The Liberties of London (Red Ned Tudor Mysteries)
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The Liberties of London
A Red Ned Mystery
By Gregory House
Published by Gregory House at Amazon
Copyright 2011 Gregory House
Discover other titles by Gregory House at www.amazon.com or www.amazon.co.uk
Or his Amazon Author page
All artwork copyright Alexander House 2011
Archaeology, Peter Wilkes and other diverse matters blogged at
http://prognosticationsandpouting.blogspot.com
Red Ned, the Reluctant Tudor Detective blog at
http://rednedtudormysteries.blogspot.com/
Stories in the Red Ned Tudor Mysteries Series
Amazon UK
The Liberties of London
The Queen’s Oranges
The Cardinal’s Angels
Amazon US/Australia
The Liberties of London
The Queen’s Oranges
The Cardinal’s Angels
Soon to be release in the Red Ned Series on Amazon
The Smithfield Shambles
The Trade of the Thames
The King’s Counsel
Soon to be released, the first book in the Darkness Series a Tudor Historical Fantasy on Amazon
Darkness Divined
Peter Wilks Archaeological Mysteries Series on Amazon
Terra Australis Templar
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Contents
The Liberties of London
Contents
Map of Tudor London 1529
Dramatis Personae
The Royal Court
Historical Note
Tudor Coinage and values
Update December 2011
Tudor Terms
Prologue A Perilous Position
Chapter One: A Christmas Revel Christmas Eve London 1529
Chapter Two: An Unwanted Task
Chapter Three: The Relics of London
Chapter Four: A Doubtful Decision
Chapter Five: A Sudden Summons
Chapter Six: Where’s Walter?
Chapter Seven: A Lost Lamb or Loose in the Liberties
Chapter Eight: The Devil’s Delights
Chapter Nine: A Christmas Carolling
Chapter Ten: A Knave
Chapter Eleven: The Nick
Chapter Twelve: Fleete of Foote
Chapter Thirteen: A Lamb Gathered In
Chapter Fourteen: Compter Caught
Chapter Fifteen: A Beneficial Visit
Chapter Sixteen: A Proper Repentance
Tudor Pastimes
Rules for Hazard (Dicing)
‘Honours’ or Ruff and Honours
Objective
Starting
Play
Map of Tudor London 1529
Dramatis Personae
Edward Bedwell or as he prefers Red Ned – an apprentice lawyer at Greys Inn and organiser of the Christmas Revels
Margaret or Meg Black – apprentice apothecary and amateur surgeon and sometime smuggler of illicit literature, suspected subverter of the Christmas Revels
Robert Black – older brother of Meg, apprentice artificer and Ned’s partner in the Revels scheme
Gruesome Roger – retainer to the Black family, a fellow with secrets who likes to loom menacingly over Ned ruining his Christmas
Richard Rich – commissioner of Sewers London and uncle of Red Ned, a lawyer climbing the ladder of patronage, a good friend of Thomas Cromwell
Canting Michael – a gang lord of Southwark who would like Red Ned’s company for an hour or two
Earless Nick (Throckmore) – self proclaimed Master of Masterless men and Lord of the Liberties, always ready for good company and a game.
Lady Dellingham – an ardent church reformer and ally of Cromwell, she has firm views on the good works in the sinkholes of London
Walter Dellingham – a young innocent reformist lad of interesting dispositions and talents
Anthea – a blonde punk of St Paul’s, consort of Earless Nick
And a host of revelling clerks, apprentice lawyers and assorted punks, minions and rogues
The Royal Court
King Henry VIII – a sovereign in desperate need of a male heir
Katherine of Aragon – Queen of England, for now
Lady Anne Boleyn – a Howard niece and supporter of Lutherans who the King wants to marry
Thomas Cromwell – former secretary to Cardinal Wolsey now serving the King on the Privy Council
Sir Thomas More – Lord Chancellor of England and pursuer of heretics
Cardinal Thomas Wolsey – disgraced former Lord Chancellor now living in exile from the Royal Court
Historical Note
The Liberties of London is a work of fiction. However most of the main points of the story are based around historical Tudor London of 1529 and the setting is derived from period documents and accounts. I have endeavoured to give contemporary readers a window into the daily thoughts, and attitudes of the people in their positions in the Tudor hierarchy. All the main characters of this work are fictional, though, as much as research allows, they do express the mood, passions and concerns of the time. These views do not necessarily represent those of the author.
