feather
Month: April 2015
time out with grandad
time out with your
step grandad
only Christmas days
unwrapping action man
and hot wheels to bind us
from asphalted pit lane
beside The Barley Sheaf
we walked left into scrub
“What are you doing at school now.”
“Egyptians”
I carry the minibeast book
I bought to help us.
“Don’t think we’ll find
any Scarab Beatles, today”
No expression.
I lift damp wood
for signs of life
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darklap
Strange Manvers Lake, Spring 2015
An Apt Fifteenth Century Murder Mystery: A Cup.of Easter Ale (1531)
How did Henry Wombwell die?
&
1531 in the reign of Henry VIII , Deposition of Sir Richard Tempest, aged 52, ( died 1537 in prison after supporting the Pilgrimage of Grace)
A year before his death
Henry Wombwell with
William Grene, Christopher Husteler
and Edward Lee came
to Bolling Hall to see me
and Henry said to me
“I desire you to be
a good master
and friend unto me
for I have my lands
and goods so ordered
I cannot help myself
I am put in jeopardy
of my life and fear
to continue without
your help” or suchlike.
He told me “I was put
in a chamber in my own
house, and kept there
and if Stansfield had not
broken down the door
I would have been destroyed.
William Grene helped free me
and he is feared to be slain
and would have peace
and remedy.”
And again four months
before he died at London
he told me
“I pray you be a good master
to me, and help me
for I am in such trouble
and fear for my life,
I dare not go home,
for I have made state
and reserved money
and cannot bring all things
to good purpose, that I
am afraid to go home
for fear of poisoning.
No, I will not go there.”
And I told him “Go home.
Speak with your friends,
see your lands and goods,
and if afterwards you are
in any fear I shall come
to you and be with you
and give him his board
until he was further
in his designs.”
He replied ” I durst not,
I will not go home”
Henry left and stayed
with Stansfield who told me
Henry told him “I durst not
go home.”
I heard no more
unto Easter week
when John More
came to me
and told me:
“Henry is sick
and has been poisoned
and you shall never see him”
Thomas Upton arrived
and told me: “My master
desires you to pray
for him. My master says
Elizebeth Grene has
poisoned him, and
that you should be told
that she might be punished”
*************
Testimony of Thomas Shepherd, aged 50 or there about, tenant of Henry Wombwell
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Henry was gone
to London in Hillary term
before his death
Katerin, Henry’s wife
discharged me
from ground
I had taken
from Henry by indenture.
I desired her
to be good to me
all be it she would not
be contented therewith.
Upon Henry’s return
from London
my ground was returned.
But Kateren drove
my beasts
away from my ground again.
I went to Henry
who was staying
at Mexborough
and said
I should have my closes returned,
and asked why
come ye not home?
Henry staying at Mexborough
almost two years
said to me
‘I durst not come
as I fear poisoning’
Afterwards Elezabeth came
to Henry and said
‘My mistress will never lie
with you. She will go
to York and be divorced from you.’
Afterwards Henry commanded
me to go and gather his rent.
Kateren came to my close
and because I was still
there killed one
of my sheep.
Easter Day,
Mass over
Henry and Katerin rode
home passing
my Close
my wife
Bade good morrow
Henry bade same
Katerin none.
Easter day afternoon
at one Bradley’s home
I waited for Henry
who was at evensong.
I over heard Richard Lumby,
servant to one John More
Say ‘Kateren said
Ay, Roger
I love not
I shall have my will
both of thy master
and Shepherd.’
Henry dead
Katerin sent word
that I leave.
*************
The Sayings of Elisabeth Green
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I, Elisabeth Green,
servant
to mistress Kateren,
master Henry’s wife
dwelled with master Henry
quarter of a year
before his death
I was at Mexburgh
with my mistress Kateren
when one Husteler
came to me and said
Henry would have me
come to him.
I told mistress Kateren
of it, who bade
me go to him,
and so I did.
When I got there
I told my master Henry
that for his worship
he needed to come
home at Easter,
and so he did.
At that time
I said no more to him,
but told him how
Shepherd had treated
Kateren evilly,
and therewith
Henry was angry at him.
Sir William Gascoignes servant
has laid rotten
bread in the house
at Shrovetide before.
