CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
A LONDON HOLIDAY.
"Up then spoke the apprentices tall Living in London, one and all." _Old Ballad_.
Another of the many holidays of the Londoners was enjoyed on theoccasion of the installation of Thomas Wolsey as Cardinal of SaintCecilia, and Papal Legate.
A whole assembly of prelates and "lusty gallant gentlemen" rode out toBlackheath to meet the Roman envoy, who, robed in full splendour, withSaint Peter's keys embroidered on back and breast and on the housings ofhis mule, appeared at the head of a gallant train in the papal liveries,two of whom carried the gilded pillars, the insignia of office, and twomore, a scarlet and gold-covered box or casket containing the Cardinal'shat. Probably no such reception of the dignity was ever preparedelsewhere, and all was calculated to give magnificent ideas of theoffice of Cardinal and of the power of the Pope to those who had notbeen let into the secret that the messenger had been met at Dover; andthus magnificently fitted out to satisfy the requirements of thebutcher's son of Ipswich, and of one of the most ostentatious of courts.
Old Gaffer Martin Fulford had muttered in his bed that such pomp had notbeen the way in the time of the true old royal blood, and that displayhad come in with the upstart slips of the Red Rose--as he still chose tostyle the Tudors; and he maundered away about the beauty and affabilityof Edward the Fourth till nobody could understand him, and Perronel onlythrew in her "ay, grandad," or "yea, gaffer," when she thought it wasexpected of her.
Ambrose had an unfailing appetite for the sermons of Dean Colet, who wasto preach on this occasion in Westminster Abbey, and his uncle had givenhim counsel how to obtain standing ground there, entering before theprocession. He was alone, his friends Tibble and Lucas both had thatpart of the Lollard temper which loathed the pride and wealth of thegreat political clergy, and in spite of their admiration for the Deanthey could not quite forgive his taking part in the pomp of such araree-show.
But Ambrose's devotion to the Dean, to say nothing of youthfulcuriosity, outweighed all those scruples, and as he listened, he wascarried along by the curious sermon in which the preacher likened theorders of the hierarchy below to that of the nine orders of the Angels,making the rank of Cardinal correspond to that of the Seraphim, aglowwith love. Of that holy flame, the scarlet robes were the type to thespiritualised mind of Colet, while others saw in them only the relic ofthe imperial purple of old Rome; and some beheld them as the token thatWolsey was one step nearer the supreme height that he coveted soearnestly. But the great and successful man found himself personallyaddressed, bidden not to be puffed up with his own greatness, andstringently reminded of the highest example of humility, shown that hethat exalteth himself shall be abased, and he that humbleth himself beexalted. The preacher concluded with a strong personal exhortation todo righteousness and justice alike to rich and poor, joined with truthand mercy, setting God always before him.
The sermon ended, Wolsey knelt at the altar, and Archbishop Wareham,who, like his immediate predecessors, held legatine authority, performedthe act of investiture, placing the scarlet hat with its many loops andtassels on his brother primate's head, after which a magnificent _TeDeum_ rang through the beautiful church, and the procession of prelates,peers, and ecclesiastics of all ranks in their richest array formed toescort the new Cardinal to banquet at his palace with the King andQueen.
Ambrose, stationed by a column, let the throng rush, tumble, and jostleone another to behold the show, till the Abbey was nearly empty, whilehe tried to work out the perplexing question whether all this pomp andsplendour were truly for the glory of God, or whether it were a delusionfor the temptation of men's souls. It was a debate on which his old andhis new guides seemed to him at issue, and he was drawn in bothdirections--now by the beauty, order, and deep symbolism of the Catholicritual, now by the spirituality and earnestness of the men among whom helived. At one moment the worldly pomp, the mechanical and irreverentworship, and the gross and vicious habits of many of the clergy repelledhim; at another the reverence and conservatism of his nature held himfast.
