Mates

By: Will B
(© 2008 by the author)
Encouraged by Ed

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 1: 1643

In August of 1643 Longleaf Manor lay, basking in the sunlight. Located in the County of Kent two miles from where the Thames flowed into the English Channel, the half-timbered, two-and-a-half storied manor house presented a picture of peace and prosperity. The main portion of the house was flanked at each end by wings that had been added during the reign of Great Harry, or Henry VIII, as he was known. During the reign of his daughter, Queen Bess (God bless her!) the owner of the house had added shorter central portion, which served as an entrance porch. From the air, the house resembled a letter ‘E.’

The Lord of the Manor, Thomas Robinson, 43 years old, his wife 33-year-old Mary and their 11-year-old son, Edward, lived here along with the cook, three maids and two men-servants. The indoor servants consisted of Joan Partridge, aged 49, the cook, and always addressed as Mrs. Partridge, even though she had never been married. Ned Smith, aged 19, and Ted Jones, aged 21, were the two men servants of the Manor. The housemaids were Alice Taylor, 18, Jane Parrish, 20, and Anne Latham, aged 24.

Near the house was a smaller house where the steward of the manor lived with his family. The steward, and lifelong friend of Thomas Robinson, 41-year-old John Thompson, his 33-year-old wife Elizabeth and their 11-year-old son, Henry, occupied the house.

Some distance away from both houses was a barn, inhabited by three horses and five cows, innumerable chickens and geese. A lean-to, attached to the barn, was the living quarters of Alfred Cowman, 45-year-old cowherd of the Manor.

On a slight hill behind the house was a pond, from which flowed a stream that provided a place for the animals to slake their thirst. Flowing onward, the stream flowed into a larger river, which provided power for the mill. Also leading from the pond were a series of pipes that brought water to two large cisterns behind the Manor house, providing fresh water for the occupants

The Manor, barn and pond was partially surrounded by a forest, and a well-beaten track led from the Manor house over another hill to the village of Longleaf, which contained a number of small houses, a tavern, a blacksmith’s shop, the mill and the parish church, St. George’s Church. The Vicar, Rev. John Poole, M.A., Oxon, conducted services and looked after the spiritual and material well being of his parishioners. He often consulted with Tom Robinson if there were a problem.

Outside the village were the farms cultivated by the villagers. The Manor grew its own fruits and vegetables, ground its own flour, provided its own meat on occasion, and the people of the village could depend on Tom Robinson and Rev. Poole to help with any problems.

On this bright August day it would appear that nobody was stirring, but that is not true. Mary Robinson and Elizabeth Thompson were sitting in the hall, and Mary was entering some figures in her large commonplace book. “There, now,” she said, “I count ten good sheets and fifteen common sheets, and twelve blankets, all mended and in good condition. We should be in good shape as far as bed-clothes are concerned.”

“You do maintain a good house,” Elizabeth said. “I saw how many jars of preserved fruit, jugs of ale and jugs of beer you have in your store room.”

“Yes,” said Mary. “We’ve almost enough food to keep us fed for a good while, and if my Tom and your John can bring us some game from the forest to hang in the smoke house, we’ll be in better shape.”

This domestic conversation was interrupted by Alice, one of the housemaids, who came into the hall, curtsied, and said, “So please you, Madam, a rider has just delivered a package for the master. She handed Mary a package wrapped in a cord and sealed with a wax seal that bore the Longleaf arms and crest.

“Hmm,” said Mary. “It must be from Cousin George. He’s a clerk in the King’s service at Whitehall. Looks like more books. John is always getting books from George, and sending him some. Thank you, Alice. Have you seen to the comfort of the messenger?”

“Yes, ma’am, ever so pleasant he is, and quite good looking, too!” Alice giggled a little.

“That will do, Alice. Thank you,” Mary said, dismissing the maid.

As she spoke, several figures emerged from the woods. Tom Robinson and John Thompson, and their sons, Edward and Henry and Ned Smith, walked toward the pond. Ned was leading a horse, who had the body of a dead boar tied to its back. The other four men each had a brace of pheasants in their hands.

Tom said, “It’s been a hot day; we’ve a had a good day’s hunting, and I’ve a mind to take a dip in the pond. John, why don’t you and the boys join me? Ned, you take the game and the horse down to the smoke-house and barn and then come back for a cool swim before we go to the house?”