Master Henry’s complained
himself sick at Mass
or at Easter day,
I cannot remember which
and I sat at table end
with him
and mistress at supper
of Easter day last past
and he desired me
to fetch him
a drink,
and so I did;
Ralph Metcalf
was not there,
at the time.
My master had no more
drink at supper
and one of Henry’s
children and Ralph Metcalf
drank of the same cup
and I knew not
Master was sick
before Monday,
but neighbours said
he was sick in the town
at afternoon,
I never asked him
for forgiveness and
he offered to kiss me
diverse times
when he lay sick,
and I sat on his bed
and I asked how he was
and he said well
and Thomas Upton
said he will do well
if I lay down,
at his back,
I was not content.
*************
Deposition of Thomas Kitson of Mexburgh,
aged about 50
Henry boarded at my house
for about two year
A neighbour said to me
You’ll get hurt
if you don’t get rid
of master Henry.’
I told my wife,
who told Master Wombwell.
Wombwell was with me
six weeks after that,
and went of his own
freewill back home.
I heard no more.
Elisabeth Green came
three or four times
to our house to drink
with us and made merry
in an honest manner,
never otherwise.
to her master,
I did see Elisabeth there
one time, but we
never spoke
and never knew
my master never
loved her nor
favoured her.
Henry staying at Mexborough
almost two years
said to me
‘I durst not come
as I fear poisoning’
Afterwards Elezabeth came
to Henry and said
‘My mistress will never lie
with you. She will go
to York and be divorced from you.’
Afterwards Henry commanded
me to go and gather his rent.
Kateren came to my close
and because I was still
there killed one
of my sheep.
Easter Day,
Mass over
Henry and Katerin rode
home passing
my Close
my wife
Bade good morrow
Henry bade same
Katerin none.
Easter day afternoon
at one Bradley’s home
I waited for Henry
who was at evensong.
I over heard Richard Lumby,
servant to one John More
Say ‘Kateren said
Ay, Roger
I love not
I shall have my will
both of thy master
and Shepherd.’
Henry dead
Katerin sent word
that I leave.
**************
Henry’s thoughts of Calf’s Head during Easter Evensong
Lent fasted and only fish to eat.
all Henry’s head during evensong
is filled with imagining
the making of the meal
and feast at Nicholas Gorrels
after the Latin service.
Take a calves head,
cleave it
take out brains, skins, blood
steep them and head
in fair warm water 4 or 5 hours,
shift them three or four times
The angels asked of the three priests dressed as women. ‘Whom do you seek in the tomb?’
cleanse head; boil brains,
make a pudding with grated bread,
brains, some beef-suet minced small,
some minced veal & sage;
season pudding with cloves,
mace, salt, ginger, sugar,
five yolks of eggs, & saffron;
fill head with pudding,
close it up
bind it fast with packthread,
spit it,
bind on caul round head with some of pudding round it,
rost it
The priests dressed as “women” answered; they hear from the “angel” “He is Risen” and were told to go forth and announce it.
save gravy,
blow off fat, put to gravy; for the sauce a little white-wine, a slic’t nutmeg & a piece of sweet butter, the juyce of an orange, salt, and sugar.
bread up the head with some grated bread; beaten cinnamon, minced lemon peel, and a little salt.
Then the women intoned the antiphon: “Surrexit enim, sicut dixit dominus. Alleluia”
****************
The Deposition of Christopher Husteler
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Christofer Husteler, aged 60,
household servant
to Henry Wombwell said:
At London
When my master Henry
dispatched his designs,
Sir Richard Tempest
advised him to go home
I durst not
said my master
Why?
I am feared
to be poisoned
By whom?
Amongst them.
Sir Richard said
Go to your friends
come not among them
or else come me,
and I shall give
you board.
That’s all I know
as when my master died
I was with my wife
at Bylburgh of the hill,
beside Tadcaster.
I never sent no message
to Elisabeth
to come
to her master,
I did see Elisabeth there
one time,
but we
never spoke
and never knew
my master
never
loved her
nor
favoured her.
*************
The Deposition of Thomas Upton
Thomas Upton, aged about 32 servant to Henry Wombwell
Master was in good health
on Easter Day.
Afternoon
he went
to Darfeld to evensong,
many folk went
with him,
according to custom
used.
When evensong
were done,
Master
and others went
on to Gorrells house
for a pennyworth of ale,
and mistress Wombwell,
Ralph Metcalf, Elisabeth
Green
rode home soon
as evensong were done.
Afterwards Master,
myself
and Edward Lee
rode
to Wombwell.
I set up me horse,
came into parlour,
master
and mistress
were sat at table.
one at one side, one other
They had two cups of ale
they were accustomed to have.
I ate meat with other servants
sat at another table
in the parlour
And when Master took
the cup and drank
Mistress went out
the parlour door.
And then my master rose
leaned in a window
afterwards went
into the hall
I followed him asked him
‘How are you?’
‘Elisabeth gave me
a cup of ale
I am poisoned.
My master began to be sick
(Thomas Upton holds his head)
Ralph Metcalf came out
parlour to speak to master
My master said to him
Ralph, I pray thee
give me drink,
for Elisabeth Green
has given me drink
and I will no more
At her hands.
Ralph said Mercy, Sir,
I gave you no drink.
Mistress Kateren came in
again to the hall and said
I have been sick too.
It’s calf’s head
we had at Nicholas Gorrells.
My master went to bed,
and I went with him,
and master said to me
I am poisoned
and I said to him
Sir, if ought come to you,
I shall tell it.
Master said to me
Pray tell it to Sir Richard
Tempest for he
has helped me.
On Monday my master
got up from his bed,
but as soon as
he was sick again,
went to bed again
and never rested
until he was dead.
Women who wound
My master asked me
to fetch a green sod,
cut it into three
one laid at his heart,
and others under
either arm and they
wound him in two sheets
and buried him by
Ten of the clock
on Twysday
he died
****************
The prime suspect Kateren, Henry’s wife never testified due to knowing influential barons.
Also, we have no record of the courts conclusion.
After reading the testimonies how do you think Henry died?
Was he poisoned?
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The Canal Town
Look. See marks left by horse lines scarred into iron guards and rollers fixed to locks and bridges
to protect
stonework agin decay
Aye, they are a smacking whip
for me memory
loud as gunshot
a short handle
with very long lash
pictures and tales
plaited up like
old piece of cotton towline
cracking warning
to next memory
round canal bend.
Down there where by pass is now
recall our sensible boathorse
harness jangle
steam rising a mist off her flanks
smell of worked horse
leans steadily into collar
kept cotton towline taut
continuous pull sped boat.
Good regular Blacksmiths
are gold
boat horse wears out
worn down
set of shoes in four to six weeks.
Posh had ostlers
to change horses
care for sick horses,
keep stable mucked out
ready for use
for their valued
boating customers.
No cold field
for knackered boat horse,
every regular stopping place, warehouse, wharf or canalside pub warm stable haven for hoof.
Hard worked canal horse fed well regularly with corn, crushed oats.
Chopped hay had to be prepared available at provender stores all over.
Some horses work without driver, would ‘backer’
risky business as someone had to be ready
leap ashore if horse boat
plod other way
Often after one horse crossed other’s towline it was driven on smartly both boats at full pelt
Drum-tight line to outside boat flicked up over
cratch, mast along top-planks caught
lifted over watercan,
chimney, helm by
inside boat’s steerer
very hard work skilled judgement experience long hours plod drudgery horses get tired, you walk behind them all day, every day
potholed canalwalk,
smell sodden leather
dripping brass sparkles
in flashing sun between
tree lined bank
horses and mules pulled
new long thin canal boats,
reliably regularly,
sometimes even
to strict advertised timetable
Will I wait days for fair wind get paid sometime,
or hire gang of men
or man and horse
drag me barge upriver
get paid delivery tomorrow?
Then canal was artificial new
water still, without current
either way
bridges low numerous
each with towing path under it
Then it was too much wind,
too little, or floods or drought.
Better than pack horses or road, almost
Hear smacking
whip memory
crack.
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pit ponies
Old George like all others
given half a chance
knew tha had two
bits o’ snap*
one for them
one for thee sen
so he’d nuzzle inside
your donkey jacket.
Times on entry to pit
down drift* leading others
he’d stop
swing his head
to and fro
Wait
a moment or two
turn and gallop up and out ‘pit.
Take thee 3/4 of a bloody shift
to get bastard back
down there.
When tha were leading
guarantee some wily bugger’d
stand on thee toes
if tha got behind ‘um
he’d hit you so hard
tha’s winded three days.
That ‘un got nowt
Out my donkey jacket.