Presently he felt a hand on his shoulder, and started, "Lost in a stud,as we say at home, boy," said the jester, resplendent in a bran newmotley suit. "Wilt come in to the banquet? 'Tis open house, and I canfind thee a seat without disclosing the kinship that sits so sore on thybrother. Where is he?"
"I have not seen him this day."
"That did I," returned Randall, "as I rode by on mine ass. He wasruffling it so lustily that I could not but give him a wink, the whichmy gentleman could by no means stomach! Poor lad! Yet there be times,Ambrose, when I feel in sooth that mine office is the only honourableone, since who besides can speak truth? I love my lord; he is a kind,open-handed master, and there's none I would so willingly serve, whetherby jest or earnest, but what is he but that which I oft call him injoke--the greater fool than I, selling peace and ease, truth and hope,this life and the next, for yonder scarlet hat, which is after all of nomore worth than this jingling head-gear of mine."
"Deafening the spiritual ears far more, it may be," said Ambrose, "since_humiles exaltaverint_."
It was no small shock that there, in the midst of the nave, the answerwas a bound, like a ball, almost as high as the capital of the column bywhich they stood. "There's exaltation!" said Randall in a low voice,and Ambrose perceived that some strangers were in sight. "Come, seekthy brother out, boy, and bring him to the banquet. I'll speak a wordto Peter Porter, and he'll let you in. There'll be plenty of foolingall the afternoon, before my namesake King Hal, who can afford to be anhonester man in his fooling than any about him, and whose laugh at ahearty jest is goodly to hear."
Ambrose thanked him and undertook the quest. They parted at the greatwest door of the Abbey, where, by way of vindicating his own characterfor buffoonery, Randall exclaimed, "Where be mine ass?" and not seeingthe animal, immediately declared, "There he is!" and at the same timesprang upon the back and shoulders of a gaping and astonished clown whowas gazing at the rear of the procession.
The crowd applauded with shouts of coarse laughter, but a man, whoseemed to belong to the victim, broke in with an angry oath, and "Hownow, sir?"
"I cry you mercy," quoth the jester; "'twas mine own ass I sought, andif I have fallen on thine, I will but ride him to York House and thenrestore him. So ho! good jackass," crossing his ankles on the poorfellow's chest so that he could not be shaken off.
The comrade lifted a cudgel, but there was a general cry of "My LordCardinal's jester, lay not a finger on him!"
But Harry Randall was not one to brook immunity on the score of hismaster's greatness. In another second he was on his feet, had wrestedthe staff from the hands of his astounded beast of burden, flourished itround his head after the most approved manner of Shirley champions atLyndhurst fair, and called to his adversary to "come on."
It did not take many rounds before Hal's dexterity had floored hisadversary, and the shouts of "Well struck, merry fool!" "Well played,Quipsome Hal!" were rising high when the Abbot of Westminster's yeomenwere seen making way through the throng, which fell back in terror oneither side as they came to seize on the brawlers in their sacredprecincts.
But here again my Lord Cardinal's fool was a privileged person, and noone laid a hand on him, though his blood being up, he would, spite ofhis gay attire, have enjoyed a fight on equal terms. His quadrupeddonkey was brought up to him amid general applause, but when he lookedround for Ambrose, the boy had disappeared.
The better and finer the nature that displayed itself in Randall, themore painful was the sight of his buffooneries to his nephew, and at thefirst leap, Ambrose had hurried away in confusion. He sought hisbrother here, there, everywhere, and at last came to the conclusion thatStephen must have gone home to dinner. He walked quickly across thefields separating Westminster from the City of London, hoping to reachCheapside before the lads of the Dragon should have gone out again; butjust as he was near Saint Paul's, coming round Amen Corner, he he
ard thesounds of a fray. "Have at the country lubbers! Away with themoonrakers! Flat-caps, come on!" "Hey! lads of the Eagle! Down withthe Dragons! Adders! Snakes-s-s-s-s-!"
There was a kicking, struggling mass of blue backs and yellow legsbefore him, from out of which came "Yah! Down with the Eagles!Cowards! Kites! Cockneys!" There were plenty of boys, men, women withchildren in their arms hallooing on, "Well done, Eagle!" "Go it,Dragon!"
The word Dragon filled the quiet Ambrose with hot impulse to defend hisbrother. All his gentle, scholarly habits gave way before that cry, anda shout that he took to be Stephen's voice in the midst of the _melee_.
He was fairly carried out of himself, and doubling his fists, fell onthe back of the nearest boys, intending to break through to his brother,and he found an unexpected ally. Will Wherry's voice called out, "Havewith you, comrade!"--and a pair of hands and arms considerably stouterand more used to fighting than his own, began to pommel right and leftwith such good will that they soon broke through to the aid of theirfriends; and not before it was time, for Stephen, Giles, and Edmund,with their backs against the wall, were defending themselves with alltheir might against tremendous odds; and just as the new allies reachedthem, a sharp stone struck Giles in the eye, and levelled him with theground, his head striking against the wall. Whether it were from alarmat his fall, or at the unexpected attack in the rear, or probably fromboth causes, the assailants dispersed in all directions without waitingto perceive how slender the succouring force really was.
Edmund and Stephen were raising up the unlucky Giles, who lay quiteinsensible, with blood pouring from his eye. Ambrose tried to wipe itaway, and there were anxious doubts whether the eye itself were safe.They were some way from home, and Giles was the biggest and heaviest ofthem all.
"Would that Kit Smallbones were here!" said Stephen, preparing to takethe feet, while Edmund took the shoulders.
"Look here," said Will Wherry, pulling Ambrose's sleeve, "our yard ismuch nearer, and the old Moor, Master Michael, is safe to know what todo for him. That sort of cattle always are leeches. He wiled the painfrom my thumb when 'twas crushed in our printing-press. Mayhap if heput some salve to him, he might get home on his own feet."
Edmund listened. "There's reason in that," he said. "Dost know thisleech, Ambrose?"
"I know him well. He is a good old man, and wondrous wise. Nay, noblack arts; but he saith his folk had great skill in herbs and the like,and though he be no physician by trade, he hath much of their lore."
"Have with thee, then," returned Edmund, "the rather that Giles is nosmall weight, and the guard might come on us ere we reached the Dragon."
"Or those cowardly rogues of the Eagle might set on us again," addedStephen; and as they went on their way to Warwick Inner Ward, heexplained that the cause of the encounter had been that Giles hadthought fit to prank himself in his father's silver chain, and thusGeorge Bates, always owing the Dragon a grudge, and rendered speciallymalicious since the encounter on Holy Rood Day, had raised the cryagainst him, and caused all the flat-caps around to make a rush at thegaud as lawful prey.
"'Tis clean against prentice statutes to wear one, is it not?" askedAmbrose.
"Ay," returned Stephen; "yet none of us but would stand up for our owncomrade against those meddling fellows of the Eagle."
"But," added Edmund, "we must beware the guard, for if they looked intothe cause of the fray, our master might be called on to give Giles awhipping in the Company's hall, this being a second offence of goingabroad in these vanities."
Ambrose went on before to prepare Miguel Abenali, and entreat his goodoffices, explaining that the youth's master, who was also his kinsman,would be sure to give handsome payment for any good offices to him. Hescarcely got out half the words; the grand old Arab waved his hand andsaid, "When the wounded is laid before the tent of Ben Ali, where is thequestion of recompense? Peace be with thee, my son! Bring him hither.Aldonza, lay the carpet yonder, and the cushions beneath the window,where I may have light to look to his hurt."
Therewith he murmured a few words in an unknown tongue, which, asAmbrose understood, were an invocation to the God of Abraham to blesshis endeavours to heal the stranger youth, but which happily were spokenbefore the arrival of the others, who would certainly have believed theman incantation.
