until the peacewith France had given the armourer some leisure for an expedition toSalisbury, a serious undertaking for a London burgess, who had littleabout him of the ancient northern weapon-smith, and had wanted to availhimself of the protection of the suite of the Bishop of Salisbury,returning from Parliament. He had spent some weeks in disposing of hiscousin's stock in trade, which was far too antiquated for the Londonmarket; also of the premises, which were bought by an adjoining conventto extend its garden; and he had divided the proceeds between the widowand children. He had presided at the wedding of the last daughter, withwhom the mother was to reside, and was on his way back to London withhis godson, who had now become his apprentice.
Giles Headley the younger was a fine tall youth, but clumsy anduntrained in the use of his limbs, and he rode a large, powerful brownhorse, which brooked no companionship, lashing out with its shaggy hoofsat any of its kind that approached it, more especially at poor, plump,mottled Poppet. The men said he had insisted on retaining that, and noother, for his journey to London, contrary to all advice, and he wasobliged to ride foremost, alone in the middle of the road; while MasterHeadley seemed to have an immense quantity of consultation to carry onwith his foreman, Tibble, whose quiet-looking brown animal was evidentlyon the best of terms with Poppet. By daylight Tibble looked even moresallow, lean, and sickly, and Stephen could not help saying to theserving-man nearest to him, "Can such a weakling verily be an armourer?"
"Yea, sir. Wry-mouthed Tibble, as they call him, was a sturdy fellowtill he got a fall against the mouth of a furnace, and lay ten months inSaint Bartholomew's Spital, scarce moving hand or foot. He cannot wielda hammer, but he has a cunning hand for gilding, and coloured devices,and is as good as Garter-king-at-arms himself for all bearings ofknights and nobles."
"As we heard last night," said Stephen.
"Moreover in the spital he learnt to write and cast accompts like a veryscrivener, and the master trusts him more than any, except maybe KitSmallbones, the head smith."
"What will Smallbones think of the new prentice!" said one of the othermen.
"Prentice! 'Tis plain enough what sort of prentice the youth is like tobe who beareth the name of a master with one only daughter."
An emphatic grunt was the only answer, while Ambrose pondered on thegood luck of some people, who had their futures cut out for them with notrouble on their own part.
This day's ride was through more inhabited parts, and was esteemed lessperilous. They came in sight of the Thames at Lambeth, but MasterHeadley, remembering how ill his beloved Poppet had brooked the ferry,decided to keep to the south of the river by a causeway across Lambethmarsh, which was just passable in high and dry summers, and whichconducted them to a raised road called Bankside, where they lookedacross to the towers of Westminster, and the Abbey in its beauty dawnedon the imagination of Stephen and Ambrose. The royal standard floatedover the palace, whence Master Headley perceived that the King wasthere, and augured that my Lord of York's meine would not be far toseek. Then came broad green fields with young corn growing, or haywaving for the scythe, the tents and booths of May Fair, and thebeautiful Market Cross in the midst of the village of Charing, while theStrand, immediately opposite, began to be fringed with great monasterieswithin their ample gardens, with here and there a nobleman's castellatedhouse and terraced garden, with broad stone stairs leading to theThames.
Barges and wherries plied up and down, the former often gaily canopiedand propelled by livened oarsmen, all plying their arms in unison, sothat the vessel looked like some brilliant many-limbed creature treadingthe water. Presently appeared the heavy walls inclosing the Cityitself, dominated by the tall openwork timber spire of Saint Paul's,with the four-square, four-turreted Tower acting, as it has been wellsaid, as a padlock to a chain, and the river's breadth spanned by Londonbridge, a very street of houses built on the abutments. Now, Banksidehad houses on each side of the road, and Wry-mouthed Tibble showedevident satisfaction when they turned to cross the bridge, where theyhad to ride in single file, not without some refractoriness on the partof young Headley's steed.
On they went, now along streets where each story of the tall housesprojected over the last, so that the gables seemed ready to meet; nowbeside walls of convent gardens, now past churches, while the countrylads felt bewildered with the numbers passing to and fro, and the airwas full of bells.
