Saraband for Two Sisters

“I fear,” he said ominously, “that before long the whole country will be aware of what is happening at Court” I gradually began to understand what he meant and my education began the next day when Carlotta took me into London to buy lace and other materials such as ribbons, gloves, and a fan or two. We went in style, for Sir Gervaise, being a rich and important gentleman, was the owner of a coach. And because Carlotta had the ability to wheedle anything out of him, she persuaded him to allow her to use it. It was grand, like a padded box, with seats for two at the back and front and a window with velvet drapes which could be pulled if one wished to shut out the street scene. Sir Gervaise’s family crest was emblazoned on the side and it was drawn by two magnificent white horses. The driver was resplendent in the Pondersby livery and so was the footman mounted at the back.

Thus in state we set off and as we approached the city I became aware of an atmosphere of bustle and excitement; there were people on horseback and people on foot, all behaving as though their business was of the utmost urgency, matters of life and death. For the first time I saw one of the new hackney coaches which could be hired for short distances; a carrier’s wagon trundled past us and, with a great deal of noise, turned into an inn yard. There were so many barges and other craft on the river that the water was almost invisible; and everywhere people seemed to be shouting, calling to each other, sharing jokes, quarreling, cajoling, threatening. I saw men and women in the most exaggerated of costumes. The low-cut dresses of the women seemed distinctly immodest to me, but at home we were still in the fashions of twenty years before, I supposed, when even ruffs and certainly the high collars which followed them, were still being worn. The men were more surprising than the women, for they wore wide sashes and their garters, just above the knee, were made of ribbon with big bows at the side; and there were rosettes on their shoes. But this elaborate costume was not general, for there were of course the beggars-ragged, sharp-eyed, darting hither and thither, pleading and threatening, and there was another kind of citizen who by the very somber nature of their dress called attention to the splendor of others. These were men in cloth doublets and dark-colored breeches, their collars were plain white and their tall crowned hats were unadorned by feathers; the women who were with them were dressed in plain gowns, usually gray in color, with white aprons protecting their skirts and white caps or plain tall hats similar to those worn by the men. They were like a different race of people; they walked quietly, eyes downcast except when they cast looks of contempt at those who swaggered by in their flamboyant garments.

I asked Carlotta who these people were.

“Oh, they are the Puritans,” she said. “They believe it is wicked to enjoy life.

See how they cut their hair.”

“I do,” I said. “It’s a great contrast to those who wear theirs long like women.”

“Long hair is so much more becoming.”

The contrast is so great,” I said. “In the country no one looks as grand and no one as somber.”

“They will. Fashions arrive in time ... even in remote places like Cornwall.” I disliked the denigration in her voice when she talked of my home so I said no more and gave my full attention to the scene before me.

I had never seen women such as those I occasionally glimpsed. Their faces were highly colored in a manner which could never be natural, and many of them had black spots and patches on their faces. I saw two of them in an argument and one started to pull at the other’s hair but the coach passed on so I did not see the outcome of that affair.

When we stopped, beggars looked in at the window and called a blessing on us if we would give them just a little to buy a crust of bread. Carlotta threw out coins, which clattered onto the cobbles, and a ragged boy who could not have been more than five years old darted forward and seized them. The beggars set up a wail but the coach passed on.

We left the coach at St. Paul’s and Carlotta told the coachman to wait for us there and guard well the coach while we explored Paul’s Walk for the articles we had come to buy.

My experiences grew more astonishing with every passing minute. There, in Paul’s Walk, which was the middle aisle of St. Paul’s Cathedral, was a market and a promenade and a meeting place for all kinds of people.