I was born in the light part of the night or the dark part of the morning before the cockcrow on the first day of the month of April in the year of our Lord, fifteen hundred twenty-three.  I know this for fact since my father did write it down in his account books.  The first entry for that day.  I was to be the first of five children.  It was not till much later that I learned my mother had lost five children before me.  I never did learn the details of that, though I suspect my sister, Katrin, did have it from my mother.  Katrin is far away now with her husband, James.  I know not where she has ended up or how she does faire.

I grew up in the house of my father, Roderick the Bowyer son of Morris.  My mother, Ruth daughter of Samuel, tried to keep all of us, four boys and a girl, out of my father's way, but I and my brothers were privileged to be taught the mysteries of my father's trade as we were able to be useful.

We lived a quiet life in Kuhail.  To call it a village is to promote it beyond it's worth.  It was simply a place where two minor roads crossed and a convenient place for people to meet and sell their produce.  Of course, there was an ale house with beds to rent for the occasional traveler who hadn't properly planned his trip to Bristol, Weymouth, or Poole to avoid our little corner of bucolic paradise.  Not far away was a small outpost where the Sheriff's militia quartered when they were not policing the roads.

My father was a fine boyer and the Sheriff himself had left standing orders for war bows and permission to seek the wood on Royal lands.  In fact, my father and the Sheriff's woodsman would often down a quart or so together of an evening. Roderick was well thought of by all.  A good part of that was that he had been taught to read by his father, Morris, who had the letters beaten into his head by an old priest.  He was always happy to help someone read a letter or cipher out a sum beyond the count of his fingers.  Of course, Da taught me, so I could tend to his ledgers.  I found they came easily as with the ciphering.  But the Latin made no sense and I know it not to this day.  Let the priests tend to the Latin, that is their proper mystery.

'Twas in the year of our Lord fifteen hundred and forty-one shortly after my nineteenth birthday, that I was called up by the Sheriff to do battle with the Scots.  By the time I was mustered out, what with this skirmish and that battle, I was approaching the age of twenty-one.

Our general was kind to us and I found myself with a substantial purse which I used to purchase an apprenticeship with a barber-surgeon, William Edwards.  I am sure you will realize that, it was very late in my life to be apprenticed. But, a man must have a profession and Master Edwards told me that with my enthusiasm and intelligence, he could see me through my examination in four years or less.  I was very grateful, as I had grown fascinated by the surgeon's work in the fields of battle.

I suppose I could have gone back to Kuhail but life was too melancholy in my father's home.  My brother Gwilim told me that after our mother died of the sweating sickness Da stopped caring about his work.  In fact, he had not finished a single bow since her funeral.  The boys were caring for him well enough.  And he, himself, encouraged me to put the money to use for my future.

It was not long after that that I found myself aboard His Most Royal Majesty's ship of war, the Mary Rose.  My master had decided to improve himself and with the recommendation his former teacher, he was offered the post, which he did most heartily accept and was happy to pay for.

It was an interesting time for me, being on one of the largest ships in the fleet.  My master saw to my training and I helped him in his duties where I was able and saw to his needs as well.  It was he who taught me the old riddle about who it is that shaves the barber who shaves all the men who do not shave themselves.  We did laugh about that since it was I who did shave him.

We spent a year aboard the Mary Rose.  The ship was making a show up and down the narrow sea and training up her crew. In my free time, I made friends with the pilot's apprentice, Rupert, and he did teach me how to use the astrolabe to sight upon a star and know the true hour of the day as well as for matters astrological.

The year was fifteen hundred and forty-five, the day was the seventeenth of July, and the place was the sea off the Isle of Wight.  There were eighty of our ships and at least twice that many of the French.  That day we had held back and fired our guns at each other.  There was little damage to either side and that night the Vice-Admiral and the Captain did sit to sup with the King himself aboard the Great Harry.

The next day we did respond to passes from the French fleet which seemed somewhat bolder than before and 'twas late in the afternoon when the wind picked up and we set our sails.  I was on the windward side of the deck watching the canvas fill.  There came a sudden gust and I felt the ship heel over.  I grabbed a line to steady myself but I noticed the ship was going even further over.  Then I heard a great sliding and crash followed by the sounds of shouting and water rushing.  The ship went over and down faster than anyone could have imagined.  I'm sure it was my grip upon the line that gave me the chance to find a place to swim clear.  I have a confused memory of running on the side of the ship and jumping past barnacles.