The carpet though worn threadbare, was a beautiful old Moorish rug, onceglowing with brilliancy, and still rich in colouring, and the cushionwas of thick damask faded to a strange pale green. All in that double-stalled partition, once belonging to the great earl's war-horses, wasscrupulously clean, for the Christian Moor had retained some of thepeculiar virtues born of Mohammedanism and of high civilisation. Theapprentice lads tramped in much as if they had been entering a wizard'scave, though Stephen had taken care to assure Edmund of his applicationof the test of holy water.
Following the old man's directions, Edmund and Stephen deposited theirburden on the rug. Aldonza brought some warm water, and Abenali washedand examined the wound, Aldonza standing by and handing him whatever heneeded, now and then assisting with her slender brown hands in a mannerastonishing to the youths, who stood by anxious and helpless, whiletheir companion began to show signs of returning life.
Abenali pronounced that the stone had missed the eyeball, but the cutand bruise were such as to require constant bathing, and the blow on thehead was the more serious matter, for when the patient tried to raisehimself he instantly became sick and giddy, so that it would be wise toleave him where he was. This was much against the will of EdmundBurgess, who shared all the prejudices of the English prentice againstthe foreigner--perhaps a wizard and rival in trade; but there was nohelp for it, and he could only insist that Stephen should mount guardover the bed until he had reported to his master, and returned with hisorders. Therewith he departed, with such elaborate thanks andcourtesies to the host, as betrayed a little alarm in the tallapprentice, who feared not quarter-staff, nor wrestler, and had evendauntlessly confronted the masters of his guild!
Stephen, sooth to say, was not very much at ease; everything around hadsuch a strange un-English aspect, and he imploringly muttered, "Bidewith me, Am!" to which his brother willingly assented, being quite ascomfortable in Master Michael's abode as by his aunt's own hearth.
Giles meanwhile lay quiet and then, as his senses became less confused,and he could open one eye, he looked dreamily about him, and presentlybegan to demand where he was, and what had befallen him, grasping at thehand of Ambrose as if to hold fast by something familiar; but he stillseemed too much dazed to enter into the explanation, and presentlymurmured something about thirst. Aldonza came softly up with a cup ofsomething cool. He looked very hard at her, and when Ambrose would havetaken it from her hand to give it to him, he said, "Nay! _Site_!"
And _site_, with a sweet smile in her soft, dark, shady eyes, and on herfull lips, held the cup to his lips far more daintily and dexterouslythan either of his boy companions could have done; then when he moanedand said his head and eye pained him, the white-bearded elder came andbathed his brow with the soft sponge. It seemed all to pass before himlike a dream, and it was not much otherwise with his unhurt companions,especially Stephen, who followed with wonder the movements made by theslippered feet of father and daughter upon the mats which covered thestone flooring of the old stable. The mats were only of English rushesand flags, and had been woven by Abenali and the child; but loose rashesstrewing the floor were accounted a luxury in the Forest, and even atthe Dragon court the upper end of the hall alone had any covering. Thenthe water was heated, and all such other operations carried on over acurious round vessel placed over charcoal; the window and the door haddark heavy curtains; and a matted partition cut off the further stall,no doubt to serve as Aldonza's chamber. Stephen looked about forsomething to assure him that the place belonged to no wizard enchanter,and was glad to detect a large white cross on the wall, with a holy-water stoup beneath it, but of images there were none.
It seemed
to him a long time before Master Headley's ruddy face, full ofanxiety, appeared at the door.
Blows were, of course, no uncommon matter; perhaps so long as nopermanent injury was inflicted, the master-armourer had no objection toanything that might knock the folly out of his troublesome young inmate;but Edmund had made him uneasy for the youth's eye, and still more soabout the quarters he was in, and he had brought a mattress and a coupleof men to carry the patient home, as well as Steelman, his primeminister, to advise him.
He had left all these outside, however, and advanced, civilly andcondescendingly thanking the sword-cutler, in perfect ignorance that theman who stood before him had been born to a home that was an absolutepalace compared with the Dragon court. The two men were a curiouscontrast. There stood the Englishman with his sturdy form inclining,with age, to corpulence, his broad honest face telling of many a civicbanquet, and his short stubbly brown grizzled beard; his whole airgiving a sense of worshipful authority and weight; and opposite to himthe sparely made, dark, thin, aquiline-faced, white-bearded Moor, a farsmaller man in stature, yet with a patriarchal dignity, refinement, andgrace in port and countenance, belonging as it were to another sphere.
