“Bless thee, child! how do I know? That was the autumn when there was so much ado here at Lincoln touching the crucifixion of the blessed Hugh, son of Beatrice, by the wicked Jews; one hundred and more of them were brought to prison, first here, and afterwards at Westminster; and when eighteen had been hanged, the rest were graciously allowed to buy their lives for eighteen thousand marks. I daresay some of that went for it—that is, for as much of it as got paid for.”
That sum would now be equal to about two hundred and sixteen thousand pounds. It never came into Avice’s head to doubt whether the Jews had crucified little Hugh. Such charges were often enough brought against them—when those who called themselves Christians wanted an excuse for stealing the jews’ money and jewels. There has never been a single instance, in this country or any other, in which the charge has been proved true. A further favourite accusation, that the Jews used the blood of Christian children to make their passover cakes, we know cannot have been true; for the Bible tells us that the Jews were strictly forbidden to eat blood. But what absurdity might not be expected from people who had no Bibles, and of whom not more than one in a thousand could have read it if he had had one? Are we half thankful enough for our own privileges?
“Well!” continued Avice, “after this, the Lady Alianora came down to Windsor with the Lady Queen, and our little Lady and she took to one another wonderfully. And, indeed, it was little wonder, for she was as fair and sweet a damsel as ever tripped over the greensward. Our little Lady would run to her whenever she sat down in the children’s chamber, and say, ‘Up! up!’ and then the Lady Alianora would smile sweetly, and take her up beside her in the great state chair; and there they sat with their arms round one another, looking like two doves with their heads resting on each other’s necks. And the Lady Alianora once said to me, stroking our little Lady’s hair—‘I hope, Avice, thou givest her plenty of love. She can understand that, if she cannot anything else.’ Ay, and so she could! She fretted sadly over the Lady Alianora when she went away from Windsor. I think she and the little kid were more than ever together after that. I have found them both asleep in a corner of the chamber, resting on one another.”
“Was she fond of pets?”
“She loved her little kid dearly, and she seemed to go to it for comfort. I do not know that she cared much for anything else. The Lord King was the one for gathering curious animals of all sorts. He had three leopards in the Tower, and a white bear, which was taken out to fish in the Thames; the citizens of London paid fourpence a day for the bear’s keep, and had to provide a chain and muzzle for it, and a long cord whereby it was held when it fished in the river. And in the spring, before the coming of the Lady Alianora, the French King sent to our King a very strange animal, the like of which was never before seen in England. It had scarcely any eyes that man might see, and not much of a tail; but great flapping ears, and a most extraordinary thing that hung down from its face, which was hollow like a pipe, and it could pick things up with it as thou dost with thy fingers. It was a lead-coloured beast, and ate nought but grass and hay and such-like; it would not touch meat nor bones. They called it an oliphant,”—for so in old time people pronounced elephant. “The Lord King thought great things of this beast, and had a house built for it, forty feet by twenty, at the Tower: it was made very strong, lest the great beast should break forth and slay men. But truly it seemed a peaceable beast enough.
“We dwelt much more quietly at Windsor, after the departure of the Lady Alianora. For she went abroad with the Lord Edward her husband, and Mariot de Ferrars, who had been there for some time—she went too; and the King’s son Edmund was made King of Sicily by the Lord Pope, and he and the other lads were taken away; our little Lady and her cousin Alianora de Montfort alone were left. The King thought to have made money by Edmund his son; he was a fair boy in very truth, and he clad him in Sicilian dress, which was graceful and comely, and showed him before the Parliament, entreating them to find him money for all these many expenses. But the Parliament did not seem disposed to pay for seeing the young Lord. And, indeed, I heard Master Russell say that he thought it strange the Lord King should make merchandise of his child’s beauty, as though he were some curious animal to be seen in a show. But Bertha, my dear heart! we clean forgot to buy any honey—and only this minute is it come to my mind. Tie on thine hood, I pray thee, and run to the druggist for an half-dozen pounds.”
When it is understood that honey held in Avice’s cookery and diet the place that sugar does in ours, the necessity of remedying this mistake will be seen. Sugar was much too expensive to be used by any but wealthy people.
Note 1. The robes provided for Agnes and Avice are the sole imaginary items in this account. Sendal was a very thin silk.