Of the whole ship's company, some four hundred and a few more, only thirty of us were pulled from the sea that day. Master Edwards, Rupert, and all the other good men aboard the Mary Rose sank down deep in the Solent sea.  May God have mercy on their souls, one and all.

I find I have a tear in my eye and an empty tankard in my hand.  Since this is clearly to be a long evening, I pray your pardon while I fetch us more to drink, ale for you, good sir, and brandy wine for me.

Part the Second

So, where was I? Ah yes, the sinking of the Mary Rose.  You will understand that all that I had to call mine went down with the ship.  My master perished as did my chance to become a proper barber-surgeon.  Thus, the hand of God wrote in my life's book as in so many other lives that ended that day.  At least I still had my life.  I had not been the King's man in this matter so I had naught to look for from that quarter. When the battle was over and we did drive away the French fleet I was brought back to England and made my way overland to Kuhail and took up residence in the home of my father.

To be truthful, my brothers were happy to have me tending to Da.  He had become very old very quickly, or so it seemed to me who had been gone for such a long while between visits.  I paid my way by helping out in the fields and mixing the potions Master Edwards had taught me.  It was not, properly speaking, the right thing to do, since I was not a member of the guild.  But there was no barber-surgeon nearby and I had paid for my knowledge.  All in all, I couldn't let people, or animals, suffer when I knew how to help them.

It was the animals that led me to where I am today in this great hall near the barrow.  I developed a real skill for healing horses and farm animals.  So much so that Captain Merwyn Harold of the militia outpost would call me to tend his sick animals.  This was shortly after good King Henry died and his young son Edward took the throne.  King Edward was shy ten years of age and Edward Seymour was made the King's Regent and Duke of Somerset.

The Scots had sworn to King Henry that Queen Mary of Scotland would be betrothed to Edward.  Now, the Scots refused to go through with their promise.  Lord Somerset acting for the King took a sizeable force into Scotland.

Captain Harold took me along to tend to his horses.  That was how I once again found myself in Scotland, this time well past the border country.  Of course, this time I had some standing being a veteran and skilled in more than just weapons. In fact, the captain would often lend me out to deal with the sickly of other troops of horse.  Despite us going into danger, I was once again caught up in the excitement of it all.  The only part I was unhappy about was the troop of Spaniards.  They kept themselves apart from the rest of us and thought nothing so magnificent as their stupid hackbutts and their horses.  (Well, the horses were wondrous fine, but I have no use for gun powder -- aboard a horse no less.) Yet, Lord Somerset did pay them well and he clearly thought more of men firing tiny little cannons from horseback than those of us on the ground did.

We harried the Scots till we forced them to ground at Pinkie Cleugh.  The Scots had a far better position than we, up on the high ground, and nearly twice the men.  What we had was better trained fighters and part of our enemy in range of our naval batteries.  The first day, there was a skirmish against the Scots cavalry on a nearby hill.  Things went poorly for them, though it might have gone otherwise.

The second day, the Scots sent down two offers: That we retire without opposition and that we settle the matter by battle of champions one man from each side supported by twenty friends.  Lord Somerset would have none of either proposition.  So, it was that the battle began.

We nearly lost the battle right at the start.  The Duke set about moving his cannon to high ground overlooking the battlefield.  As he wheeled the troops in that direction, the Scots took advantage of an open flank to sweep down on us with their massed pikemen.

The naval guns took up and did great damage to the rearward battle mostly highlanders and poorly armoured.  They ran to the main battle group and after some confusion, they unified and moved forward again.  The Scots pikemen formed a moveable rampart of points that put one in mind of a hedge hog creeping up on his lady in spring.  Lord Somerset had no alternative but to send out his cavalry.

The cavalry had really expected no battle that day.  All the horse barding and much of their personal armour had been left back at the camp.  This is why I was present at the battle at all.  I was expecting to watch our men and theirs give back and forth.

The battle developed and the Scots light guns began to answer ours.  I saw Captain Harold thrown from his horse and, without thinking, I ran out onto the battle field like a squire to his knight in some joust.  All around me were men on careering horses and ahead of me was the advancing, impenetrable wall of pikes.  To the front, dismounted semi-armoured men hacked at the hedge of pikes but they could not knock them down to make an opening.  To my right and left, I saw small skirmishes between two or three of our men against more or less of theirs.  In one such group, Sir Andrew Flammack, bearing the King's banner, was heavily besieged.  I looked down and saw that most of Captain Harold's head had been blown clean away.

