The Colloquies of Edward Osborne, Citizen and Clothworker of London

So we left the old grey Horse at the Tabard, and set forth a-foot, my Mother and me, for London Bridge: I looking right and left for a Glimpse of the great, broad River. But no Water could we see; and the Ways were thronged with Men, Horses, Carts, Wagons, Flocks of Sheep, and Droves of Oxen, pressing along between Stalls set out with all manner of Cates. Anon we come to a big Gateway, with its Portcullis-teeth grinning over our Heads; and a-top of this Gateway, that was flanked with Turrets, and spanned the Road, were ever so many round, dark Objects, set on Poles, leaning this Way and that; and my Mother shuddered when she saw them, and told me they were Traitors' Heads. But between us and this Gateway lay a Draw-bridge, the which, as we crossed, gave us a Glimpse of the broad Thames, all a-blaze in the Sun. I pluckt at my Mother's Sleeve, without speaking, and we looked over the Parapet, and could see Boats ducking and diving under a Row of Houses right across the River, some of 'em six Stories high, with Balconies and projecting Gables, looking ready to topple into the Water, that rushed onward with tremendous Force, eddying and foaming among the Arches. Then I noted at the Foot of each Pier, strange Projections of Timber-work, and askt my Mother what they were, and she could not tell me. But a Man that overheard me said they were called Sterlings, and were strong Piles of Wood driven into the Bed of the River. Also he told me the Bridge was sixty Feet above the Water, and that its Founder, Peter of Colechurch, lay y-buried in the Chapel on the Bridge; and more he would have added but for the Interposure of my Mother, who said, "Come, Child, we linger," and drew me away. Then we passed under the Gateway, which was also a Kind of Guard-house, and Toll-gate; and, quod she, "Now thou art on London Bridge." But I should never have found it out; for to all Seeming, we were in midst of an ill-paved, exceeding narrow Strete, only some twelve Feet across, with Frippery-shops, and such-like on either Side. A great, o'erloaded Wagon that went first, cleared the Way for us, filling the Space all across; but anon it meeteth another Wagon, even higher than itself, with a Terrier barking a-top; and, the one essaying to pass the other, their Headgear got entangled in the Outworks of the upper Stories of two opposite Houses, and I saw the Terrier jump into an Attick Window, and presently run forth of the Shop below. Then the Wagoners chode and reviled, for one of 'em must needs back off the Bridge, and some Sheep and Oxen were coming up behind; and the Foot-passengers jostled and jibed, and Shopkeepers looked forth of their Doors, and Wives and Maids from their Lattices, and Swarms of quick-eyed mischievous favoured Lads peered forth of every Bulk; and my Mother cried, "Oh! weary on them! we may bide here all Night!" ... when, looking hard on the Shop to our left, she sayth, "Why here's the Golden Fleece!"

And so we made bold to enter, between a few Rolls of brown and gray Cloth; and found Master Hewet seated behind a Desk, holding a Pen, but not using it, discoursing with a sober-apparelled Friend, and ever and anon casting a quiet amused Look at the Turmoil on the Bridge. He was what I then counted a middle-aged, but should now reckon a youngish Man, somewhere betwixt thirty and forty Years of Age, of a good Presence and a piercing but pleasant Eye; and with that in his Carriage and Looks that discovered he had Something within him beyond the common, that tended to excite Affection and Veneration. So soon as his Eye lighted pleasantly upon us, "Surely, thou art the Widow Osborne!" quod he to my Mother, "and this, by his Favour, I am sure is the Son of mine old School-mate. He will, I trust, prove of as good Conditions."

And, putting down his Pen, he quickly led the Way into a pleasant Chamber at the Back, o'erlooking the River, wherein, a watering of some Flowers on the Window-sill, was a middle-aged Gentlewoman, clad in Black, of a benign Aspect, a mild hazel Eye, and a Tinct that had more of the Pearl than the Peach in it. "Sister Fraunces," quod Master Hewet, "here is Mistress Osborne;" whereon the Gentlewoman turned about and spake courteouslie unto my Mother, whom she made to sit down and take Wine and Spiced-bread; while I, as a mannerly Youth, stood in Presence of mine Elders. Then sayth my Mother to Master Hewet, "I come, Sir, in answer to your considerate Letter, to put my Boy in your Charge:—he's but country-bred, though a good Lad, and come of a good Stock ... not only born of a Woman, but taught of a Woman, alas that I should say so! save for his School-teaching." "Marry, his Brother-prentice, then, is one of another Feather," saith Master Hewet, smiling, "we shall see which turns out best. Leave your Son with me; and at the End of a Month or so, when he hath looked at the Trade a little, we will decide whether or no to have him bound." "Alas, Sir!" saith my Mother, with lengthened Face, "may not all be done now? I have two small Children at Home, mine Absence is untimeous, and Travelling is strange to me—I have the Fee ready, the Boy is willing, and you cannot choose but be satisfied with his Conditions, for the Lad is a good Lad, though 'tis his Mother that says so."

"Well," saith Master Hewet, after a little Thought, "the Course is uncommon, for we mainly like to prove a Youth and see whether he be likely to do Good at the Trade, and be a profitable and desirable Apprentice before we bind him; but since your Case is in some Respects singular, it shall be as you say; for, as it happens, this is one of the Days on which the Court and Master sit to bind and enroll 'Prentices." So forth we went: he making Way for my Mother, and I following last.

