A Forgotten Hero | Page 2

the nineteenth, must be obeyed?
Clarice was on the brink of high promotion. By means of a ladder of
several steps--a Dame requesting a Baroness, and the Baroness
entreating a Countess--the royal lady had been reached at last, whose
husband was the suzerain of Sir Gilbert. It made little difference to this
lady whether her bower-women were two or ten, provided that the
attendance given her was as much as she required; and she readily
granted the petition that Clarice La Theyn might be numbered among
those young ladies. The Earl of Cornwall was the richest man in
England, not excepting the King. It may be added that, at this period,
Earl was the highest title known short of the Prince of Wales. The first
Duke had not yet been created, while Marquis is a rank of much later
date.
Dame La Theyn, though she had some good points, had also one grand
failing. She was an inveterate gossip. And it made no difference to her
who was her listener, provided a listener could be had. A spicy dish of
scandal was her highest delight. She had not the least wish nor
intention of doing harm to the person whom she thus discussed. She
had not even the slightest notion that she did any. But her
bower-maidens knew perfectly well that, if one of them wanted to put
the dame in high good-humour before extracting a favour, the best way
to do so was to inform her that Mrs Sheppey had had words with her
goodman, or that Dame Rouse considered Joan Stick i' th' Lane [Note
1], no better than she should be.
An innocent request from Clarice, that she might know something
about her future mistress, had been to Dame La Theyn a delightful
opportunity for a good dish of gossip. Reticence was not in the Dame's
nature; and in the thirteenth century--and much later than that--facts

which in the nineteenth would be left in concealment, or, at most, only
delicately hinted at, were spoken out in the plainest English, even to
young girls. The fancy that the Countess of Cornwall might not like her
whole life, so far as it was known, laid bare to her new bower-woman
was one which never troubled the mind of Dame La Theyn. Privacy, to
any person of rank more especially, was an unknown thing in the
Middle Ages.
"Thou must know, Clarice," began the Dame, "that of old time, before
thou wert born, I was bower-maiden unto my most dear-worthy Lady
of Lincoln--that is brother's wife to my gracious Lady of Gloucester,
mother unto my Lady of Cornwall, that shall be thy mistress. The Lady
of Lincoln, that was mine, is a dame of most high degree, for her father
was my Lord of Saluces, [Note 2], in Italy--very nigh a king--and she
herself was wont to be called `Queen of Lincoln,' being of so high
degree. Ah, she gave me many a good gown, for I was twelve years in
her service. And a good woman she is, but rarely proud--as it is but like
such a princess should be. I mind one super-tunic she gave me, but half
worn,"--this was said impressively, for a garment only half worn was
considered a fit gift from one peeress to another--"of blue damask, all
set with silver buttons, and broidered with ladies' heads along the
border. I gave it for a wedding gift unto Dame Rouse when she was
wed, and she hath it now, I warrant thee. Well! her lord's sister, our
Lady Maud, was wed to my Lord of Gloucester; but stay!--there is a
tale to tell thee thereabout."
And Dame La Theyn bit off her thread with a complacent face. Nothing
suited her better than a tale to tell, unless it were one to hear.
"Well-a-day, there be queer things in this world!"
The Dame paused, as if to give time for Clarice to note that very
original sentiment.
"Our Lady Maud was wed to her lord, the good Earl of Gloucester,
with but little liking of her side, and yet less on his. Nathless, she made
no plaint, but submitted herself, as a good maid should do--for mark
thou, Clarice, 'tis the greatest shame that can come to a maiden to set

her will against those of her father and mother in wedlock. A good
maid--as I trust thou art--should have no will in such matters but that of
those whom God hath set over her. And all love-matches end ill,
Clarice; take my word for it! Art noting me?"
Clarice meekly responded that the moral lesson had reached her. She
did not add whether she meant to profit by it. Probably she had her own
ideas on the question, and it is quite possible that they did not