Sir Ralph Copinger had rushed from safety to aid Sir Andrew and the fight had veered in my direction.  I saw that they were struggling with five or six Scots and trying to make good their escape.  The two knights had hold of one end of the staff bearing the banner and three jeering men had hold of t'other end.  I grabbed up a fallen sword and rushed to their aid.

My first blow was taken on someone's shield and I danced back from a return blow.  My next stroke glanced of the lead Scot's armour and clean broke the shaft of the standard.  With that, the two gentlemen made good their retreat as others joined the fight in their defense.

The day was not ended but our cavalry had done what was needed.  We had slowed them down so that the Duke could position our guns.  Our soldiers had maneuvered into a ditch near the pikemen and fired their hackbutts into their lines. The Spaniards rode by and fired as they passed.  The Scottish pikes did not break but they were halted.  Then our cannon were ready and the day was all but ended.

The cannon fired hail shot into the ranks and there was little they could do but fall back.  As more and more of our guns fired the retreat became a rout and our soldier poured after the enemy killing when no more killing was needed.  I confess that I was one of those chasing after the Scottish troops for I was filled with anger at the loss of my friend Merwyn.  From this viewpoint in time, I was probably also angry with myself for not having been there beside him as he fell.  'Tis foolish to think it would have made any difference, but we were all in a foolish frame of mind.  At last, Lord Somerset had to send men out to call us off as one orders back a dog.

There were far too many dead and wounded on the battlefield. I did what I could to help and received some complements from the surgeons.  I was pleased but I now knew that I did not wish to see myself covered in blood, neither mine own nor that of others.  It was then as I turned away to the river, looking to wash myself, that I was seized and taken before the Duke.

The Duke stood in a clearing with his sword bared.  To either side of him stood Sir Ralph and Sir Andrew.  My guard brought me forward and made me kneel before Lord Somerset who then raised his sword.  I composed my mind to make my peace with God when I felt a tap on one shoulder and then the other and was bade to rise, now Sir Baržolimieu.  Now these great nobles did strike me on the shoulders and congratulate me.  Lord Somerset took me aside and commended my courage and skill in aiding the good knights who saved the King's banner.  He then bequeathed upon me the lands about Barrow House down to the sea and charged me to keep them well in his name and in the name of his successors.  He did not need to ask and I did not need to say that I was his servant to command from that day forward, obeying him in all things save only as His Majesty might command.

It turned out that the whole battle was for naught.  Queen Mary of Scotland had been sent off to France.  There was nothing Lord Somerset could do with the army that could affect that.  We went on to take Edinburgh and left a garrison there.  But, I was on my way to Barrow House and I admit I was more than curious as to how I would handle this change in my affairs.

I do swear this story gets longer each time I tell it and I must have told it a thousand times or more.  Do you grow weary, sir? Here is as good a place to stop as any.  Nay? You are sure? Well then, give me pause while I fill our cups again.

Part the Third

As I rode across England on my way to my new manor, I knew I needed help.  I hadn't the least practical knowledge of how to run such a place.  What I resolved to do was to seek me out the third son of some landed family willing to work as my foreman and representative in exchange for a fair portion of whatever profits might be had.  If I chose well, I knew I would soon have my lands well managed, my tenants satisfied, and contentment lying happily by every hearth.

My hearth, of course, was the other problem.  I had gone years past the time when I should have married and started a family.  Setting aside that I had not been so inclined before, it was now nearly mandatory that I do so.  I really needed someone to run my house and a wife is always best for that. As soon as I had seen what condition Barrow House was in, I would go looking for a young, handsome widow woman hopefully with some wealth attached.

It was late winter in fifteen hundred and forty-seven and I was twenty-four years in this world; not an ancient by any means but well ready to settle down in moderate comfort.  As they say, there is naught so likely to change your plans as the making of them.

When I arrived at Barrow House, I had already sent ahead to have the manor house prepared for me.  I was, therefore, greeted by the staff, marshalled out for me by the mistress of the place, Goodwife Candace Bark.  As I introduced myself, she offered me the keys but I asked her to keep them for me for the present.  She led me about the place and I was struck by several things: every part of the building was old but well kept, all the staff deferred to her willingly, Mistress Candace was very attractive, and she seemed to hate me on first sight.

