The Town House Read Free Page A

her. She should be safe with me.
III
    Now here is something which men born in free towns, or on the manors of more enlightened lords, may find hard to believe; or they will believe that it was true in times long past, not in my living memory. But I swear by all that I hold holy, it was true at Rede. It was a custom which our Norman masters brought with them. Having a little learning I can give it its proper name– Jus primae noctis –but we called it First Night’s and it meant simply that the lord of the manor had the right, if he so wished, to take any serf-born girl’s maidenhead. Whether he exercised the right depended upon many things, the man’s own lustfulness, age or disposition, the way the girl looked, the fashion in the district. On many manors it was regarded as out-moded, like the Twelve Days of the Lord of Misrule at the Christmas season: but in this, as in other matters, my Lord Bowdegrave was old-fashioned, and here and there about Rede manor, and about his others I have no doubt, the long straight Norman nose, the cleft chin, the bright hazel eyes which were the visible sign of the Bowdegrave breed, could be seen, incongruous in a peasant face, bearing witness that he had not only exercised his right, but done it potently. Of late years, however, age and an increasing heaviness – it took two stout men to heave him into his saddle by this time – had cooledhis ardours and for several seasons past he had contented himself with kissing the prospective bride if she were comely, or giving her a smack on the rump if she were otherwise.
    Occasionally, during the weeks that followed my be-speaking of Kate, I thought upon this matter. It seemed to me impossible that any man, however old, however much he weighed, could look upon my Kate and not desire her. Yet, strange as it may sound to any not serf-born, I was not unduly disturbed. This matter of acceptance of circumstance cuts very deep. Think of those born hump-backed, deaf, blind. They accept their fate and bear it. I was born a serf. If my services were required even in the next village, Ancaster, to shoe a horse or mend a plough, I must ask the steward’s permission before I could step across the boundary between Rede and Ancaster. Think how irksome that rule would be on any free man. To me it was nothing. In the same way it was … well, almost nothing, that the unlikely might happen and my Lord Bowdegrave should claim his First Night’s right upon Kate. She would be mine for the rest of our lives. He could not be prevented. There lies the whole crux of the matter; what cannot be prevented must be borne, like unseasonal weather, mildew on wheat, murrain in cattle. Through May and June and the months that must drag until our lord’s harvest visit every time I thought upon the matter I told myself – There is nothing I can do; it is unlikely that he will claim his right, but if he does what is one night?
    That was a year of most remarkable fine weather. With the new moon of June the heat set in and by mid-July the corn was ready for reaping. Without hitch or hindrance, without so much as a summer shower to halt it, the harvest went on and before the end of August, a full month early, the stubbles were cleared. My Lord Bowdegrave, informed of this, put forward his visit and my time of waiting was cut from October to September.
    I had ruled myself well. To a degree the season had been in my favour; hay-time and harvest are busy times for smiths, and this year, since they followed so hard on one another’s heels, I was doubly busy. Also Kate’s father, resenting, perhaps, my words about the gelding iron, had sent Kate farther and farther afield as pasture became scarce. So I saw her but rarely. However, late in August, the grass having grown again on the low land by the river, the flock came home, and one night, under a lop-sided moon, she and I lay together.
    It was sin; but she was guiltless. God and all the saints are witness to that. I did it