IX
RICHARD'S SILVER PENNY
HOW RICHARD SOLD A WEB OF RUSSET AND MADE THE BEST OF A BAD BARGAIN
Richard was going to market. He was rather a small boy to be going onthat errand, especially as he carried on his shoulder a bundle nearlyas big as he was. But his mother, with whom he lived in a little,whitewashed timber-and-plaster hut at the edge of the common, was tooill to go, and the Cloth Fair was not likely to wait until she was wellagain.
The boy could hardly remember his father. Sebastian Garland was asailor, and had gone away so long ago that there was little hope that hewould ever come back. Ever since Richard could remember they had livedas they did now, mainly by his mother's weaving. They had a few sheepwhich were pastured on the common, and one of the neighbors helped themwith the washing and shearing. The wool had to be combed and sorted andwashed in long and tedious ways before it was ready to spin, and beforeit was woven it was dyed in colors that Dame Garland made from plantsshe found in the woods and fields. She had been a Highland Scotch girl,and could weave tyrtaine, as the people in the towns called the plaids.None of the English people knew anything about the different tartansthat belonged to the Scottish clans, but a woman who could weave thosecould make woolen cloth of a very pretty variety of patterns. She workedas a dyer, too, when she could find any one who would pay for the work,and sometimes she did weaving for a farm-wife who had more than hermaids could do.
Richard knew every step of the work, from sheep-fleece to loom, andwherever a boy could help, he had been useful. He had gone to get elderbark, which, with iron filings, would dye black; he had seen oak barkused to dye yellow, and he knew that madder root was used for red, andwoad for blue. His mother could not afford to buy the turmeric, indigo,kermes, and other dyestuffs brought from far countries or grown ingardens. She had to depend on whatever could be got for nothing. Thebright rich colors which dyers used in dyeing wool for the London marketwere not for her. Yellow, brown, some kinds of green, black, gray anddull red she could make of common plants, mosses and the bark of trees.The more costly dyestuffs were made from plants which did not grow wildin England, or from minerals.
Richard was thinking about all this as he trudged along the lane, andthinking also that it would be much easier for them to get a living ifit were not for the rules of the Weavers' Guild. This association wasone of the most important of the English guilds of the twelfth century,and had a charter, or protecting permit, from the King, which gave themspecial rights and privileges. He had also established the Cloth Fair atSmithfield in London, the greatest of all the cloth-markets that were socalled. If any man did the guild "any unright or dis-ease" there was afine of ten pounds, which would mean then more than fifty dollars wouldto-day. Later he protected the weavers still further by ordaining thatthe Portgrave should burn any cloth which had Spanish wool mixed withthe English, and the weavers themselves allowed no work by candle-light.This helped to keep up the standard of the weaving, and to preventdishonest dealers from lowering the price by selling inferior cloth. Asearly as 1100 Thomas Cole, the rich cloth worker of Reading, whose wainscrowded the highway to London, had secured a charter from Henry I., thisKing's grandfather, and the measure of the King's own arm had been takenfor the standard ell-measure throughout the kingdom.
Richard knew all this, because, having no one else to talk to, hismother had talked much with him; and the laws of Scotland and Englanddiffered in so many ways that she had had to find out exactly what shemight and might not do. In some of the towns the weavers' guilds hadmade a rule that no one within ten miles who did not belong to the guildor did not own sheep should make dyed cloth. This was profitable to theweavers in the association, but it was rather hard on those who wereoutside, and not every one was allowed to belong. The English weaverswere especially jealous of foreigners, and some of their rules had beenmade to discourage Flemish and Florentine workmen and traders fromgetting a foothold in the market.
Richard had been born in England, and when he was old enough to earn aliving, he intended to repay his mother for all her hard and lonely workfor him. As an apprentice to the craft he could grow up in it and belongto the Weavers' Guild himself some day, but he thought that if therewere any way to manage it he would rather be a trader. He felt ratherexcited now as he hurried to reach the village before the bell shouldring for the opening of the market.
King's Barton was not a very big town, but on market days it seemed verybusy. There was an irregular square in the middle of the town, with across of stone in the center, and the ringing of this bell gave noticefor the opening and closing of the market. It was not always the samesort of market. Once a week the farmers brought in their cattle andsheep. On another day poultry was sold. In the season, there were cornmarkets and grass markets, for the crops of wheat and hay; and in everyEnglish town, markets were held at certain times for whatever wasproduced in the neighborhood. Everybody knew when these days came, andmerchants from the larger cities came then to buy or sell--on otherdays they would have found the place half asleep. In so small a townthere was not trade enough to support a shop for the sale of clothing,jewelry and foreign wares; but a traveling merchant could do very wellon market days.