After the tour, I asked her to call everyone together again. I congratulated them and her on the fine condition of the house and told them of my condition in life.  I expressed my wish that no one should consider this change as a reason for a severe alteration in their life and I stated that I should be very pleased if one and all would stay on.  'Twas after I spoke that last that I saw Mistress Candace smile for the first time that day.  I dismissed them and asked after the foreman.  I was told that he had left for Bristol with three men and a wagon to purchase seed and supplies for the spring -- this two days before the news of my coming.  I took with me one of the men of the house about my age, Philip, and with him as my guide, set off to see to the condition of my estate.

I had not gone far at all when it became clear that all was not near as well without the house as within.  The homes of the tenant farmers were in decent repair but they showed none of the detail that any man of pride lavishes on those things he uses.  Everything seemed too plain, too simple.  I had seen such before and it was no mystery to me.  I had seen it on the lands of a papist churchman who worked his tenants beyond their ability to care.  He had not been a bad man, just a man who took too much for what he deemed a good cause.

When we came upon the cottage of the blacksmith, I took down the skin of ale I had with.  Philip and I poured twixt ourselves and the smith the rest of that day for it seems the smith himself had a good keg of ale of his own brew.  I do believe I have never seen a man strike so often or so true for so long as did Timothy the Smith.  And, yet, with a five pound hammer in his hand and his ten year old son pumping at the bellows, he came near to drinking me under the table.  Of course, if there is a place where a working man can come to admire the work of a man, it is a smithy.  If naught else, 'tis a warm place on a cool afternoon.  It was not long ere I had met several more of my new tenants and the ale saw to our friendship.

The afternoon was fading and I knew I would be looked for at Barrow House.  Timothy helped me to my saddle -- nay, the fellow threw me down upon it -- and I and Philip made our way back.  I was grateful for the brisk air since it did much to sober me and save me the embarrassment of falling from my horse. That night the food was wholesome, the fire was warm, the bed was soft, and I arose gladly with the cock crow feeling that this place would be a fine home.

The foreman returned with his cronies the next day, I had already explored his cottage and had found the chest of coins which ought not to have been there.  As the man stepped down from the wagon, he found all that was his packaged by way side.  I introduced myself and took down the whip to explain, reasonably, why it was time for him to be seeking work elsewhere.  I apologized for my brevity and suggested that if he looked for a warmer greeting, he might merely wait for the brands to heat.  He seemed anxious not to tarry.  My only regret was for his poor wife and two children for who's sake I let him take a barrow for his household things.  His travelling companions decided to stay, which I allowed.

I spoke with the local elders and, afterward, Mistress Candace about the finding of a replacement.  The man turned out to be Jacob, the son of our forester.  Jacob had good sense but he could neither read nor write.  I offered him the position on condition that he would learn.  He accepted and I set him to putting things to order.  Soon, I had a clerk to keep our books and to teach us both better business.  In this way, the happy time of my life came to be.

I sent for my father and brothers but only my father came led by one of Gwilim's sons, Matthew.  He told me that all had considered my offer but could not bring themselves to leave all they had made to come here.  They thanked me for the offer and expressed gratitude that Da's last years would be comfortable.  I sent young Matthew back with four fine milch-cows and set my father up in as much comfort as he would tolerate.  He did seem to enjoy walking the beaches in warm weather and would occasionally point out a sapling to my groundsman that would make a good bow.  He also consented to teach some of his trade to our boyer who was happy of the advice and who's bows grew better by the day for it.  Soon, Da had a place in the workshop where he would mostly nap away the afternoons.

'Twas only two years later that King Edward did introduce the Book of Common Prayer.  This focused the arguments which had been seething since King Henry had thrown out the priests.  I mention this here because it did divide my people as well as the rest of England.

'Twas well and good," some said, "for a king to be a king and to have what he could have.  But, the church and the Pope were two different things.  Do not throw out the baby with the bath water!"

To which the others responded, "If the church and the Pope are two things then let us clean all of him from our faith. Do not throw out the bath water without bathing the baby!"

The truth of it was that those that felt more Catholic would not listen to those who felt more Protestant and the visee versee, too.  I cannot say that I cared overmuch for one side or t'other.  I liked hearing what I was praying, but what they said didn't sound like what prayer used to sound like.