Pullin’ them tubs
were noa joke. One
after a week pullin’ doubles*
just up and died.
Old George were best.
He were me mate.
. :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
* snap is dialect for ‘food’
*drift. A drift mine enters ground at an angle not vertically.
*doubles. Sometimes pit ponies had to haul more than one tub of coal.
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atti loses his bollocks, after Catullus 63
(1)
After a bellyful of roiling watta
Atti landed his feet
and trogged
into shadow dark wood
of goddess Cyb his mam
who piped up
Stop touching thi sen.
It’s immoral, obscene
And slapped his hands
And slapped his legs
till madfrenzied
by leaden weight
of his cock and balls
he grabbed a sharp flint
And stabbed and gouged
And gouged and stabbed
And struck it off
And he was a she
looked at his bloodied
cock and balls
blood dripped into soil
And he died, birthed again as a lass
her delicate snow white hands
took up a hollow ox-hide
rattling timbrel
and sang to her ship mates
(2)
come and go to forest-heights of me mam, all together now,
together get thi sens
tha wandering crew,
who hankered foreign soil
like exiles, and followed
my rule with me as tha boss.
My folk, tha endured flit sea
and roiling deep cos tha hated Venus. Please Cyb in tha heart
with tha headlong hanker.
Hurry thi sens up.
Together come and follow
to goddess forests,
where cymbals clash,
where timbrels jangle,
where flute blows deep
on a curved reed,
where ivy-hatted female ravers
toss their wildheads,
where they rattle their long honey dripped ivy or vine leaf wrapped pinecone tipped sticks
with piercing cries and bare hand
bonesnap fleshrip forest birds,
hares, deer to bloodwet carcass
to this place where it is our right to party
(3)
soon as Atti, not a real lass,
finished song to her crew,
her holy band of followers
cried aloud with tongues quiver
light timbrel echoes
hollow cymbals clash again
quick chorus on flit feet climbs
fertile mountain . At same time,
their leader Atti frenzied, gasps,
without her senses wanders all over shadow dark woods to timbrel jangle
like a wild heifer avoids burden of it’s yoke swift crew follow their flit-footed leader. And so, as they reached his mam Cyb’s home, knackered, starved,
they sleep, their mad fury gone
in napping calm.
(4)
When sun’s bright eyes and gold kite lit clear air, hard earth and wild fret,
and dispelled dark with his horses gallop, then sleep left quickly left Atti awake
with acquired sight what she had done
and where she were what she had lost,
she flitted back to beach looked out over wide watta, miserable, tearful she told her Dad’s land
(5)
my tussock, birthsoil,
me Dad’s oyle,
that I, poor sod, abandoned
as a son his father.
I made me way to woods
to snow and cold
wild animals and while mad
visit all their lairs.
I’ve forgotten where you live.
I want to scan thee a while
Me mind is free from wildmad
I’m bound to these remote woods?
Away from me Dad’s land
possessions, mates
and kin
Away from market-place,
street, race-course, and gym?
I have been all now
as am now a woman.
I were a young cock,
an adolescent, and a boy.
Once best in gym
once a street fighter.
For me, doorways were packed,
for me, doorsteps warmed
by tarrying admirers,
for me, house decked wi prizes
when I had to leave me bedroom
each sunrise.
Now am a female slave of me mam, Cyb?
Am I to be a raver?
I a barren cock?
Am I to live in frigid snow
of fertile mountains?
Am I to live me life under peaks,
with pigs and deer in woods?
Now, now I’m sorry, now I regret.
(6)
At this quick cry from her blood red lips
Cyb, his mam let lions out
goads one on left, enemy of flock
“Come on now,” she says, “Tha fierce, get thee sen off, away
See to it madness drives her,
see madness set her back into me wood,
she who scarpers from my rule.
Come, whiplash tha back with tha tail, suffer tha own tailpain
make all places echo
with tha bellow and roar.
Cyb utters these threats and with her hand frees lion from it’s yoke. Lion urging himsen to rage, rushes, roars,
breaks brushwood with flit paws.
About watery stretch of white shore and saw tender Attis by marbled sea
attacks
Attis, out of her mind, scarpers into wild woods, agin
whole life her mam’s slave.
Great goddess Cyb,
let all tha fury be far from me house.
Drive others to frenzy, drive others mad.
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The Wombwell Rainbow 