When Richard came into the square the bell had just begun to ring, andthe booths were already set up and occupied. His mother had told him tolook for Master Elsing, a man to whom she had sometimes sold her cloth,but he was not there. In his stall was a new man. There was some tradebetween London and the Hanse, or German cities, and sometimes they sentmen into the country to buy at the fairs and markets and keep an eye ontrade. Master Elsing had been one of these, and he had always given afair price. The new man smiled at the boy with his big roll of cloth,and said, "What have you there, my fine lad?"
Richard told him. The man looked rather doubtful. "Let me see it," hesaid.
The cloth was a soft, thick rough web with a long furry nap. If it wasmade into a cloak the person who wore it could have the nap sheared offwhen it was shabby, and wear it again and shear it again until it wasthreadbare. A man who did this work was called a shearman or sherman.The strange merchant pursed his lips and fingered the cloth. "Commonstuff," he said, "I doubt me the dyes will not be fast color, and itwill have to be finished at my cost. There is no profit for me in it,but I should like to help you--I like manly boys. What do you want forit?"
Richard named the price his mother had told him to ask. There was anempty feeling inside him, for he knew that unless they sold that cloththey had only threepence to buy anything whatever to eat, and it wouldbe a long time to next market day. The merchant laughed. "You will nevermake a trader if you do not learn the worth of things, my boy," he saidgood-naturedly. "The cloth is worth more than that. I will give yousixpence over, just by way of a lesson."
Richard hesitated. He had never heard of such a thing as anybodyoffering more for a thing than was asked, and he looked incredulouslyat the handful of silver and copper that the merchant held out. "You hadbetter take it and go home," the man added. "Think how surprised yourmother will be! You can tell her that she has a fine young son--ConradWaibling said so."
Richard still hesitated, and Waibling withdrew the money. "You may askany one in the market," he said impatiently, "and if you get a betterprice than mine I say no more."
"Thank you," said Richard soberly, "I will come back if I get no otheroffer."
He took his cloth to the oldest of the merchants and asked him if hewould better Waibling's price, but the man shook his head. "More thanit is worth," he said. "Nobody will give you that, my boy." And fromtwo others he got the same reply. He went back to Waibling finally,left the cloth and took his price.
He had never seen a silver penny before. It had a cross on one side andthe King's head on the other, as the common pennies did; it was rathertarnished, but he rubbed it on his jacket to brighten it. He thoughthe would like to have it bright and shining when he showed it to hismother. All the time that he was sitting on a bank by the roadside,a little way out of the t
own, eating his bread and cheese, he waspolishing the silver penny. A young man who rode by just then, with ablack-eyed young woman behind him, reined in his horse and looked downwith some amusement. "What art doing, lad?" he asked.
"It's my silver penny," said Richard. "I wanted it to be fine and bonnyto show mother."
"Ha!" said the young man. "Let's see." Richard held up the penny. "Whogave you that, my boy?"
"Master Waibling the cloth-merchant," said Richard, and he told thestory of the bargain.
The young man looked grave. "Barbara," he said to the girl, "art anxiousto get home? Because I have business with this same Waibling, and I wantto find him before he leaves the town."
The girl smiled demurely. "That's like thee, Robert," she said. "Eversince I married thee,--and long before, it's been the same. I won'thinder thee. Leave me at Mary Lavender's and I'll have a look about hergarden."
The two rode off at a brisk pace, and Richard saw them halt at a gatenot far away, and while the girl went in the man mounted his horse againand came back. "Jump thee up behind me, young chap," he ordered, "andwe'll see to this. The silver penny is not good. He probably got it insome trade and passed it off on the first person who would take it. Lookat this one."
Edrupt held up a silver penny from his own purse.
"I didn't know," said Richard slowly. "I thought all pennies werealike."
"They're not--but until the new law was passed they were well-nighanything you please. You see, this penny he gave you is an old one.Before the new law some time, when the King needed money very badly,--inStephen's time maybe--they mixed the silver with lead to make it gofurther. That's why it would not shine. And look at this." He took outanother coin. "This is true metal, but it has been clipped. Some thieftook a bag full of them probably, clipped each one as much as he dared,passed off the coins for good money, and melted down the parings ofsilver to sell. Next time you take a silver penny see that it is purebright silver and quite round."
