163:  Our Mother and Me

toutparmoi
A black and white cat, staring directly at the portrait painter. This is the cat that appears in the Tower Portrait with the Earl of Southampton.
Our new narrator.

I do not believe our mother ever liked me.

Oh, I do not doubt that had some horrid monster clamb down the chimney of the chamber wherein we lay and sought to carry me off she would have fought that monster tooth and claw.

But not for love of me.

She is fierce, and would not permit any monster to meddle with what is hers.

I was much afeared of horrid monsters.  My brother and sisters oft begged our mother for tales of them.  How I wished that they would not!

Our mother told me tim’rous cats get nowt in this world.  What we want, we must win, because none will offer it to us on a silver platter.

Our mother had much business to attend to.  When she was from home our nurse gave us suck and cleansed us.

Our mother sayt that were proper.  “Many great ladies,” sayt she, “have nurses to suckle and cleanse their brats.  ’Tis fitting I should too.”

Our nurse’s own kits had been made away with, or so our mother sayt.

The late Earl of Southampton – now in the Tower and known as plain Mr Wriothesley.

We all feared that we too would be made away with, but our mother sayt: No.  We were under the protection of our late Earl of Southampton’s lady.

I arrkst why the Earl was late in coming hisself to protect us.

Our mother sayt that calling our Earl “late” was a matter of law.  It meant he were dead, though in truth he was not.

I arrkst, “Why is he dead yet not dead?”  (I feared he were a monster none could kill.)

Our mother sayt, “By law he’s dead.  He was sentenced to a traitor’s death.  But now he’s imprisoned in the Tower, where some say he’s like to die come what may.”

Then she sayt that one of us kits might be sent to bear him company!

I arrkst, “Does that mean one of us will be soon be dead?”

“You will,” sayt she. “If you arks me any more fool questions.”

Then she turned sudden on my pretty sister, who was toying with a great feather.  Our mother sayt that were no feather, but a half-cut quill.  She gave my sister the tap on the head that means Take Heed of All I Do, seized the quill in her mouth, and told us we would now learn to write our names.

Small image of a quill pen.

We had no names save those known only to the Queen Cat of Heaven who loves us whether we be fool or no.

So then our mother sayt we were henceforth all named Harry in honour of our undead Earl.  “Belike,” sayt she, “when you have places of your own you may come by other names, but this will serve for the lesson.”

Thus began our education, which is not a thing to be entrusted to nurses.  Or so our mother sayt.  I durst not arks why.

Instead I watched as she seated herself, thrust out one leg as if she meant to cleanse her belly, and slipped the quill between her toes.

I, most desirous of winning her praise, applied myself to the task of quill-holding right well.

I alone had skill enuff to place it between my toes!

My brother and sisters could not refrain from fighting it and then each other.

But all our mother sayt to me was, “It came easy to you because you have big feet.”

Toutparmoi - Note from the EditorBy my calculations, this cat (temporarily known as Harry) and his siblings were born in the dowager Countess of Southampton’s apartment in the old Savoy Palace in early May 1601.

Tricks probably began their literacy lessons in July – shortly before the (late) Earl’s accommodation in the Tower was refurbished.  I’m not surprised that she seems to have been a less than tender mother, but trying to teach a litter of kittens to write with a quill would try anyone’s patience.  Besides, Tricks had a lot on her own far-from-silver platter. 

She was commuting between her residence in Blackfriars and the Savoy on the Strand.  She was determined not to be sent to the Tower to keep her late Earl company.  She had to maintain her role as Mistress of the Revels in Blackfriars, and endeavour to track down Shakespeare to take revenge on him.  A busy life.

The Tower of London, a view from across the river.

24 thoughts on “163:  Our Mother and Me”

    • toutparmoi February 14, 2019 / 10:48 pm

      It seems at least one of Tricks’ kittens succeeded in learning to write.

      Liked by 1 person

    • April Munday February 14, 2019 / 11:30 pm

      Thank goodness. I’m looking forward to tales from the Tower.

      Liked by 1 person

    • toutparmoi February 14, 2019 / 10:50 pm

      He has an enquiring mind. Let’s hope his anxieties don’t get the better of him

      Liked by 1 person

  7. Dave Ply February 16, 2019 / 7:47 am

    I see I missed the end of a chapter (I took December off), but am happy to see the beginning of a new one. Now we can all watch and learn, will this Harry be a prince?

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • toutparmoi February 16, 2019 / 8:21 am

      The occasional break from blogging does us good!

      Liked by 1 person

  8. Val February 16, 2019 / 11:13 am

    “Harry” “Yes?” “No, not you, Harry, you Harry” “Me?” “No, not you!” I wonder at naming all her kits as Harry, even if only temporarily. Tell them to beware – there might be a Markle in the vicinity… 😉

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply
    • toutparmoi February 16, 2019 / 12:38 pm

      Ooh, I hadn’t thought of the possibility of a Markle…

      Liked by 2 people

  9. mitchteemley March 4, 2019 / 1:21 am

    Delighted to begin reading the adventures of this third generation literary cat!

    Liked by 2 people

    Reply
    • toutparmoi March 7, 2019 / 12:27 am

      Thanks, Mitch. Let’s hope something exciting about Shakespeare will be revealed!

      Liked by 1 person

  11. Rachel McAlpine March 10, 2019 / 6:03 am

    This particular Harry seems to be a sensitive flower. He will need a deal of good luck to survive as did his mother and Gib, but if he does not die of fright prematurely, he will be an astute narrator, I think. Looking forward to his take on the impending anti-Shakespeare campaign.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    • toutparmoi March 10, 2019 / 12:02 pm

      Harry does seem a little sensitive to make an efficient Avenger. Perhaps his time in the Tower will toughen him up?

      Liked by 1 person

    • Rachel McAlpine March 10, 2019 / 8:04 pm

      Like sending a prince to Boarding school in Scotland? I dread to think.

      Liked by 1 person

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