Cap after cap was lifted in greeting to Master Headley by burgess,artisan, or apprentice, and many times did he draw Poppet's rein toexchange greetings and receive congratulations on his return. Onreaching Saint Paul's Minster, he halted and bade the servants take homethe horses, and tell the mistress, with his dutiful greetings, that heshould be at home anon, and with guests.
"We must een return thanks for our safe journey and great deliverance,"he said to his young companions, and thrusting his arm into that of arusset-vested citizen, who met him at the door, he walked into thecathedral, recounting his adventure.
The youths followed with some difficulty through the stream of loiterersin the nave, Giles the younger elbowing and pushing so that several ofthe crowd turned to look at him, and it was well that his kinsman soonastonished him by descending a stair into a crypt, with solid, short,clustered columns, and high-pitched vaulting, fitted up as a separatechurch, namely that of the parish of Saint Faith. The great cathedral,having absorbed the site of the original church, had given this crypt tothe parishioners. Here all was quiet and solemn, in marked contrast tothe hubbub in "Paul's Walk," above in the nave. Against the easternpillar of one of the bays was a little altar, and the decorationsincluded Saint Julian, the patron of travellers, with his saltire doublycrossed, and his stag beside him. Little ships, trees, and wonderfulenamelled representations of perils by robbers, field and flood, hungthickly on Saint Julian's pillar, and on the wall and splay of thewindow beside it; and here, after crossing himself, Master Headleyrapidly repeated a Paternoster, and ratified his vow of presenting abronze image of the hound to whom he owed his rescue. One of the clergycame up to register the vow, and the good armourer proceeded to bespeaka mass of thanksgiving on the next morning, also ten for the soul ofMaster John Birkenholt, late Verdurer of the New Forest in Hampshire--amode of showing his gratitude which the two sons highly appreciated.
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Then, climbing up the steps again, and emerging from the cathedral bythe west door, the boys beheld a scene for which their experiences ofRomsey, and even of Winchester, had by no means prepared them. It wasfive o'clock on a summer evening, so that the whole place was full ofstir. Old women sat with baskets of rosaries and little crosses, orimages of saints, on the steps of the cathedral, while in the open spacebeyond, more than one horse was displaying his paces for the benefit; ofsome undecided purchaser, who had been chaffering for hours in Paul'sWalk. Merchants in the costume of their countries, Lombard, Spanish,Dutch, or French, were walking away in pairs, attended by servants, fromtheir Exchange, likewise in the nave. Women, some alone, some protectedby serving-men or apprentices, were returning from their orisons, or, itmight be, from their gossipings. Priests and friars, as usual, pervadedeverything, and round the open space were galleried buildings withstalls beneath them, whence the holders were removing their wares forthe night. The great octagonal structure of Paul's Cross stood in thecentre, and just beneath the stone pulpit, where the sermons were wontto be preached, stood a man with a throng round him, declaiming a balladat the top of his sing-song voice, and causing much loud laughter bysome ribaldry about monks and friars.
Master Headley turned aside as quickly as he could, through PaternosterRow, which was full of stalls, where little black books, and largersheets printed in black, letter, seemed the staple commodities, andthence the burgess, keeping a heedful eye on his young companions amongall his greetings, entered the broader space of Cheapside, wherenumerous prentice lads seemed to be playing at different sports afterthe labours of the day.
Passing under an archway surmounted by a dragon with shining scales,Master Headley entered a paved courtyard, where the lads started at thefigures of two knights in full armour, their lances in rest, and theirhorses with housings down to their hoofs, apparently about to charge anyintruder. But at that moment there was a shriek of joy, and out fromthe scarlet and azure petticoats of the nearest steed, there darted alittle girl, crying, "Father! father!" and in an instant she was liftedin Master Headley's arms, and was clinging round his neck, while hekissed and blessed her, and as he set her on her feet, he said, "Here,Dennet, greet thy cousin Giles Headley, and these two brave younggentlemen. Greet them like a courteous maiden, or they will think theea little town mouse."