In Cornwall there were riots that I feared the Duke might send me to help put down.  I was spared that.

It was about this time that I was asked to stand in judgement on Rohl Millerson the Tiler for the murder of Stephen Bark, Mistress Bark's husband.  It was not as if anyone was greatly angered at the killing.  The man was not well liked and lived largely off of his wife's pay and gave little back.  He had been a center of the papist view and it was a drunken argument on this topic that lead to his death.  We all had marveled at it for Stephen had been an enormously fat man weighing thirty stone if he weighed an once while Rohl had been one of the smallest men on the manor.  When he was taken with the fury of his faith and his judgement was taken by the drink, he managed to throw Stephen through a window where he broke his neck landing against a hitching post.  When all the facts came out before me I was angered that matters had gone so far as to cost a life even if accidentally.  Then, I remembered Cornwall.  I declared that hence forth on this manor the only religion was the religion of whomever sat on the throne of England.  Rohl had not done murder but had killed Stephen.  I took all that he had of value and gave it to Mistress Candace (which I later found she had given back to Rohl's wife) and ordered him lashed twenty-nine times by a strong man.  It was not a popular decision, but a man had died at the hand of another in a pointless dispute.  When the time came, I took the whip myself and bade the widow count the lashes aloud for us all.  To her credit, she did not cry halt till the eighteenth stroke though she faltered several times. I felt the lesson had been learned by us all and released Rohl to his family.

That night I cried myself to sleep.  The next day was very quiet about the manor house.  Six months later I asked Candace to be my wife.  One year after that we were wed.  We were planning on leaving for Florence when I heard that Lord Somerset had been taken away and was to be executed largely due to the influence of the Duke of Northumberland.  I and my lady made haste to London.

I left the manor in Jacob's hands.  We had prospered and I saw it mostly as his accomplishment though I had learned as much from him as he from his clerk.  There seemed no reason why he should not continue.

I arranged to see the Duke in his cell, it was clear that he was not being mistreated except for the simple fact of his imprisonment.  I begged him to show me how I might aid him but he was resolved to accept his fate and, after my first visit, would not see me again.  I made what little effort I could in this unfamiliar city but it was clear that there was naught I could do to aid him.  A week later, my new wife and I set sail for Florence, our joy tempered by the certain knowledge that he would be dead before we returned.

'Tis true, the world cannot remember much beyond a fortnight. at a time.

Finish your cup now in memory of the good Duke and I shall fill it again.  Come! I promise to finish this tale ere I fall off my seat or the cock crow -- which e're shall come the first.

Part the Fourth

The voyage was an interesting time for me and my not so blushing bride.  We learned a great deal about each other and our mutual respect became a fixed part of our lives.  She was clearly more than a woman deserving of the title of Lady. 'Twas she who gave me my middle name, Lyons, saying that as I was who I was I should have three names for the sake of my children if for no other reason.  I did protest it seemed somewhat presumptuous -- the name itself and adding it to my other two.  But, as I discovered throughout the rest of my life, a Lady of worth will have her way no matter what her knight may say.

Some of you unwed and sorry souls may take this last as sign that there is no good to come from marriage.  You would rule your own life for your own sake.  Let all others serve you. Women have but three functions: cooking, children, and church.  I tell you now, that just as you would be a fool not to recognize and reward quality work done by a servant, you would be remiss to fail to recognize the value of your lady if she is such a one of worth.  Have no fear, a Lady of worth will not oppose her knight for mere amusement.  As I did accept this, my life became both open and comfortably circumscribed.  So it is, I do recommend a Lady of worth.  God grant you the good fortune to find one.

Aboard ship there was a fencing master, Moses Lidelle on his way to study with the great Achille Marozzo in Bologna.  He was kind enough to instruct me in the Italian style of fence which I found most pretty and enjoyable.  I had my doubts about how useful it might be against a heavier weapon, but I did enjoy the lessons.  Master Lidelle did offer to instruct Lady Candace but she would none of it, saying 'twas my job to guard her honour and that she felt quite safe so long as the ship remained afloat,

My Lady, did have some real concerns as to floating ships and suffered easily from the sea sickness.  I have suffered it myself for short periods in heavy seas and I have laughed at it in companions.  But, my Lady's affliction was, after all, hers.  It pained me that I could not do more than oversee the mixing of the herbs from the barber-surgeon which helped to quiet her suffering on the bad days.  Fortunately, those days were not so common as to prevent us from enjoying the balance of the voyage and we came to Florence in good spirits.

