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Authors: Richard Murphy
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children and he felt a little foolish as he answered some of the easier questions. That is, until they had to take a written test. To his embarrassment and the sniggers of others he repeated his answer to Mr Butler.
“I cannot write, sir,” he said, looking down at the blank paper in front of him and the pen sat next to the jar of ink.
The teacher came to a halt in front of his wooden desk. As he spoke his soft face looked saddened. “My dear boy, have you ever been schooled at all?”
“No sir,” said Matthias. “Only Bible lessons at the abbey.”
Mr Butler’s jet black eyes glistened with sadness. His slender features dropped slightly and he took Matthias gently by the arm.
“Come with me. We shall speak to Mr Hardy at once.” Matthias got up and allowed himself to be led to the door. When they reached it Mr Butler turned to the class and said, “The rest of you may begin.” As they left the room the last thing Matthias heard was the turning of papers and the furious scribbling of pens.
They made their way to Mr Hardy's office and Mr Butler wasted no time at all in knocking on the door and letting himself in. Mr Hardy was lost in papers at his desk but he looked up and raised an eyebrow after Mr Butler let loose an audible cough.
“Mr Butler. Matthias. How can I help you?”
“Mr Hardy, were you aware Matthias cannot read or write?”
Mr Hardy straightened in his chair, “Is this true?”
Matthias felt the need to correct, “I can read a little, sir. But… I cannot write.”
Now Mr Butler turned to Matthias. “You can read, but not write?”
“Yes, sir. Father James taught us to read for Bible classes, but the abbey never had writing lessons.”
The physiology master turned to Mr Hardy with a look of concern on his face. “Matthias will need to learn to write.”
“Yes, but maybe this is something best handled by Lady Taylor? Matthias needs to be instructed in the ways of society much quicker than the other children.”
Mr Butler raised an eyebrow and moved closer to the desk. “I don’t follow.”
Mr Hardy waved him away, “Never mind. We can discuss it later. For now we must ensure he is schooled in writing, literature, dance, conversation and etiquette.” At the mention of the word ‘dance’ Matthias visibly stiffened.
The master stood up and closed the great book he had been writing in. “Mr Butler, I will arrange for Matthias to have writing lessons and will take up the other gaps in his knowledge with Lady Taylor. For now, can he take part in your lessons and perhaps carry out some sort of oral test?”
Mr Butler looked flustered - he was clearly not used to making exceptions. He played with his silk neck tie and looked at Matthias with disregard. “This is most irregular. What I teach cannot be learned by word of mouth alone. The Latin, the drawings…”
“I can take care of this. For now, please do the best you can with him. I will place him immediately into private tuition for his writing.”
“Very well,” said Mr Butler, “if you are sure you can find someone to undertake this task outside of academy hours?”
“I have just the fellow. Mr Butler, please return to your class and continue. I shall be in contact. Matthias, follow me.” The master reached for his black velvet coat and escorted out Mr Butler who left looking perplexed. Mr Hardy turned and walked off in the opposite direction. After several paces he bellowed, “Do hurry up!”
For the second time Matthias was led out into the maze-like corridors. They walked for a short time to a part of the castle he had not yet been to - the chapel. It was instantly recognisable by the pews and candles, not to mention the giant crucifix hanging above the ornate stone altar.
It was strange to enter a church within a castle but when they passed through the rather humble doors they were instantly engulfed in a solemn quiet and the wind could be heard whispering around them. Mr Hardy’s voice, however, cut
“I cannot write, sir,” he said, looking down at the blank paper in front of him and the pen sat next to the jar of ink.
The teacher came to a halt in front of his wooden desk. As he spoke his soft face looked saddened. “My dear boy, have you ever been schooled at all?”
“No sir,” said Matthias. “Only Bible lessons at the abbey.”
Mr Butler’s jet black eyes glistened with sadness. His slender features dropped slightly and he took Matthias gently by the arm.
“Come with me. We shall speak to Mr Hardy at once.” Matthias got up and allowed himself to be led to the door. When they reached it Mr Butler turned to the class and said, “The rest of you may begin.” As they left the room the last thing Matthias heard was the turning of papers and the furious scribbling of pens.
They made their way to Mr Hardy's office and Mr Butler wasted no time at all in knocking on the door and letting himself in. Mr Hardy was lost in papers at his desk but he looked up and raised an eyebrow after Mr Butler let loose an audible cough.
“Mr Butler. Matthias. How can I help you?”
“Mr Hardy, were you aware Matthias cannot read or write?”
Mr Hardy straightened in his chair, “Is this true?”
Matthias felt the need to correct, “I can read a little, sir. But… I cannot write.”
Now Mr Butler turned to Matthias. “You can read, but not write?”
“Yes, sir. Father James taught us to read for Bible classes, but the abbey never had writing lessons.”
The physiology master turned to Mr Hardy with a look of concern on his face. “Matthias will need to learn to write.”
“Yes, but maybe this is something best handled by Lady Taylor? Matthias needs to be instructed in the ways of society much quicker than the other children.”
Mr Butler raised an eyebrow and moved closer to the desk. “I don’t follow.”
Mr Hardy waved him away, “Never mind. We can discuss it later. For now we must ensure he is schooled in writing, literature, dance, conversation and etiquette.” At the mention of the word ‘dance’ Matthias visibly stiffened.
The master stood up and closed the great book he had been writing in. “Mr Butler, I will arrange for Matthias to have writing lessons and will take up the other gaps in his knowledge with Lady Taylor. For now, can he take part in your lessons and perhaps carry out some sort of oral test?”
Mr Butler looked flustered - he was clearly not used to making exceptions. He played with his silk neck tie and looked at Matthias with disregard. “This is most irregular. What I teach cannot be learned by word of mouth alone. The Latin, the drawings…”
“I can take care of this. For now, please do the best you can with him. I will place him immediately into private tuition for his writing.”
“Very well,” said Mr Butler, “if you are sure you can find someone to undertake this task outside of academy hours?”
“I have just the fellow. Mr Butler, please return to your class and continue. I shall be in contact. Matthias, follow me.” The master reached for his black velvet coat and escorted out Mr Butler who left looking perplexed. Mr Hardy turned and walked off in the opposite direction. After several paces he bellowed, “Do hurry up!”
For the second time Matthias was led out into the maze-like corridors. They walked for a short time to a part of the castle he had not yet been to - the chapel. It was instantly recognisable by the pews and candles, not to mention the giant crucifix hanging above the ornate stone altar.
It was strange to enter a church within a castle but when they passed through the rather humble doors they were instantly engulfed in a solemn quiet and the wind could be heard whispering around them. Mr Hardy’s voice, however, cut
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