“Yes, sir, thank you. I’d enjoy that!” Ned took the horse, the boar and the pheasants down to the Manor.

Tom and John stripped off. They were both tall, with ruddy-gold hair, broad shoulders, well-developed muscles on their arms, chests and legs and flat stomachs, which showed they were used to walking, riding and hunting. They each had hairy chests and thick uncut cocks that swung in the air as they jauntily walked to the pond. .

Ed and Henry also stripped and joined their fathers. These boys had slim, wiry bodies that were devoid of any hair below the ears. Their legs had begun to lengthen, and their hands had become large and muscular. If large hands were a sign of other large parts of their body that had yet to develop, they would also be handsome men.

Someone who didn’t know the family would be surprised to see that the boys were almost identical twins. This was not really surprising since their mothers were twin sisters, daughters of the late Rev. William Chalmers, M.A. Oxon, who had been the former Vicar of St. George’s Parish Church.

“You boys be sure to take a leak before you come into the pond,” Tom Robinson said. “We want to keep this water as fresh as possible.”

Soon Ned came back and he too took off his clothes and walked to the pond. His body was slender but beginning to show a lot of muscle development in his chest and arms. Like almost all the other men of England of the time, he too was uncut. His handsome tool had seen lots of action, especially with Alice, the housemaid!

So the five males—three men and two boys—disported themselves in the pond. The three adults and two young lads were unaware of a figure skulking some distance away, watching, leering, thinking of how he would like to…, but…, Alfred Cowman wasn’t quite sure what he wanted. He just knew that he thought that the sight of those three men, clean of limb, strong of body, and oh, so....  beautiful in their equipment, just made his own body tingle at the thought of . . . doing....  of being . . .. Poor Alfred didn’t know what these lustful urges meant, but he surely had them.

Thomas got out of the pool, shook the excess water off of his body, and stepped into his braies (a loose pair of drawers that covered his lower abdomen). He tied the drawstring and then pulled on his pantaloons, a sort of pair of pants cut off just below the knee. He pulled his jerkin, a sleeveless shirt over his head, and stepped into his boots. John did the same thing, and then they called to Ned and the boys to get dressed. Ed and Henry just put on their braies and their short pants. They didn’t bother with jerkins, and they didn’t wear shoes in the summer.

The five of them walked down to the Manor House, and Tom and John went into the Hall where they found their wives. “Good morning, or should I say God afternoon, Tom.” Mary said. “Did you have a good hunt?”

“We did, my dear. We have a boar that’s already hanging in the smoke house, and several brace of pheasants. They’ll be ready for plucking in a day or two. Happily I won’t have to go hunting until next week.”

“Tom, you have another package of books from your Cousin George,” Mary told him.

‘Let’s see what they are.” Tom pulled out his knife and used the point to open the knot, allowing the cord to be used again. ”Oh, good! He sent me a copy of William Habington’s “Observations Upon Historie,” and a copy of James Howell’s “Instructions for Foreign Travel…and here’s a letter.”

Tom opened the letter and examined it with a perplexed look on his face. He turned to the others and said, “Mary, I have to take this into my study.  Why don’t you get some bread, cheese and ale, and John and Elizabeth can join us for a simple meal. I’ll be right back.”

Tom went to his study, which occupied one of the rooms in the right hand wing of the Manor. He unlocked a cabinet and took out another book. “Hmmm, George must have thought his was important enough to send in code,” he mused to himself. He decoded the letter and went back to the hall.

“I have some news that I have to share with you. George writes that during the last week of September, the King will be visiting Sir Henry Rawlings for a few days.”

There were murmurs of ‘”The King,” and “King Charles, God Bless Him.”

“There’s more. On one afternoon, the King, accompanied by Sir Henry and only two servants, will be…visiting us for dinner and to stay the night.”

“The King! Here! Thank God I was just going through the linens to see if any sheets or blankets needed repair…. and food! Do we have enough food?” Mary began to plot and plan how she could entertain this guest, the King!

“Calm down, Mary. We’ll be all right,” Tom said. “John, do you think you could go hunting with me again tomorrow?” 

“Sure, Tom, and I have a cask of ale I can bring over, if you need it.”

Elizabeth said, “You know, I have been making two new doublets for the boys, in blue velvet with white silk trimming. They will be done in time for Ed and Henry to wear them as they wait on the King at the table.”