Florence is a most beauteous city and I and my Lady did enjoy it well, Still, I must tell you a story that you will not credit, yet which I swear is true.  We were viewing the beauties of the architecture when my good lady wife was suddenly taken with a most prodigious blush and did shield her face with her fan and turn away.  I looked where she had been looking and saw that some boorish youth had climbed atop a plinth without the benefit of even a shred of clothing.

I shouted for him to cover himself but he paid me no heed. Suspecting that he did not understand the King's good English as few of these people seemed to do, I rushed forward drawing my blade ready to force him to obey.  It was only after I had shoved past several people that I did discover that what I had seen was a sculpture so much like life itself that the realization did take my breath completely away.  I made my way back to Lady Candace, apologizing profusely and blushing myself, nearly so deep as my Lady had done.  Finally, I did explain myself through the good services of my interpreter and was gratified to receive laughter and good will from all but one man wearing the robes of a Turk or some such heathen. He would not be assuaged and we did agree to meet the following day.  Two of those I had trod upon did agree then and there to serve as my seconds and we found ourselves invited to dinner for near the entire of our stay.

'Twas then I was told that the sculpture which had so fooled us was that of King David before he slew Goliath and had been made by one Michaelangelo a great master of the land and placed there some time before.  Now, neither Candace nor myself are prudes, but I assure you the naturalness of the pose and the skill of the execution did deceive us deeply.  I dare suggest, sir, that you would have made a similar mistake under similar circumstances.  My Lady and I do laugh about it now when e'er it is mentioned.

The next day, of course, was a more serious matter.  My seconds did advise me that my opponent would not be mollified and we met outside the city near an ancient cemetery.  We both stripped to the waist to assure that neither of us wore chain.  Then the seconds for both sides measured the blades and I found myself, for the first time, defending my life with a rapier.  I had, of course, played at this weapon aboard ship with Master Lidelle but, to be honest, I had not expected to have to use one in earnest.

It soon became clear that neither I nor my opponent were well versed in this weapon.  And, if the truth be known, neither of us did take well to the sniggers of those who stood by watching.  After our first passage when neither of us had scored, I gathered up my seconds and approached this moor.  I again apologized for my rudeness of the previous day and proposed a different contest.  I suggested that we both should fight with those weapons we knew till there was a clear victor.  That person would take the weapons of the other as spoil and vindication.  This clearly took his fancy and, after some discussion, we faced off he with scimitar and great curved knife and I with my back sword and off-hand blade.

I can tell you that the sniggers ended abruptly and that we both did put on a demonstration that would have won either of us our master's judgement had we played them as such.  The moor's attack was strange to me, always turning and spinning. As quick as I was then, I took a nick or two before I saw what he was doing and learned to counter his attack.  He on t'other hand, clearly had experience with turning the blows of my heavier weapon.  This second passage did go on for a week, or so I fancy at this far remove, but at the end we both stood panting, winded like horses at the end of a race.

If the victory were to be judged by the number of cuts, I should surely have lost that match and still been proud of it, but it had not been decided and we both knew it, So, after the attention of our seconds and a brief rest during which we shared a flask of fruit juice (he would none of wine), we set to it again.  This time I held my own having learned his ways and was prepared to show him some of the tricks I had learned aboard ship.  It was then I realized that I did not wish to beat him, that I wished him to be my friend.

So, I stepped back, knelt, and offered him my weapons.  He was somewhat taken aback then he realized what I had done and stepped forward to offer me his.  So, it was that we each went home with no serious damage and later even came to travel together.  Till his death, he wore my dagger and I still carry his great curved knife.

Over the next six months, my wife and I grew to love the people and the place and the countryside about it.  Many of the relationships that have made me a wealthy man were founded on that visit and many of those friends have consented to be entertained at Barrow House over the years. Still, the time had come to return to England, and I do not hesitate to confess that I was heartsore to return.

The year was fifteen hundred three and fifty.  Edward was dying, Lady Jane Gray would be Queen of England for only nine days, and Bloody Mary would all too soon sit on the throne of England.

'Tis midnight, sir.  It is my custom to spend a brief while in prayer, largely in memory of my father.  Will you accompany me to the chapel? It has no magnificence but it is a comforting place.

