The jester was an important personage at Lathom, as in all great families of the time. The homes of the nobility were each in themselves royal courts in miniature, and the quips and cranks of these “strange caperers” must have been, not merely acceptable and welcome, but in a manner indispensable to the many—from my lord himself to the kitchen scullion—when books were rare, even for those who possessed the accomplishment of reading them. The wise saws and modern instances too often wrapped up in the quips of a clever fool must have kept awake many a brave gentleman when he had laid aside baldrick and hunting horn, and the falcon slept upon his perch. Moreover, as extremes so frequently do meet, in justice to all concerned the fact should never be lost sight of that the fool so called was often furnished with a very superior if fantastic headpiece beneath his cap and bells, and in many instances was a poet of a high order. To wit, one such a “fool” as Master John Heywood, King Henry VIII.’s jester, would be nowadays as acceptable as half a score of savants. In a catalogue, or, as it is called, a “Checkrowle of my Lord of Darby’s householde,” drawn up in 1587, “Henry ye ffoole” is enumerated last indeed, but obviously as a very distinctive member of the establishment. At this time the steward of Lathom had three servants, the controller three, and the receiver-general three. Seven gentlemen waiters had each a servant, and the chaplain, Sir Gilbert Townley, had one. Then came nineteen yeomen ushers, six grooms of the chamber, two sub-grooms, thirteen yeomen waiters, two trumpeters, and inferior servants: making the total number to feed, one hundred and eighteen persons. As will be seen, a spiritual teacher figures in this list, in the person of Sir Gilbert Townley; but neither physician nor surgeon, nor, for that matter, a barber. Possibly, these indispensable members of a large household are both included in the person of “a conjurer,” kept in his lordship’s service, “who cast out devils and healed diseases.” The weekly consumption of food at Lathom in the sixteenth century was an ox and twenty sheep; and in the way of liquor, fifteen hogsheads of beer, and a fair round dozen tuns of wine, yearly. In addition to the above enumerated comestibles were consumed large quantities of deer from the park, game from the woods, and fish from the ponds. For magnificence and hospitality, Lathom House in the time of the Stanleys surpassed all the residences of the north; and its possessors were regarded with such veneration and esteem, that the harmless inversion, “God save the Earl of Derby and the King,” was as familiar as household words. And if in the days of Henry VIII. and Elizabeth this was held no treason, still less was it so in the days of Charles I. in the time of the Lord and Lady of Lathom whom peril and death itself could not render disloyal to their King, or a mockery to their motto, “Sans changer.”