And a son writes to this same worthy Margaret:—
“Ryght worshipful and my moste kynde and tender moder, I recommend me to you, thanking you of the great coste, and of the grete chere that ye dyd me, and myn, at my last being with you. Item: As for the books that weer Sir James [would] it like you that I may have them? I am not able to buy them; but somewhat wolde I give, and the remnant with a good devout hert, by my truthe, I will pray for his soule.
“Also, moder, I herd while in London ther was a goodly young woman to marry whyche was daughter to one Seff, a mercer, and she will have 200 pounds in money to her marriage, and 20 £ by year after the dysesse of a stepmoder of hers, whiche is upon 50 yeeres of age: and fore I departed out o’ Lunnon, I spak with some of the mayd’s friends, and hav gotten their good wille to hav her married to my broder Edmond. Master Pykenham too is another that must be consulted—so he says: Wherefore, Moder, we must beseeche you to helpe us forward with a lettyr to Master Pykenham, for to remember him for to handyl this matter, now, this Lent.”
A younger son writes:—
“I beseeche you humbly of your blessing: also, modyr, I beseeche you that ther may be purveyed some meane that I myth have sent me home by the same messenger that shall bring my Aunt Poynings answer—two paire hose—1 payr blak and another russet, whyche be redy for me at the hosers with the crooked back next to the Blk Friars gate, within Ludgate. John Pampyng knoweth him well eno’. And if the blk hose be paid for, he will send me the russet ones unpaid for. I beseeche you that this geer be not forgot, for I have not an whole hose to do on. I pray you visit the Rood of St. Pauls, and St. Savior at Barmonsey whyls ye abide in London, and let my sister Margery go with you to pray to them that she may have a good husband ere she come home again. Written at Norwich on holyrood day, by yr
“Son and lowly Servant
“Jno: Paston the Youngest.”
This sounds as home-like as if it were written yesterday, and about one of us—even to the sending of two pair of hose if one was paid for. And yet this familiar, boy-like letter was written in the year 1465: six years before Caxton had set up his press in Westminster—twenty-seven before Columbus had landed on San Salvador, and at a time when Louis XI. and barber Oliver (whose characters are set forth in Scott’s story of Quentin Durward) were hanging men who angered them on the branches of the trees which grew around the dismal palace of Plessis-les-Tours, in France.