Tudor Coinage and values
During the reign of Henry VIII, the value of coins varied wildly since coins were frequently recalled and re issued with a lower precious metal content, to aid the financing of Henry’s expenditure on war and domestic building programs. It got to such a state that the gold sovereign coins stamped with the portrait of the King were nicknamed old copper noses since frequent handling gave them a red gold colour. Rhenish florins, Thalers and Venetian florins were the period’s equivalent of US dollars and accepted all over Europe. All other coins were evaluated to their standard.
farthing = quarter of a penny (0.25d)
halfpenny (0.5d)
1 penny silver coin
Half groat silver coin worth 2 pence
Groat silver coin worth 4 pence
1 shilling silver coin worth 12d
1 noble a gold coin worth 6s 8d. (80p, or 1/3 of a pound)
1 Angel a gold coin worth 7 shillings and 6 pence
1 pound or a sovereign gold coin worth 20 shillings, i.e. 240 pence
1 mark was the value of 8 ounces of gold or silver; 123 4d
For more Tudor information I suggest you have a look at the following books;
Pleasures and Pastimes in Tudor England Europe by Alison Sim
Walking Shakespeare’s London by Nicholas Robins
Elizabeth’s London by Liza Picard
Food and Feast in Tudor England by Alison Sim
Tudor Blogging at http://rednedtudormysteries.blogspot.com/
Blogging at http://prognosticationsandpouting.blogspot.com
Look out for the rest of the series of the Red Ned ‘adventures’ at Amazon
Regards
Gregory House- Terra Australis
Update December 2011
To all my readers at the start of this yuletide season, I wish you all a safe and happy time during the festivities rich in fellowship, regard and family wherever you may be. Secondly, an apology for the nu
merous errors, that kindly readers have pointed out, hopefully in this revision they’ve been routed out like damnable heretics and summarily dealt with. Thirdly as a writer of historical fiction, I strive to bring forth a contemporary understandable view of the Tudor Age, during the reign of Henry VIII. For instance, the English of the Tudor period is both maddeningly close and frustratingly different to our modern usages. To aid the story flow and provide a period flavour I’ve made some efforts to render dialects and phrasing into more modern standards, hopefully without sounding like a player at a Ren Fair. For any one who would like to look a little deeper into where our language came from I can highly recommend Bill Bryson’s The Mother Tongue, an extremely amusing account of accent, eccentricity and English. Finally apart from a good tale of adventure, rogues and cosenage as a historian and researcher I’m trying to give the reader as accurate portrayal of Tudor life and culture as possible based on the surviving records and accounts. That being so some errors are bound to creep in, the main one is the Wood Street Compter or Gaol, this it appears was built in 1553, thus too late for Ned’s period. So in this revision that has been changed to the older and nearby Bread Street Compter by St Mildred’s, which the Wood Street Compter later replaced.
Regards Gregory House
Tudor Terms
Ale house: Lower in social scale and quality than a tavern. Usually a room with a few benches and a brew house out the back. In theory, they had to be licensed. These were considered by the city officials as the breeding ground of mischief and crime.
Tavern: Equivalent to a modern British Pub or American Bar usually serving reasonable quality food and ale.
Inn: These establishments were the Sheratons or Hiltons of their age, large buildings with a courtyard and stables used to catering to gentry and nobility.
Stew: A brothel or a region of disreputable activities.
Sack: A sweet fortified wine similar to sherry drunk at any occasion sometimes further sweetened with sugar.
Candlemass: The religious festival of the Catholic faith held on the 2nd February about forty days after Christmas and at the mid point between the Winter solstice and the Spring Equinox. Also Groundhog Day in the Eastern USA.
Hallowtide: The religious festival of All Hallow’s Eve or Halloween 1st November.
Cony catching: A common derisive term for any manner of con trick or swindle played on the gullible victim or ‘coney’.
Cozener or cross biter: Swindlers, fraudsters tricksters etc.
Cozenage: the play, art or skill of fraud, deception or scam.
Nip: A young pickpocket.
Foister: One of the nicknames of a fraudster or pickpocket, commonly a cozener’s offsider.
Punk: A common name for a part time prostitute.
Justice: The local judge or Royal official charged with keeping the peace.
