Part 27 (1/2)
”_Ha, chetife_!” said Father Jordan. ”The saints forgive me my sins!
Never a bit of wax had I lacked for many a month, and I gave the last to Richard, butler.”
”Hath he used it all?” asked Matthew.
”Be sure he so did. He should have some left only if none needed it,”
responded his brother.
A search was inst.i.tuted. The butler regretfully admitted that all the wax supplied, to him was fastening down corks upon bottles of Alicant and Osey. Sir G.o.dfrey had none; he had sent for some, but had not yet received it. Everybody was rather ashamed; for wax was a very necessary article in a mediaeval household, and to run short of it was a small disgrace. In this emergency Matthew, usually the person of resources, came to the rescue.
”Hie thee to the cellar, d.i.c.k, and bring me up a two-three bottles of thy meanest wine,” said he. ”We'll melt it off the corks.”
By this ingenious means, sufficient wax was procured to take the impress of the Archbishop's official seal, without which the letter would bear no authentication, and the recipient could not be blamed if she refused obedience. It was then addressed--”To the hands of our very dear Lady, the Lady Joan Ba.s.set, at Drayton Manor, in the county of Stafford, be these delivered with speed. Haste, haste, for thy life, haste!”
All n.o.bles and dignitaries of the Church in 1374 used the ”we” now exclusively regal.
Having finished his preparations, the Archbishop despatched young G.o.dfrey to ask his father for a private interview. Sir G.o.dfrey at once returned to the hall, and ceremoniously handed the Archbishop into his own room.
All large houses, in those days, contained a hall, which was the general meeting-place of the inhabitants, and where the family, servants, and guests, all took their meals together. This usually ran two storeys high; and into it opened from the lower storey the offices and guard-chambers, and from the upper, into a gallery running round it, the private apartments of the family, a spiral stair frequently winding down in the corner. The rooms next the hall were private sitting-rooms, leading to the bedchambers beyond; and where still greater secrecy was desired, pa.s.sages led out towards separate towers. Every bedroom had its adjoining sitting-room. Of course in small houses such elaborate arrangements as these were not found, and there were no sitting-rooms except the hall itself; while labourers were content with a two-roomed house, the lower half serving as parlour and kitchen, the upper as the family bedchamber.
Young G.o.dfrey carried a chair to his father's room. An Archbishop could not sit on a form, and there were only three chairs in the house, two of which were appropriated to the Countess. The prelate took his seat, and laid down his letter on a high stool before Sir G.o.dfrey.
”Fair Sir, may I entreat you of your courtesy, to send this letter with all good speed to my Lady Ba.s.set of Drayton, unto Staffords.h.i.+re?”
”Is it needful, holy Father?”
”It is in sooth needful,” replied the Archbishop, in rather peremptory tones, for he plainly saw that Sir G.o.dfrey would not do this part of his duty until he could no longer help it.
”It shall put her Ladys.h.i.+p to great charges,” objected the knight.
”The which, if she defray unwillingly, then is she no Christian woman.”
”And be a journey mighty displeasant, at this winter season.”
”My answer thereto is as to the last.”
”And it shall blurt out the King's privy matters.”
”In no wise. I have not writ thereof a word in this letter, but have only prayed her Ladys.h.i.+p to give heed unto that which the bearer thereof shall make known to her privily.”
”Then who is to bear the same?”
”I refer me thereon, fair Sir, to your good judgment. Might one of your own sons be trusted herewith?”
Sir G.o.dfrey looked dubious. ”G.o.dfrey should turn aside to see an horse, or to tilt at any jousting that lay in his path; and Matthew, I cast no doubt, should lose your Grace's letter in a snowdrift.”
”Then have you brought them up but ill,” said the Archbishop. ”But what hindereth that you go withal yourself?”
”I, holy Father! I am an old man, and infirm, an' it like your Grace.”
”Ay, you were full infirm when the tilting was at Leicester,” replied the Archbishop, ironically. ”My son, I enjoin thee, as thine Archbishop, that thou send this letter. Go, or send a trusty messenger, as it liketh thee best; and if thou have no such, then shall my secretary, Father Denny, carry the same, for he is full meet therefor; but go it must.”