Part 6 (1/2)
”He's got his match, and she's got hern.”
”They are well matched, then,” said Bertha, laughing.
”They're a pair,” said Dan, grimly. ”He's eagre, and she's mustard; and they'll none mix ill--but they'll set folks' throats a-fire as meddles wi' 'em.”
Eagre is the old English word for vinegar, which is just ”wine-eagre.”
It means anything sharp and acid.
”Is Aunt Filomena pleased?” asked Avice.
”She's never pleased wi' nothing,” was the reply of her unfortunate husband. ”She give him lots o' sauce when he first come, and he's had another spoonful every time since. He gives it her every bit as hot--I will say that for him. His mother went by name o' old Maud Touchup, and he doth her no disfavour. She knew how to hit folks--_she_ did. And Michael's a chip o' th' old block.”
”A little more cabbage, Uncle Dan?”
”Nay, I thank thee. I must be going home, I reckon. Eh, but you're peaceable here! I reckon man could sleep i' this house, and not be waked up wi' jarring and jangling. I tell thee what, Avice--when the big folks up to London town runs short o' money, I wonder they don't clap a bit of a tax on women's tongues! It'd bring 'em in a tunful in a week, _that_ would.”
”How would you collect it, Uncle Dan?”
”Nay, there thou floors me. They'd best send down a chap all over steel to th' smithy, He'd get plucked o' pieces else. Well, G.o.d be wi' thee, Avice. G.o.d bless thee, Bertha, my la.s.s. Good-night!”
And Uncle Dan disappeared into the darkness. There were no street lamps then. Every man had to carry his own lantern, unless he chose to run the risk of breaking his neck over the round stones which formed the streets, or the rough ground, interspersed with holes and pits, to be found everywhere else.
They now sat down to work for the rest of the evening, Avice on the settle in the corner, Bertha on one of the low stools which she brought up to the hearth.
”Lack-a-day! what have I forgot!” said Avice as Bertha drew up her stool and unfolded the ap.r.o.n she was making. ”I thought to have asked Nora Goldhue for a sprig of betony, or else purslane. 'Tis o'er late to-night, and verily I am too weary to go forth again.”
”Have you bad dreams, Aunt?” asked Bertha, knowing that a sprig of either of those herbs under the pillow was believed to drive them away.
”Ay, child; they have troubled me these four nights past, but last night more especially.”
No wonder, after a supper on franche-mule! But it never occurred to ignorant Avice that supper and dreams could have anything to do with one another.
”Shall I fetch you a laurel leaf, Aunt?” suggested Bertha.
”Ay, do, child; maybe that shall change the luck. Best go ere it rain, too; and that will not be long, for I saw a black snail in the channel as we came in.”
Bertha tied on her hood, and ran out to the house of the next-door neighbour, who had a laurel in her garden, to beg a few of its leaves, which were supposed to bring pleasant dreams. Having placed these under her aunt's bolster, she sat down again to her work, and Avice resumed her interrupted story.
”It was in July, 1254, when our little Lady was but eight months old, that the Lady Queen set forth to join the Lord King in Gascony. There were many s.h.i.+ps taken up for her voyage, amongst which were the _Savoy_, the _Falcon_, and the _Baroness_, that was my Lord of Leicester's s.h.i.+p.
In the s.h.i.+p wherein the Lady Queen sailed, was built a special chamber for her, of polished wood, for the which three hundred planks were sent from the forest to Portsmouth. But so short was she of money, that she was compelled to bid the Treasurer to send her all the cups and basins which the King had of silver, and all gold in coin or leaf that could be found in the treasuries. Moreover, the Jews throughout England were distrained for five thousand marks, for the ransom of their bodies, and their wives and little ones, and by sale of their lands and houses. The Lady Queen took with her divers pieces of English cloth for the Lord King, seeing that French cloth is not nigh so good. Some things also she commanded for the children, who were to tarry at Windsor during her absence. Twenty-four silver spoons were made, and fifty wild animals taken for their provision in the park at Guildford. Robes were served out, furred with hare's fur, for Edmund the King's son and Henry de Lacy; four robes for the gentlewomen that had the care of the children; and for Richard the chaplain, Master Simon de Wyc.u.mb the keeper, and Master G.o.dwyn the cook: these were of sendal. And there were robes furred with lamb for the King's wards, and for John the Varlet, and Julian the Rocker, and my mother, and me thine aunt.” [See Note 1.]
Both to Avice and Bertha it seemed quite a matter of course that the Jews should find the money when the King wanted silk, or the King's children silver spoons.
”But it seems to me, Aunt,” suggested Bertha, ”that the Lady Queen must have spent all her money before she started.”
”Oh no! the money was for the Lord King. In truth, I know not whether she paid for the other things. But I did hear that as soon as the Lord King knew she would come, and that she was bringing with her so much money and plate, he began to spend with both hands on his side of the sea. He sent at once for six cloths of gold that the Queen and Lord Edward might offer in the churches of Bordeaux when they should arrive there; he commanded to be made ready a fair jewel for Saint Edward the Martyr, and a hundred pounds of jewels for Saint Edward the King, and divers more for Saint Thomas of Canterbury, all which were offered when he and the Queen returned home in December. There came in also, for the King's coming back, many frails of figs, raisins, dates, cinnamon, saffron, pepper, ginger, and such like; I remember seeing them unpacked in Antioch Chamber, the little chamber by the garden.”
”And what did it all cost, Aunt?”