The Colloquies of Edward Osborne, Citizen and Clothworker of LondonManning, Anne
History
The Colloquies of Edward Osborne, Citizen and Clothworker of London
Manning, Anne
Biographical fiction; London (England) -- History -- 16th century -- Fiction; Osborne, Edward, 1530?-1591 -- Fiction
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_!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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