By this time they were in the market-place. Edrupt dismounted, and gaveRichard the bridle to hold; then he went up to Waibling's stall, but themerchant was not there.
"He told me to mind it for him," said the man in the next booth. "Hewent out but now and said he would be back in a moment."
But the cloth-merchant did not come back. The web of cloth he had boughtfrom Richard was on the counter, and that was the only important pieceof goods he had bought. Quite a little crowd gathered about by the timethey had waited awhile. Richard wondered what it all meant. PresentlyEdrupt came back, laughing.
"He has left town," he said to Richard. "He must have seen me before Imet you. I have had dealings with him before, and he knew what I woulddo if I caught him here. Well, he has left you your cloth and the priceof the stuff, less one bad penny. Will you sell the cloth to me? I am awool-merchant, not a cloth-merchant, but I can use a cloak made of goodhomespun."
Richard looked up at his new friend with a face so bright with gratitudeand relief that the young merchant laughed again. "What are you going todo with the penny?" he asked the boy, curiously.
"I'd like to throw it in the river," said Richard in sudden wrath. "Thenit would cheat no more poor folk."
"They say that if you drop a coin in a stream it is a sign you willreturn," said Edrupt, still laughing, "and we want neither Waibling norhis money here again. Suppose we nail it up by the market-cross for awarning to others? How would that be?"
This was the beginning of a curious collection of coins that might beseen, some years later, nailed to a post in the market of King's Barton.There were also the names of those who had passed them, and in time,some dishonest goods also were fastened up there for all to see. WhenRichard saw the coin in its new place he gave a sigh of relief.
"I'll be going home now," he said. "Mother's alone, and she will bewanting me."
"Ride with me so far as Dame Lavender's," said the wool-merchantgood-naturedly. "What's thy name, by the way?"
"Richard Garland. Father was a sailor, and his name was Sebastian," saidthe boy soberly. "Mother won't let me say he is drowned, but I'm afraidhe is."
"Sebastian Garland," repeated Edrupt thoughtfully. "And so thy mothermakes her living weaving wool, does she?"
"Aye," answered Richard. "She's frae Dunfermline last, but she was bornin the Highlands."
"My wife's grandmother was Scotch," said Edrupt absently. He was tryingto remember where he had heard the name Sebastian Garland. He setRichard down after asking him where he lived, and took his own way homewith Barbara, his wife of a year. He told Barbara that the town was wellrid of a rascal, but she knew by his silence thereafter that he wasthinking out a plan.
"Some day," he spoke out that evening, "there'll be a law in the land topunish these dusty-footed knaves. They go from market to market cheatingpoor folk, and we have no hold on them because we cannot leave our work.But about this lad Richard Garland, Barbara, I've been a-thinking. Whatif we let him and his mother live in the little cottage beyond thesheepfold? The boy could help in tending the sheep. If they've had sheepo' their own they'll know how to make 'emselves useful, I dare say. Andthen, when these foreign fleeces come into the market, the dame couldhave dyes and so on, and we should see what kind o' cloth they make."
This was the first change in the fortunes of Richard Garland and hismother. A little more than a year later Sebastian Garland, now captainof Master Gay's ship, the _Rose-in-June_, of London, came into port andmet Robert Edrupt. On inquiry Edrupt learned that the captain had losthis wife and son many years before in a town which had been swept by theplague. When he heard of the Highland-born woman living in the Longleycottage, he journeyed post-haste to find her, and discovered that shewas indeed his wife, and Richard his son. By the time that Richard wasold enough to become a trader, a court known as the Court of Pied-poudreor Dusty Feet had been established by the King at every fair. Itspurpose was to prevent peddlers and wandering merchants from cheatingthe folk. The common people got the name "Pie-powder Court," but thatmade it none the less powerful. King Henry also appointed itinerantjustices--traveling judges--to go about from place to place andjudge according to the King's law, with the aid of the sheriffs ofthe neighborhood who knew the customs of the people. The generalinstructions of these courts were that when the case was between a richman and a poor man, the judges were to favor the poor man until andunless there was reason to do otherwise. The Norman barons, coming froma country in which they had been used to be petty kings each in his ownestate, did not like this much, but little the King cared for that.Merchants like young Richard Garland found it most convenient to haveone law throughout the land for all honest men. Remembering his own hardboyhood, Richard never failed to be both just and generous to a boy.
In the Days of the Guild Page 18