In truth the child had a pointed little visage, and bright brown eyes,somewhat like a mouse, but it was a very sweet face that she liftedobediently to be kissed not only by the kinsman, but by the two guests.Her father meantime was answering with nods to the respectful welcomesof the workmen, who thronged out below, and their wives looking downfrom the galleries above; while Poppet and the other horses were beingrubbed down after their journey.
The ground-floor of the buildings surrounding the oblong court seemed tobe entirely occupied by forges, workshops, warehouses and stables.Above, were open railed galleries, with outside stairs at intervals,giving access to the habitations of the workpeople on three sides. Thefourth, opposite to the entrance, had a much handsomer, broad, stonestair, adorned on one side with a stone figure of the princess fleeingfrom the dragon, and on the other of Saint George piercing the monster'sopen mouth with his lance, the scaly convolutions of the two dragonsforming the supports of the handrail on either side. Here stood, cap inhand, showing his thick curly hair, and with open front, displaying ahuge hairy chest, a giant figure, whom his master greeted as KitSmallbones, inquiring whether all had gone well during his absence.
"'Tis time you were back, sir, for there's a great tilting-match on handfor the Lady Mary's wedding. Here have been half the gentlemen in theCourt after you, and my Lord of Buckingham sent twice for you sinceSunday, and once for Tibble Steelman, and his squire swore that if youwere not at his bidding before noon to-morrow, he would have his newsuit of Master Hillyer of the Eagle."
"He shall see me when it suiteth me," said Mr Headley coolly. "Hewotteth well that Hillyer hath none who can burnish plate armour likeTibble here."
"Moreover the last iron we had from that knave Mepham is nought. Itworks short under the hammer."
"That shall be seen to, Kit. The rest of the budget to-morrow. I muston to my mother."
For at the doorway, at the head of the stairs, there stood the stilltrim and active figure of an old woman, with something of the mouselikeness seen in her grand-daughter, in the close cap, high hat, andcloth dress, that sumptuary opinion, if not law, prescribed for theburgher matron, a white apron, silver chain and bunch of keys at hergirdle. Due and loving greetings passed between mother and son, afterthe longest and most perilous absence of Master Headley's life, and hethen presented Giles, to whom the kindly dame offered hand and cheek,saying, "Welcome, my young kinsman, your good father was well known andliked here. May you tread in his steps!"
"Thanks, good mistress," returned Giles. "I am thought to have a prettytaste in the fancy part of the trade. My Lord of Montagu--"
Before he could get any farther, Mistress Headley was inquiring what wasthe rumour she had heard of robbers and dangers that had beset her son,and he was presenting the two young Birkenholts to her. "Brave boys!good boys," she said, holding out her hands and kissing each accordingto the custom of welcome, "you have saved my son for me, and this littleone's father for her. Kiss them, Dennet, and thank them."
"It was the poor dog," said the child, in a clear little voice, drawingback with a certain quaint coquetting shyness; "I would rather kisshim."
"Would that thou couldst, little mistress," said Stephen. "My poorbrave Spring!"
"Was he thine own? Tell me all about him," said Dennet, somewhatimperiously.
She stood between the two strangers looking eagerly in with sorrowfullyinterested eyes, while Stephen, out of his full heart, told of hisfaithful comradeship with his hound from the infancy of both. Herfather meanwhile was exchanging serious converse with her grandmother,and Giles finding himself left in the background, began: "Come hither,pretty coz, and I will tell thee of my Lady of Salisbury's dainty littlehounds."
"I care not for dainty little hounds," returned Dennet; "I want to hearof the poor faithful dog that flew at the wicked robber."
"A mighty stir about a mere chance," muttered Giles.
"I know what _you_ did," said Dennet, turning her bright brown eyes fullupon him. "You took to your heels."
Her look and little nod were so irresistibly comical that the twobrothers could not help laughing; whereupon Giles Headley turned uponthem in a passion.
"What mean ye by this insolence, you beggars' brats picked up on theheath?"