“There’s more,” said Tom. “You know that after the King, God save him, went to Parliament to arrest those members of the House of Commons, there was such an uproar that the Queen took the children and fled to France.”

“Oh, yes, poor lady. I feel so sorry for her, even if she is French!” said Mary.

“Well, Mary, you are going to have a chance to express your sympathy to the Queen in person.”

Mary and Elizabeth gasped. “The Queen here! Oh, my, OH MY!”

“We can’t keep the news of the King’s arrival a secret, and we let slip that a few French women will be coming--French women ‘of the town’--if you get my meaning, will be arriving quietly at the Manor. We will ‘let slip’ to the villagers that they have been brought to er, entertain, the King and the other guests.”

Mary giggled. “You mean that the King will have this French ‘piece’ in his room, and she will really be his Lady Wife?”

“That’s what I mean, my dear,” her husband said. “You know, I’ve always wondered if what they say about French women is true. Do you think we will have a chance to find out, John?”

John started to make a ribald comment until he saw Mary and Elizabeth looking at Tom and him with narrowed eyes.

The next few weeks were full of frenzied activity. Mary and Elizabeth made sure that the boys’ doublets were ready, and that all the men had fine cambric shirts of the best quality. The men went hunting and brought in a couple of deer and more pheasants. The maidservants swept and polished all the rooms of the manor, and put bowls of potpourri in the Master Bedroom, which of course would be used by the King and Queen. Tom and Mary would use Edward’s room, and it was arranged that Edward would sleep at Henry and Elizabeth’s house. Reverend Poole was invited to dinner. Worry! Scurry! Make! Bake! Worry some more! Plan!

Revered Poole had gotten together some of the best singers in the village to make a choir that would sing after the meal. The day before the arrival of the King the maids gathered fresh vegetables from the garden to make into salads.

The day arrived at last, and at two of the clock on 30 September, four horsemen rode up to the door of the Manor. Tom and Mary were there to greet their guests, and John and Elizabeth, young Ed and Henry, all the household servants, and yes, almost everyone in the village was on hand to cheer the King as he arrived. With him were Sir Henry Rawlings and two equerries of the King, wearing the Stuart badge.

As the King dismounted, all the men bowed, and Mary and Elizabeth sank in deep curtsies, and Mary said, “Welcome to our house, Your Majesty.”

King Charles was 43 years old, and only five-feet-four-inches in height, but his manner was gracious. He bowed to the ladies, and raised Mary from her curtsy and said, “Mistress Robinson, we are indebted to you for entertaining us, and those others who will arrive a little later.”

Sir Henry presented all the others to the King, and when His Majesty saw Edward and Henry, he smiled and said, “You two fine lads remind me of my own sons. They are about the same age as you.”

As the party passed into the house, Tom quietly asked Sir Henry where his son Gerald was.

“Ahhh, yes, Tom. He will be arriving later with some others. He has gone to the River to meet them,” Sir Henry said.

In a few minutes the clop-clop of several horses could be heard outside. Gerald Rawlings, 31 years old, and a handsome man escorted three heavily cloaked ladies into the house. There had been no cheering outside for most of the villagers had dispersed to their own homes, and those who remained muttered about ‘those French doxies’ who had come to their manor.

“I wonder if her ladyship will receive them!” one village matron said.

“Oh, my dear, it’s for the King. Imagine, separated from his wife all these months, and that dreadful war! Let him have some pleasure. You know what men are like!” said another goodwife.

The only reply was a loud sniff!

Inside the Manor, the women had taken off their cloaks and again, Mary and Elizabeth and all the other women had made their best curtsies.

Henrietta Marie, born a “Fille de France,” as a daughter of King Henry IV, was now Queen of England, the Scots, and Ireland. At 34 years and after having borne her husband six children, she was still lovely. She raised Mary Robinson from her curtsey and said, “Ah, Madame Robinson, thank you for allowing my ladies and I to visit your home.”

“If Your Majesty will come with me, I will show you where you can refresh yourselves for a few minutes before dinner,” Mary said.

She and Elizabeth led the Queen and two ladies-in-waiting to the best bedroom, where the Queen could avail herself of the amenities. The women talked about children, managing a household, and that ‘dreadful war.’

The King, Tom and John, talked about that ‘dreadful war.’  While they were talking Reverend Poole came in, with six young boys, who were to sing for their King and Queen.