On our Way to Mincheon Lane, we fell in with an uproarious Rabble, that, with Shouts, were haling Somewhat through the Mud, which proved to be a Church Image; doubtless, just pulled down from its Niche. The Head was rare carven, and floridly painted after the Life; but the Trunk was nothing but a squared Block, with a Cross-piece for the Shoulders, and looked pitiful enow, now 'twas despoiled of its rich Clothing. An Ale-house Keeper at the Bridge end turned in-doors with Disgust at the Sight, which some of the Rabblement noting, they cried out, "Here's a Bone for you to pick, Sir Tobias!" and beset his Door. I afterwards learned he was an ejected Roman Catholic Parson.

When we reached the Clothworkers' Hall, the Clerk made out my Indentures; and then I was taken before the Master to be enrolled.

My Mother having paid the Fee, (Spoon-silver they jocosely called it,) unto Master Hewet, he did not pocket it, but put it into the Common-box: and the Business was done; my Master exchanging some pleasant Words with the Master of the Company, and the latter bidding me (in the only Sentence he spoke to me), mind the Clothworkers' Motto,—"_My Trust is in God alone_."

Then, my Mother and I took Leave of one another, aside, as 'twere, in the Doorway; for she was to lie that Night in Temstrete, at her Cousin Hale's, (who was a Broughton,) and return to Ashford on the Morrow. And she kissed me and wept sore, and sayth, "Ah Son, thou art full young to be cast out of the Nest ... fain I were to keep thee: but what though? Thou canst not always be at mine Apron-string, and thou hast a brave Spirit and a good Heart; wherefore, like Hannah, Wife of Elkanah, I will entrust my First-born unto the LORD, and see what he will do for thee.... And remember, Ned, thou art the Son of a Gentleman, and think the Eye of thy Father still upon thee."

Then quod I, in answer to my Mother, "Cheer up, sweet Mother, I will never disgrace him nor thee: so give over thy weeping, lest they should deem the Tears on my Face to be mine instead of thine ... don't melt me, Mother, lest they count me but a Boy, and make light of our Country Breeding."

"A Boy, indeed! What art thou more?" quod she, smiling through her Tears; and with one hearty Kiss and her Blessing, went her Ways.

On our Return to my Master's House, he, noting my Hair to be too long for a 'Prentice, (for, indeed, my Mother was rather vain of it,) gave me a Penny, and sent me to Master Soper the Barbitonsor, across the Bridge, to have it clipt. Here found I a Man having his Beard trimmed, and another, waiting for his Turn, playing a Mandoline. Seeing me look forth of the Lattice on the River, boiling and splashing below, and the Boats shooting the Arches and nearly pitching Head foremost down the Fall, he stayed his Hand, and told me how many Lives were lost in those Rapids by the Year. Then I made bold to ask him what was that great Fortress with Towers, on the north Bank.

"Thou art a Stranger in London, then," saith he, "for every Cockney knows the Tower, whose foundation Stones were cemented, they say, with Mortar tempered with Blood. And truly, Blood enow hath been spilt within it to bring a Judgment on its Walls. Henry the Sixth was murdered in the Tower, George of Clarence was drowned in the Tower, Edward the Fifth and Richard Duke of York, those pretty Innocents, were smothered in the Tower, Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard were beheaded in the Tower. And, for all it hath held a King's Parliament, and is our Citadel of Defence, a royal Palace for Assemblies, a Council-house for Treaties, a Treasury of Crown Jewels, the royal Mint of Coinage, the prime Conservator of Records, and the Armoury of warlike Provisions, yet, for the Tears and the Blood that have been shed in it, I could say, Down with it, down with it even unto the Ground! And methinks its evil Story is not yet wound up, but that a dark Cloud hangs over it e'en now. We shall see! we shall see! Many an ignoble Man rises aloft, many a proud Man is brought low. 'Tis time enough at one's Life's end to sing Gloria. Ah! our Bridge Tower, whereof I am Gate-keeper, hath another guess Foundation than Cæsar's; for on every one of its four Corner-stones is graven the Name of JESUS; deep, but out of Sight."

And he peered into my Face as he spake that Saying, to wit if I felt its Force.

"And now my Turn hath come to be trimmed," quod he, "so thou mayst thrum the Mandoline."

When I went back, there was a Man with a Burthen leaving the Shop; and my Master saith, "Follow this Porter to Master Askew's in Candlewickstrete, and bring home my little Daughter, who hath been spending the Forenoon at her Godfather's." So I went with the Porter, and on reaching Candlewickstrete, which was not full of Tallow-chandlers' Shops, but of Drapers, he shewed me Master Askew's House; and I entered and found him in Parley with a Man in a red Coat. Quod he, "Well, I suppose my Lord must have it, but I like not the Security;" and handed him over a heavy Bag that seemed full of Money. Said the Man in Red, stowing the Bag under his Coat, "You were best not offend my Lord, for I warrant the Loss of his Custom would make you the worse by a pretty Penny." "Tut!" cries the other, "we could better afford to lose the Court than the Court to lose the City." On which, they parted. "Who art thou, my Lad?" quod he. "I'm my Master's new 'Prentice," quod I, "come to fetch Mistress Anne." "Ah!" quod he, "then you're from Master Hewet, though you speak as if there were but one Master in the World.... Anne! sweet Anne!"