CHAPTER V. THE BUILDING OF A ROYAL MAUSOLEUM, AND A SCENE AT THE PILGRIMS' HOSTEL IN SOUTHWARK. Then munte I me forth the MINSTER to nowen: Though the tax of ten year were truly ygathered PIERCE PLOUGHMAN'S CRede. Divers men and women will go thus after their own willes. and fyndyng out one pilgrimage.—And if these men and women be a moneth in their pilgrimage, many of them shall be an half-year after great janglers, tale-tellers and lyers. THE STATE TRIALS. SOME ten days passed away ere I betook me unto London, to make the Dutchess Margaret's offering at Bermondsey abbey; at the which I did not linger, for that the Lady Bride was no longer dwelling there; and so that fair and stately house seemed unto me like a blank and gloomy void, since all that had given life or light unto its walls was then far distant, either in the royal towers of Windsor, or the shades of some holy convent which was unto me unknown. I made the Lady Margaret's last offering at the abbey of 7 St. Peter at Westminster; hastening thither with what speed I might, having a full intent to convey me again into France so soon as I should have performed the same, for that all I did regard as dear unto me in England, was now parted from me for ever. Upon coming forth from the abbey, I went me round unto the eastern end thereof, to behold the foundations of that most stately chapel which Harry Tudor had at this time newly begun there, for the burial place of King Henry VI. as he affirmed, though indeed it was rather for the interment of his own body. Whilst I was looking thereon, an aged and venerable monk, holding a scroll of vellum, and clothed in the black habit of the Benedictine order, drew nigh unto the spot where I was standing, as though he were about to ; enter within the barriers of the building; and as he fixed his eyes upon me full steadfastly in passing by me, the unwonted custom of my youth suddenly returned unto me, and I accosted him, -albeit I know not why, with our ancient convent-greeting of "Benedicite me, Pater," which I had learned to address unto mine elders at Ely Monastery. Upon this he gazed at me more earnestly than before, and replied with the common response of "Fili mi, Dominus sit vobiscum;" the which seeming unto me like a pleasant gale from the country of my youth, I again answered with "Et tecum quoque, Reverendissime," at the same time making him the courteous antè and retrò reverence,* which had been taught *This was a peculiar manner of bowing by the monks, when they entered or left the choir; receiving its name from me in my boyhood: for, as I knew that churchmen of high estate were ofttimes great and wondrous builders, I knew not of what rank he might be whom I thus saluted, though such reverence should be paid only to an abbot or prior. Howbeit, he declined with great lowliness the honour which I did thus offer him, saying, "Nay, my son, this salutation belongeth not unto me; for I am not the Lord Abbot of Westminster, for whom, questionless, you do mistake me. Do you seek speech with him?” "No, in good sooth, father," returned I, "but your voice and words sounded unto me so like what I did ofttimes hear when a youth in St. Mary's monastery at Ely, that I could not choose but answer and bow me as I did." "A youth, saidst thou, in St. Mary's monastery in Ely?" rejoined the monk, "methought thy visage was not unknown to me, for I also am of that house. Had it not been reported that one Richard Fitz-Richard, who some seventeen years since, was a pupil there, was slain at the battle of Bosworth, I should full surely deem that thou wert he." "And in good sooth I am none other, most venerable father," returned I, "whom, on my part, I take to be the pious and learned Austin, the master of the novices, to whose care I owed their bending firstly antè, or to the altar before them, and then retrò or behind, to the abbot at the bottom of the choir. In making this bow, the back was to be lower than the loins, and the heak than the back, which motion was considered as particularly graceful; the antè and retrò reverence was in general made only to the abbot and prior. so much in mine early youth; and who would have made me far wiser than I am, had I been but as willing to learn as thou wert to teach." "Alas! my son," responded the good Father Austin, for it was in truth no other than he, “alas! we be all alike blameworthy therein; seeing that divine wisdom is for ever freely held out unto us, and yet the best of us desire not so full a blessing as the bounty of heaven would pour into our bosoms. How well, therefore, said the wisest of men, Sapientia foris prædicat, Wisdom discourseth in the streets, and yet do we never regard her." 66 "I perceive, good father," responded I hereunto, "that you remain unaltered, inasmuch as your every speech is still full of blended charity and instruction; but may I crave of your discretion to tell me how you are employed at this chapel." "Truly, good Richard," answered the monk, "that will I readily show you; so pass with me within the barriers, and mark well these foundations, on which, 'si Dominus voluerit,' if the Lord be willing, as the blessed 'postle James doth well teach us to say in all that we purpose to do hereafter, there shall be raised so glorious an edifice, that I trow it shall be the marvel of distant generations, and earth shall have nought worthy of being placed beside it." I did now follow the good monk into the spacious works of that wondrous chapel of our lady at Westminster, which is called by Henry's name, and whereof, at the time I do now write of, the first stone had been but lately posited: it being done, as a legend thereupon cut did declare in Latin, on Wednesday, the 24th day of January, in this very year 1503, at a quarter before three of the clock in the afternoon. The same was set in its place by Harry Tudor, the Lady Margaret his mother, Abbot John Islip of Westminster, Sir Reginald Bray, and others. Of these last two I would here note that they were both most rare builders; the one having also reared him a chapel in the abbey at Westminster, the which is full thickly studded with devices of his name carved in stone and for the other, it was he who built a kingdom for Richmond, since he found my Father's coronet on the field of Bosworth; when the Lord Stanley, giving away that which he had no right in, made Harry a king by setting it upon his head. Nevertheless, this Sir Reginald was a most skilful workman, and is ofttimes said in story to have been the only deviser of the chapel at Westminster, because he was comptroller of the royal works and buildings; but I wot well that Father Austin told and showed me at this time, that the plat of the whole was drawn forth by the pious and learned John Alcock, bishop of Ely, also a master of those works, before his death, the which plat was then given unto the chief masons of that place. They were to edify the same by written indenture with Father William Bolton, the prior of St. Bartholomew's, made master of the works in the forenamed chapel upon the death of Bishop Alcock and Sir Reginald Bray; and by him was it brought unto a fair conclusion some fourteen years |