"Better born than thou, braggart and coward that thou art!" broke forthStephen, while Master Headley exclaimed, "How now, lads? No brawlinghere!"
Three voices spoke at once.
"They were insolent."
"He reviled our birth."
"Father! they did but laugh when I told cousin Giles that he took to hisheels, and he must needs call them beggars' brats picked up on theheath."
"Ha! ha! wench, thou art woman enough already to set them together bythe ears," said her father, laughing. "See here, Giles Headley, nonewho bears my name shall insult a stranger on my hearth."
Stephen however had stepped forth holding out his small stock of coin,and saying, "Sir, receive for our charges, and let us go to the tavernwe passed anon."
"How now, boy! Said I not ye were my guests?"
"Yea, sir, and thanks; but we can give no cause for being called beggarsnor beggars' brats."
"What beggary is there in being guests, my young gentlemen?" said themaster of the house. "If any one were picked up on the heath, it was I.We owned you for gentlemen of blood and coat armour, and thy brotherthere can tell thee that ye have no right to put an affront on me, yourhost, because a rude prentice from a country town hath not learnt torule his tongue."
Giles scowled, but the armourer spoke with an authority that imposed onall, and Stephen submitted, while Ambrose spoke a few word
s of thanks,after which the two brothers were conducted by an external stair andgallery to a guest-chamber, in which to prepare for supper.
The room was small, but luxuriously filled beyond all ideas of the youngforesters, for it was hung with tapestry, representing the history ofJoseph; the bed was curtained, there was a carved chest for clothes, atable and a ewer and basin of bright brass with the armourer's mark uponit, a twist in which the letter H and the dragon's tongue and tail wereingeniously blended. The City was far in advance of the country in allthe arts of life, and only the more magnificent castles and abbeys,which the boys had never seen, possessed the amount of comforts to befound in the dwellings of the superior class of Londoners. Stephen wasinclined to look with contempt upon the effeminacy of a churl merchant.
"No churl," returned Ambrose, "if manners makyth man, as we saw atWinchester."
"Then what do they make of that cowardly clown, his cousin?"
Ambrose laughed, but said, "Prove we our gentle blood at least by notbrawling with the fellow. Master Headley will soon teach him to knowhis place."
"That will matter nought to us. To-morrow shall we be with our uncleHal. I only wish his lord was not of the ghostly sort, but perhaps hemay prefer me to some great knight's service. But oh! Ambrose, comeand look. See! The fellow they call Smallbones is come out to thefountain in the middle of the court with a bucket in each hand. Look!Didst ever see such a giant? He is as big and brawny as Ascapart at thebar-gate at Southampton. See! he lifts that big pail full and brimmingas though it were an egg shell. See his arm! 'Twere good to see himwield a hammer! I must look into his smithy before going forth to-morrow."
Stephen clenched his fist and examined his muscles ere donning his bestmourning jerkin, and could scarce be persuaded to complete his toilet,so much was he entertained with the comings and goings in the court, alittle world in itself, like a college quadrangle. The day's work wasover, the forges out, and the smiths were lounging about at ease, one ortwo sitting on a bench under a large elm-tree beside the central well,enjoying each his tankard of ale. A few more were watching Poppet beingcombed down, and conversing with the newly-arrived grooms. One wascarrying a little child in his arms, and a young man and maid sitting onthe low wall round the well, seemed to be carrying on a courtship overthe pitcher that stood waiting to be filled. Two lads were playing atskittles, children were running up and down the stairs and along thewooden galleries, and men and women went and came by the entrancegateway between the two effigies of knights in armour. Some wereservants bringing helm or gauntlet for repair, or taking the like away.Some might be known by their flat caps to be apprentices, and twosubstantial burgesses walked in together, as if to greet Master Headleyon his return. Immediately after, a man-cook appeared with white capand apron, bearing aloft a covered dish surrounded by a steamy cloud,followed by other servants bearing other meats; a big bell began tosound, the younger men and apprentices gathered together and thebrothers descended the stairs, and entered by the big door into the samelarge hall where they had been received. The spacious hearth was fullof green boughs, with a beaupot of wild rose, honeysuckle, clove pinksand gilliflowers; the lower parts of the walls were hung with tapestryrepresenting the adventures of Saint George; the mullioned windows hadtheir upper squares filled with glass, bearing the shield of the City ofLondon, that of the Armourers' Company, the rose and portcullis of theKing, the pomegranate of Queen Catharine, and other like devices.Others, belonging to the Lancastrian kings, adorned the pendants fromthe handsome open roof and the front of a gallery for musicians whichcrossed one end of the hall in the taste of the times of Henry the Fifthand Whittington.