Part the Fifth

Of all the incidents of the coming of Queen Mary to the throne, I think the most sad were the nine days of Queen Jane.  I call her that though history shall not.  She was the choice of Edward to succeed him and when he died of consumption, she did step up to the throne.  Ten days later she found herself in the Tower of London.  Mary, who had been disenherited by Henry and Edward, had overcome her with scarcely any force of arms.  The country, it seems, did not much like Lady Jane as Queen for all she had been approved by the council.  There was no real fighting.

I had long before learned that my lands had been formerly part of a Catholic holding.  Queen Mary began immediately to court the papist church and King Philip.  I suppose so that both might enjoy dividing the good English countryside between Rome and Spain. Of course, I spoke no such thing -- then.

Had I not been on record that the official religion of Barrow House was that of the throne and had there been a churchman really interested in having it back, I suppose I should have lost it.  As it was the "taxes" nearly doubled.  Later, of course, we found out that noneof the nobles who had bought the monastery lands had exactly run forward to restore them to the church as the Queen had asked.

Up until this time, I don't think I really cared who ruled the church, king or pope.  But, our Queen Mary had set her heart upon removing the Protest-ants.  Her method of doing this was a stake and plenty of firewood.  This was the time when I discovered the advantage of having a holding with a modest harbour (at least at high tide.) There were several good men and their families who managed to leave England in some haste by way of my "smugglers cove." Most of them went to Scotland and, from there, some went to France.  Both Catholic countries which had not yet developed a desire to broil their Christian brethren.

It was by way of gratitude that I found myself partner in a sailing ship with Sir Percival Luwis.  That ship must have been pregnant for soon I and Sir Percival had four of the floating gold mines.  Throughout Queen Mary's reign most of my cargo actually landed at the docks at Bristol.  'Twas only a wagon load or so per ship that came direct to Barrow House; for our use only, I assure you.

This was also the time that I discovered that I had no head for business whatsoever and gratefully turned the whole matter over to my foreman Jacob Forester and his ever growing crew of clerks.  So, it was that through the good offices of those around me that I set out on the long weary road of becoming a gentleman of leisure.  This was all to begin in earnest after Her Majesty grew tired of burning her nobles and married the King of Spain, who, thankfully, could find no reason to stay o'er long upon English shores.  This, no doubt, bothered Bloody Mary but after five years as queen, she died, ending that well and true. After which, we all shouted "God save the Queen, Her Most Royal Majesty, Elizabeth Gloriana!" The times went from better to much better with the normal variations from war and plague.  At one point, I was pleased to lead a troop of men to fight in the low countries but it was an unsatisfactory campaign and I am not sure that any good came of it for either side.  I suspect we were there largely to upset Philip of Spain and to thwart the Pope and his Inquisition -- both good enough reasons, if men didn't need to die for't.

That was fifteen years ago now.  Since that time little has happened in my life save that it has become more comfortable. Only two things remain to mention: my honour from the City of Bristol and the curious behavior of my Lady Wife, Candace.

The honour from Bristol was, of course, my being invested as Master of the Gate.  It is an honour which I do not feel that I have earned but there it is.  True, there is no need for such a position.  The town militia are adequate and the constabulary handles most matters without recourse to the militia.  And Bristol has grown so much that it no longer even has a proper defensible wall nor requires one.  But, I am mindful of the honour and on ceremonial occasions I do try to present myself as if I were needed.

The matter of my wife, however, is past believing.  Well, I do believe it and I needs must ask you to believe it for it is the truth, at least through her eyes.  I would not have her disabused for it does no harm and, mayhap, may do some good.

No, I find I cannot bring myself to speak it to you.  It is no fault of you, good sir.  It is rather an embarrassment on my part.  Suffice it to say, sir, that should you see my Lady holding converse with a frog whom she addresses as Prince Henri and doth bear about the town.  I pray you, good sir, have the courtesy to speak her fair and honour her companion in some small way.  He doth present a pleasant enough appearance with his crown and such.  At times, I can bring myself to believe that the creature may, in fact, be the enchanted prince of the fairy tales.  If only she didn't insist that he is French.

Well, sir.  Do not forget your cloak.  The night has grown most chilly.  My coach will see you to your door.  Perhaps, this week-end, we shall meet at the faire and this time you, sir, shall have the chance to tell me your story.  Go with God, sir!

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