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Authors: Margaret Campbell Barnes
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dumbfounded amazement, “we will keep you at Court as our Jester.”
I FOUND THE MOTLEY spread out on a table in the little room they took me to. The servants who led me there were still babbling congratulations on my extraordinary good fortune, but I was longing to be alone in my bewilderment. I pushed them outside and stood staring with aversion at the strange trappings which were to be the sign of my new calling. The green worsted doublet stiffened with buckram and all fringed with bells to attract attention. The parti-coloured hose. The cap fashioned like a monk’s cowl, but ornamented with a gaudy coxcomb. The belt with leather pouch and foolish wooden dagger. Most horrible of all, the painted bladder on a stick.
I picked up each symbol, one by one, and laid it down again. Once I had donned them should I become a different person? Should I never see Easton Neston again, nor any who lived there? I covered my face with my hands and sank down on a stool by a little lattice window overlooking the carpenter’s courtyard. There I must have sat for hours trying to accept the fantastic change of fortune which had been thrust upon me. And there, just before twilight, my first master found me. He was on the point of leaving for London, but would not go without seeing me.
“Why, Will,” he exclaimed, coming suddenly upon my obvious dejection where he had expected to find at least some measure of jubilation.
I rose stiffly and asked how he had fared. For him, it seemed, the day at Greenwich had been one vast success, as he deserved.He had spent some time with the great Cardinal who had thanked him for his son’s financial help in Florence, and ordered one of his clerks to repay the loan. And Wolsey had also been delighted with the samples of Italian silk, and ordered more than one hundred and twenty pounds’ worth of the scarlet alone, so that it seemed reasonable to suppose that Fermor ships would continue to supply the Papal Legate’s needs. And the King himself had walked with Master Fermor from bowling green to palace, talking and laughing, and enquiring how trade went with Flanders. Being still in high good humour over his spectacular winning shot on the green, he had promised to persuade the Duchess Margaret of Savoy to allow my master to export a certain amount of wheat from Flanders free of tax. “When I explained that I needed this concession to offset the expense of laying down a new ship, his Grace readily understood that in the end this would bring in more trade,” said Master Fermor. “He takes vast and knowledgeable interest in ships. ‘The more the better, for they are our larder and our defence,’ he said. So now everything should go well. What with gaining the Cardinal’s custom and a hundred thousand bushels or so of wheat tax free from Flanders, my trading this year should be doubled.”
“I am indeed glad for you, Sir,” I said soberly.
“And to think that it all came about through your clowning, Will. As it happened, you could not have timed it better, for Lord Vaux and I were standing right beside his Grace when he stopped and laughed at you. ‘We will keep that crazy mimic of yours as hostage for any future taxes you may incur,’ he said jokingly afterwards, when I began thanking him. And here is your own fortune made too, Will. Though God knows I shall miss you,” he added.“We shall all miss you grievously at Neston.” And then, as I stood silent, the depth of my grief must have pierced his consciousness.The pleased smile left his face and he said with genuine regret, “My daughter will miss you.”
But who was Richard Fermor to refuse a king? Or I, to refuse to stand hostage, even jokingly, for a good master’s improbable debts?
“You will explain to my little lady that I had no choice—that I could not come back as I promised to—to make her see it all?”
“Yes, I will explain—everything,” he promised. “I know that Neston has been a home to you, and am glad of it.
I FOUND THE MOTLEY spread out on a table in the little room they took me to. The servants who led me there were still babbling congratulations on my extraordinary good fortune, but I was longing to be alone in my bewilderment. I pushed them outside and stood staring with aversion at the strange trappings which were to be the sign of my new calling. The green worsted doublet stiffened with buckram and all fringed with bells to attract attention. The parti-coloured hose. The cap fashioned like a monk’s cowl, but ornamented with a gaudy coxcomb. The belt with leather pouch and foolish wooden dagger. Most horrible of all, the painted bladder on a stick.
I picked up each symbol, one by one, and laid it down again. Once I had donned them should I become a different person? Should I never see Easton Neston again, nor any who lived there? I covered my face with my hands and sank down on a stool by a little lattice window overlooking the carpenter’s courtyard. There I must have sat for hours trying to accept the fantastic change of fortune which had been thrust upon me. And there, just before twilight, my first master found me. He was on the point of leaving for London, but would not go without seeing me.
“Why, Will,” he exclaimed, coming suddenly upon my obvious dejection where he had expected to find at least some measure of jubilation.
I rose stiffly and asked how he had fared. For him, it seemed, the day at Greenwich had been one vast success, as he deserved.He had spent some time with the great Cardinal who had thanked him for his son’s financial help in Florence, and ordered one of his clerks to repay the loan. And Wolsey had also been delighted with the samples of Italian silk, and ordered more than one hundred and twenty pounds’ worth of the scarlet alone, so that it seemed reasonable to suppose that Fermor ships would continue to supply the Papal Legate’s needs. And the King himself had walked with Master Fermor from bowling green to palace, talking and laughing, and enquiring how trade went with Flanders. Being still in high good humour over his spectacular winning shot on the green, he had promised to persuade the Duchess Margaret of Savoy to allow my master to export a certain amount of wheat from Flanders free of tax. “When I explained that I needed this concession to offset the expense of laying down a new ship, his Grace readily understood that in the end this would bring in more trade,” said Master Fermor. “He takes vast and knowledgeable interest in ships. ‘The more the better, for they are our larder and our defence,’ he said. So now everything should go well. What with gaining the Cardinal’s custom and a hundred thousand bushels or so of wheat tax free from Flanders, my trading this year should be doubled.”
“I am indeed glad for you, Sir,” I said soberly.
“And to think that it all came about through your clowning, Will. As it happened, you could not have timed it better, for Lord Vaux and I were standing right beside his Grace when he stopped and laughed at you. ‘We will keep that crazy mimic of yours as hostage for any future taxes you may incur,’ he said jokingly afterwards, when I began thanking him. And here is your own fortune made too, Will. Though God knows I shall miss you,” he added.“We shall all miss you grievously at Neston.” And then, as I stood silent, the depth of my grief must have pierced his consciousness.The pleased smile left his face and he said with genuine regret, “My daughter will miss you.”
But who was Richard Fermor to refuse a king? Or I, to refuse to stand hostage, even jokingly, for a good master’s improbable debts?
“You will explain to my little lady that I had no choice—that I could not come back as I promised to—to make her see it all?”
“Yes, I will explain—everything,” he promised. “I know that Neston has been a home to you, and am glad of it.
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