Dinner was served! The King and Queen sat at the center of the main table, which was raised on a slight platform, with Tom, John, Sir Henry and Gerald at the King’s right hand. Mary, and Elizabeth and the Queen’s ladies sat at Henrietta Marie’s left.

At a lower table sat Pastor Poole, and the choristers. Ed and Henry, resplendent in their white cambric shirts with blue velvet doublets trimmed with lace, black knee britches, white stockings and black shoes, waited on the King and Queen, presenting each dish on bended knee.

The menu was a simple one; the boar had been roasted on a spit and was brought in on a huge tray carried on a huge tray by the two men servants, Ned and Ted. The boar’s head was presented with an apple in its mouth. There were baked pheasants with bread stuffing, a salad of greens, and for dessert, some kind of custard with apples in it. Fine wine and ale were served in silver pitchers.

“I apologize for the poor meal we have out before Your Majesty…,” Mary began, but the King interrupted her. “Nay, Madame, this meal is delicious, there is sufficient for our needs, and  . . . (here some devil prompted the King to say) … and you have provided the most delightful dessert a man could ask for.” He looked at his wife and…he wriggled his eyebrows at Henrietta, who looked at him adoringly, and then put her hand on his arm and said, “Ma chere mari! Pas devant les enfants, s’il vous plait.*”

After the meal was ended Reverend Poole stood and asked a blessing on the meal, on the King and Queen and on all the company assembled. There were murmurs of ‘Amen’ from the company.

The pastor had his boys, joined by Ed and Henry, stand at the end of the hall, facing the main table. The performed several selections from John Barnard’s “First Booke of Selected Church Musick.” They ended with a “Gloria” and a “Sanctus,” from an old book of music for the Mass.

When they finished, there was silence for a few moments and then loud applause. The Queen stood up and went to Reverend Poole, and said, “Good Reverend, your music has pleased me greatly. I thank you and your boys. Although we are not of the same congregation, your music has touched all of us.” 

Reverend Poole, devout Anglican that he was, bowed over the Queen’s hand. She raised it slightly and he kissed it.

After that, the guests all went to their rooms. It had been a long day, and Tom and Mary were exhausted. They had been worrying that something might go wrong, but Tom did say to his wife as they prepared to quench the candle in their room, “There’s no need to wonder what the King is doing tonight!”

“Oh, Tom! Whatever do you mean? Would you tell me, or better yet, show me what the King is doing tonight?” She pulled Tom into a close embrace and with a few movements let him know that she really wasn’t all that tired! (And believe it or not, neither was Tom!).

Ed and Henry were intelligent boys and very observant. They knew what the bull did to the cow, and they had seen the cock treading the hen, and they knew what Ned and Alice had been up to in the storeroom when they thought no one was looking. But they were curious about Alf, the cowman. He had no wife and he never slipped into the village to visit that one humble dwelling Ted used to visit. Consequently, whenever they saw Alf going off by himself they followed him if they could.

On this night, when just about everybody else was asleep, or at least in bed, they were talking about Alf. They looked out of the window, and saw a light on, shining through chinks in the wall of Alf’s shed.  “Come on, Henry. Let’s go see what Alf s up to,” Ed said.

Slipping on their braies, they quietly went out the window. They didn’t wear any shoes because they were used to going barefoot. The slipped across the grass to the shutter over Alf’s one window, and each boy put an eye close to a convenient chink. What they saw caused their mouths to drop open.

They saw Alf take off his clothes, and lay with his head and shoulder on the floor and his lower body and legs on the bed. He began to moan and rub his chest with both hands. He started to pinch and twist his nipples. With one hand he began to rub his cock, which became longer and harder as the boys watched.

His rubbing went faster and faster, his other hand pinching his nipples moved more and more quickly. His moans became louder and louder.

Suddenly they say Alf’s man seed erupt from his organ and shoot down onto his face and even into his mouth. They saw Alf scoop some of the creamy liquid and put it into his mouth… and swallow it!

Both boys moved away from the window, and looked at each other. They were surprised, and a little shocked at what they had witnessed, but they also felt a strange sensation in their bodies. They weren’t sure why Alf did that and yet … they wondered what it would be like to….

To be continued...

* For those who have forgotten their high school French, what the Queen said was “Oh my dear husband! Not in front of the children, if you please.”

Ed’s Comments: The Alf character scares me and sure don't anything to happen to Ed and Hank.

ED.

Posted: 01/09/09