Far more interesting to the hungry travellers was it that the longtable, running the whole breadth of the apartment, was decked with snowylinen, trenchers stood ready with horns or tankards beside them, andloaves of bread at intervals, while the dishes were being placed on thetable. The master and his entire establishment took their mealstogether, except the married men, who lived in the quadrangle with theirfamilies. There was no division by the salt-cellar, as at the tables ofthe nobles and gentry, but the master, his family and guests, occupiedthe centre, with the hearth behind them, where the choicest of theviands were placed; next after them were the places of the journeymenaccording to seniority, then those of the apprentices, householdservants, and stable-men, but the apprentices had to assist the serving-men in waiting on the master and his party before sitting downthemselves. There was a dignity and regularity about the whole, whichcould not fail to impress Stephen and Ambrose with the weight andimportance of a London burgher, warden of the Armourers' Company, andalderman of the Ward of Cheap. There were carved chairs for himself,his mother, and the guests, also a small Persian carpet extending fromthe hearth beyond their seats. This article filled the two foresterswith amazement. To put one's feet on what ought to be a coverlet! Theywould not have stepped on it, had they not been kindly summoned by oldMistress Headley to take their places among the company, whichconsisted, besides the family, of the two citizens who had entered, andof a priest who had likewise dropped in to welcome Master Headley'sreturn, and had been invited to stay to supper. Young Giles, as amatter of course, placed himself amongst them, at which there were blacklooks and whispers among the apprentices, and even Mistress Headley worean air of amazement.
"Mother," said the head of the family, speaking loud enough for all tohear, "you will permit our young kinsman to be placed as our guest thisevening. To-morrow he will act as an apprentice, as we all have done inour time."
"I never did so at home!" cried Giles, in his loud, hasty voice.
"I trow not," dryly observed one of the guests.
Giles, however, went on muttering while the priest was pronouncing aLatin grace, and thereupon the same burgess observed, "never did I seeit better proved that folk in the country give their sons no goodbreeding."
"Have patience with him, good Master Pepper," returned Mr Headley. "Hehath been an only son, greatly cockered by father, mother, and sisters,but ere long he will learn what is befitting."
Giles glared round, but he met nothing encouraging. Little Dennet satwith open mouth of astonishment, her grandmother looked shocked, thehousehold which had been aggrieved by his presumption laughed at hisrebuke, for there was not much delicacy in those days; but somethinggenerous in the gentle blood of Ambrose moved him to some amount of pityfor the lad, who thus suddenly became conscious that the tie he hadthought nominal at Salisbury, a mere preliminary to municipal rank, washere absolute subjection, and a bondage whence there was no escape. Hiswas the only face that Giles met which had any friendliness in it, butno one spoke, for manners imposed silence upon youth at table, exceptwhen spoken to; and there was general hunger enough prevailing to makeMistress Headley's fat capon the most interesting contemplation for thepresent.
The elders conversed, for there was much for Master Headley to hear ofcivic affairs that had passed in his absence of two months, also of allthe comings and goings, and it was ascertained that my Lord Archbishopof York was at his suburban abode, York House, now Whitehall.
It was a very late supper for the times, not beginning till seveno'clock, on account of the travellers; and as soon as it was finished,and the priest and burghers had taken their leave, Master Headleydismissed the household to their beds, although daylight was scarcelydeparted.