Speaking English perfectly, though with a foreign accent, Abenaliinformed Master Headley that his young kinsman would by Heaven'sblessing soon recover without injury to the eye, though perhaps a scarmight remain.
Mr Headley thanked him heartily for his care, and said that he hadbrought men to carry the youth home, if he could not walk; and then hewent up to the couch with a hearty "How now, Giles? So thou hast hadhard measure to knock the foolery out of thee, my poor lad. But come,we'll have thee home, and my mother will see to thee."
"I cannot walk," said Giles, heavily, hardly raising his eyes, and whenhe was told that two of the men waited to bear him home, he onlyentreated to be let alone. Somewhat sharply, Mr Headley ordered him tosit up and make ready, but when he tried to do so, he sank back with areturn of sickness and dizziness.
Abenali thereupon intreated that he might be left to his care for thatnight, and stepping out into the court so as to be unheard by thepatient, explained that the brain had had a shock, and that perfectquiet for some hours to come was the only way to avert a seriousillness, possibly dangerous. Master Headley did not like thealternative at all, and was a good deal perplexed. He beckoned toTibble Steelman, who had all this time been talking to Lucas Hansen, andnow came up prepared with his testimony that this Michael was a good manand true, a godly one to boot, who had been wealthy in his own land andwas a rare artificer in his own craft.
"Though he hath no license to practise it here," threw in MasterHeadley, _sotto voce_; but he accepted the assurance that Michael was agood Christian, and, with his daughter, regularly went to mass; andsince better might not be, he reluctantly consented to leave Giles underhis treatment, on Lucas reiterating the assurance that he need have nofears of magic or foul play of any sort. He then took the purse thathung at his girdle, and declared that Master Michael, (the title ofcourtesy was wrung from him by the stately appearance of the old man),must be at no charges for his cousin.
But Abenali with a grace that removed all air of offence from hismanner, returned thanks for the intention, but declared that it neverwas the custom of the sons of Ali to receive reward for the hospitalitythey exercised to the stranger within their gates. And so it was thatMaster Headley, a good deal puzzled, had to leave his apprentice underthe roof of the old sword-cutler for the night at least.
"'Tis passing strange," said he, as he walked back; "I know not what mymother will say, but I wish all may be right. I feel--I feel as if Ihad left the lad Giles with Abraham under the oak tree, as we saw him inthe miracle play!"
This description did not satisfy Mrs Headley, indeed she feared thather son was likewise bewitched; and when, the next morning, Stephen, whohad been sent to inquire for the patient, reported him better, but stillunable to be moved, since he could not lift his head without sickness,she became very anxious. Giles was transformed in her estimate from across-grained slip to poor Robin Headley's boy, the only son of a widow,and nothing would content her but to make her son conduct her to WarwickInner Ward to inspect matters, and carry thither a precious relicwarranted proof against all sorcery.
It was with great trepidation that the good old dame ventured, but theresult was that she was fairly subdued by Abenali's patriarchal dignity.She had never seen any manners to equal his, not _even_ when KingEdward the Fourth had come to her father's house at the Barbican,chucked her under the chin, and called her a dainty duck!
It was Aldonza, however, who specially touched her feelings. Such asweet little wench, with the air of being bred in a kingly or knightlycourt, to be living there close to the very dregs of the city was ascandal and a danger--speaking so prettily too, and knowing how to treather elders. She would be a good example for Dennet, who, sooth to say,was getting too old for spoilt-child sauciness to be always pleasing,while as to Giles, he could not be in better quarters. Mrs Headley,well used to the dressing of the burns and bruises incurred in theweapon-smiths' business, could not but confess that his eye had beendealt with as skilfully as she could have done it herself.
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