The Common Watch: this stout band of law officers acted as the Tudor version of the police force and occasional fire brigade. Usually regarded by the citizens as next to useless, venial and dumber than a bag of hammers.
Constables: These are the usual law enforcement officers for the city of London and its wards and parishes. While in some places they were competent, most of them were considered worse than the Common Watch.
Ward Muster Companies: Citizen militia of reasonable quality and equipment, usually recruited from the better classes of Londoners.
The Liberties: Areas of the city of London and Southwark under the jurisdiction of the Church and exempt from interference by city or county officials. Usually swarming with punks, cony catchers, thieves, murderers and forgers.
Lollard Towers: Church prisons for heretics so named for Wycliffe’s 14th century English sect who wanted the Bible translated into English and reform of the church.
Manchet loaf: Best quality white bread usually for the well off.
Ravel loaf: Coarser quality bread usually eaten by tradesmen and others.
Wherry: A small boat with one to four rowers, used for transport on the Thames, the taxi of its day.
Prologue A Perilous Position
Ned closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the winter chilled stonework of the bridge. No, he kept on telling himself, don’t look down. That wasn’t a good idea. It may look like any other patch of the murky, stygian gloom of mid winter, but searching for an unseen peril below didn’t help. If he fell he knew what happened. He’d seen it a minute or so ago when the bridge wall collapsed. Earless Nick’s luckless minion tumbled over him and, screaming briefly, had plummeted onto the ice which had shattered with a loud crash, then finally a choking gurgle. So no, he didn’t need to peer down there to see the effects. His imagination was already doing a good enough job supplying him with the images he didn’t need. He already knew the Fleete Ditch by reputation – all of London and the Liberties did. In summer you could smell it for a mile. So a closer inspection of the sluggish, turgid, stream, charged with turds and piss channel scourings was not required. Instead he needed to do something constructive, like figure out how to climb up.
As it was, his fingers were getting cramped, shoved as they were between the iron and the stone. He’d tried to tighten his grip on the iron staple and who knows, without the gloves, it may have been easier. However as slippery as they felt right now, they protected his flesh from the jagged edged iron. Damn the Liberties work crews and damn Sir Thomas Bloody More! That lofty royal official had been Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, and this bridge was under his jurisdiction for repair. Perhaps if the new Lord Chancellor of the Kingdom had spent less time a’ hunting heretics, he could have put that spare energy to better use. Like repairing the bloody Fleete Ditch Bridge!
Ned attempted to distract himself from this situation. An ancient philosopher had suggested that, when in peril, one should recall a happy or pleasurable occasion to regain a moment of joy. Well he did that, and what readily sprang to mind was the Christmas Revels. His Christmas Revels actually, that he’d organised, financed and in fact should have, at this very moment, been sitting down to, feasting on roast suckling pig with a tankard of the finest sack in his hand. And just think, during these twelve nights of Christmas, didn’t he have so much to be thankful for. Now he was hanging off the Fleete Ditch Bridge. Oh, how could it be better?
Ned wedged his hand further into the unyielding stone and mortar. Let him see. Of course, Mistress damn her arrogance Black, she could be here instead of him. Oh wait no, no. What would be more fitting was that meepish little rat, the reformist lost lamb, Walter Dellingham! But wait, his daemon supplied one name above all, one name that well and truly deserved to be here; Gruesome Roger Hawkins. It was the fault of that surly retainer of the Black’s that Ned was here swinging off a piece of iron, waiting to plunge to an ignominious end. Oh Christ on the Cross no, not drowned in turds!
As Ned made an effort to remember a prayer, any prayer, he heard the scraping of a boot on the cobbles of the bridge above him. Slowly the scuffing came closer. Damn – more of Earless Nick’s minions. He’d already gone through three – wasn’t that enough? Anyway that complaint was moot. It was not as if he could get to his dagger or sword – they were up there on the bridge. Possibly he could push himself hard against the stone wall. It was damned dark down here and the bridge lanterns didn’t cast even a smidgen of light this way. The boots hit his sword and the metal chimed on the cobbles. The outline of a figure peered over the edge as if looking straight at him. Ned wasn’t sure whether or not he should call out.
Then a low voice spoke above him. “Well bless me, it really is Christmas. Fancy finding y’ here Bedwell. Wotcha doin’ down there? Is Walter with y’?”