In this letter he complains of the heavy charge for his hired Court apparel.
Sir William Saint-Loe to Lady Saint-Loe.
“My honest sweet Chatsworth: I like the weekly price of my hired court stuff so evil that upon Thursday next I will send it home again, at which day the week endeth. I pray you cause such stuff as Mowsall left packed in a sheet to be brought hither by the next carrier: there be hand towels and other things therein that I must occupy when I shall lie at Whitehall. My men hath neither shirt nor any other thing to shift them until that come. Trust none of your men to ride any [of] your housed horses, but only James Cromp or William Marchington; but neither of them without good cause serve speedily to be done. For nags there be enough about the house to serve other purposes. One handful of oats to every one of the geldings at a watering will be sufficient so they be not laboured. You must cause some[one] to oversee the horsekeeper for that he is very well learned in loitering.
“The Queen hath found great fault with my long absence saying that she would talk with me farther, and that she would well chide me. Whereunto I answered that when her highness understood the truth and the cause she would not be offended. Whereunto she said ‘Very well, very well.’ Howbeit hand of hers I did not kisse.
“The Lord Keeper hath promised me faithfully to be at both days’ hearing; and that if either law or conscience be on my side I shall have it to my contentment. Vaughan is come unto town, but not yet Bagott. Stevens and we shall go through on Friday night next, at which time his brother will be here, who hath disbursed seven hundred of the twelve hundred pounds. I have an extreme pain in my teeth since Sunday dinner. Thus with aching teeth I end, praying the living [God] to preserve thee and all thine. Written at London, against my will where I am if other ways our matters might well be ended, this 24th of October:
“Your loving husband with aching heart until we meet,
“William Seyntlo.
“If you think good, lease your fishing in Dove unto Agard. We are the losers of suffering it as we have done.
“To my loving wife at Chatsworth
give this with speed.”