he had some nasty cuts and bruises which I duly dressed. I complained once again to Father Abbot about his mistreatment but Samson, ever one to smooth ruffled feathers, was of a mind to play down the whole affair reluctant as he was to prompt any more ill-will than already existed between the abbey and the King’s men.
And that was another bone of contention. With so many young men with nothing to do billeted within the abbey grounds tempers were beginning to fray. Drink was the main problem. Complaints from the cellarer’s office about drunken brawls had already led to a banning of alcohol within the abbey precincts. Needless to say this ordinance had no effect whatever. The men simply went out into town to get their drink there. And they returned, inevitably, with women.
Now, licentiousness within the abbey precincts was not something to be taken lightly. We are a celibate order and such behaviour brings disgrace upon the name of our virtuous – and reputedly virginal - saint. And our tonsures did nothing to shield us from the attentions of these…ladies. One evening as the light was beginning to fade I happened to be in the Great Cemetery behind the abbey church – I’d gone there for a legitimate purpose, it being too much of a trudge to the necessarium just to make water - when I heard a noise and out from the bushes emerged a soldier with two girls in tow. Startled, I had to finish my business quickly and just managed to hide in time to see him hand the two girls over to a grotesque creature perched cross-legged upon a coffin tomb. I crossed myself quickly, wondering what manner of devil this was when I recognised its shape: It was Mother Han, the woman I found selling fake relics in the marketplace a few days earlier. The soldier was just too much of a brute for me to tackle on my own, but Mother Han was not. She was so busy examining the coins the soldier had given her that she didn’t notice me scuttle over. Glancing quickly at the two girls who were quite unperturbed at seeing a monk in a habit, I challenged her:
‘Mother Han, what is the meaning of this outrage?’
‘Eh?’ she stared up at me with her one good eye. ‘Ah, the bone-breaker,’ she nodded. ‘It’s tuppence for you as for anybody else.’
‘Mother Han,’ I protested. ‘These girls can be barely above nine or ten summers!’
She shrugged. ‘A penny each then.’
‘Mother Han!’
‘We all have to make a living, brother. Anyway, these two are eighteen. Ask them.’
I bent to examine the smallest girl more closely. ‘This one still has her milk teeth!’ I said rising up again.
Mother Han squinted at the girl through her one good eye then tutted. ‘I thought they looked a bit small for eighteen. Ach, you can’t believe a word anyone says these days.’
I started spluttering again .
‘Oh, all right, keep your tonsure on. We were going anyway. It’s too quiet here. Quiet as the grave,’ she cackled and heaved herself laboriously off the tombstone. With the bell tolling vespers above us I watched with dismay as she corralled her two young charges out through Anselm’s gate tipping the gatekeeper a coin as she went. As they disappeared into the gathering gloom I realised something had to be done to distract so many idle young men before even worse befell us. But what?
I’m not sure whose idea it was to hold a football match but it certainly wasn’t mine. I had witnessed too many such tournaments when I was a student and there are fewer maimings in the aftermath of a battle than after a game of mob football. That is because on a battlefield there are strict rules governing the slaughter while on the football field there are none. The proposal was much debated in Chapter before agreement was finally reached. No-one was under the illusion that the whoring and the brawling would cease after the match but it would perhaps resume with a little less vigour than before - at least for a while. But it was agreed that a
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley