The Muse’s Darling – Chapter 6

Welcome back to this Marlowe Month! 30^th May is commemorated as the anniversary of Kit’s death in 1593. Although the accuracy of the report of his passing has been disputed, it seems an appropriate date to launch Chapter 6 of The Muses’ Darling, my fictional saga of his life. The story below is set in April 1588 in Canterbury.

As this is a work of fiction, all characters but the Marlowe family are my inventions.

To read the mini biography and first four chapters of this novel, please go to Archives (below this story and Comments) and select October 2021 and February 2022.

The featured picture of a cradle with rockers may be the style of the one which features in this story. It would be nice to think that it is similar to the one which rocked the Marlowe babies to sleep in the 16^th century.

Audio version available:

THE MUSES’ DARLING

Chapter 6   

The Gifts

Kit was examining the cradle to gauge whether he could easily carry it along the few streets to its new temporary home or whether he’d need to borrow his father’s cart, when his mother called up to tell him that George had just arrived.

“Ask him to come up here,” Kit called down from the second attic room.

He met his friend at the top of the stairs, asked how the new mother and babies were and was relieved to hear that all were doing well, though not much sleep had been had by any in the house the previous night.

“I remember those days – well, nights,” Kit told him.  “As one of the eldest I had to endure a lot of noise in my younger years, from all the babies, so I do sympathise. At least my parents didn’t have any twins, so it was only one at a time till they settled down.”

“Yes, I can foresee a long string of sleepless nights ahead of us,” said George. “From their first few hours it seems if one wakes and yells, the other one does too.”

“Did my mother mention the cradle to you, George?”

“Yes, and it’s very kind of your parents to offer to lend it to us, and I am sure Alice will be keen to accept, but I’d like to ask her first.”

“Of course, but do come and see it so you’ll have an idea of what is on offer.”

He took him into the room where the wooden cradle was standing looking almost as good as new, quite a wonder as so many Marlowe babies had spent their first months in it, Kit included. George looked and was amazed at the nearly perfect condition, considering its age. He leaned over and touched the side, and the cradle began to rock very gently.

“I think Alice will be delighted with this. It’s so well made and much better than anything I could put together.”

“My uncle made it. He’s a carpenter and a bit of a perfectionist.”

“That’s where you get it from,” remarked George.

“Me, a carpenter? I can’t knock a nail into a piece of wood.”

“No, being a perfectionist. I know you must be or your plays wouldn’t be on the London stage.”

“That’s entirely different,” said Kit. “It’s easy to put words together and change them around before a play or a poem is finished. But with any practical skill, you don’t get an infinite number of chances to get it right.”

“I doubt I could write a poem or anything, no matter how many goes I had at it. I think that if you are good at something, it will seem easy.”

“Yes, each to his own, I suppose,” agreed Kit. “Anyway, the cradle is here for you if you and Alice would like to borrow it. It may help to keep the babies asleep if they are in separate beds.”

“I hope so,” said George already looking rather weary. “However, the reason I called to see you is that Alice and I would like to ask you a favour.”

“Yes?” said Kit wondering how he could help the couple.

“Would you do us the honour of being godfather to our son?”  

Kit was taken aback. “I wasn’t expecting such a question, but I am the one who is being honoured. However, isn’t your brother going to be godfather?”

“Yes, to our daughter, and Joan, Alice’s sister, will be her godmother. The twins are each having their own godparents, but we had arranged for Joan and Simon to be the godparents before we knew there would be two babies. Therefore, it made sense for them to be our firstborn’s godparents. We’d really like you to be our son’s godfather, and Alice is going to ask Bess Thorpe to be his godmother as you were both so good to us yesterday when they were born.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You provided me with friendship and company at a very difficult and worrying time.”

“But I didn’t actually do anything, whereas Mistress Thorpe helped deliver both babies.”

“Kit, you underestimate your value.”

“Not like me to do that,” said Kit with a grin.

“No, seriously, would you please do us the honour of being our son’s godfather?”

“Of course, I’d be delighted. When is the baptism and have you decided on names?”

“We are asking all involved which day this week would suit them best, and yes we have almost decided on names and will tell you once we are certain.”

“That makes sense.”

“So, is there a day during your stay here that isn’t convenient?”

“Well, I have agreed to speak at my old school on Friday afternoon but could manage the morning.”

“How about Saturday?”

“I’m free all day.”

“That sounds perfect as Bess Thorpe is fine with Saturday, and that’s Simon’s day off this week. He and Joe Yardley, the blacksmith he works for, take it in turns to have Saturdays off, since Simon became a full blacksmith last year. Joan can manage any day, and her neighbour will look after the children as John, her husband, will be working.”

“I’ll make sure I’m free on Saturday then.”

George sighed with relief and smiled. “Anyway, Kit, I’d better go back home and tell Alice about the cradle, and I’ll let you know this afternoon.”

“If you both decide you’d like it, I’ll give you a hand to carry it to your place.”

“That would be so good of you. Thanks very much.”

The young men walked down the stairs and Kit called to his mother to let her know George was going.

“I didn’t even offer you a drink,” she said, “I am sorry.”

“Don’t worry, Mistress Marlowe, I’ve got to get back to tell Alice about your kind offer of the cradle, and if it’s all right with you, I’ll come back later today to let you know if we would like to borrow it. Thank you so much.”

“That’s fine, George. Don’t rush. It’ll be here waiting.”

“Thanks again and I’ll see you later.”

Having seen his friend off at the door, Kit joined his mother and sisters in the kitchen and told them George had asked him to be godfather to their baby son. They were all thrilled, and Katherine began to reminisce about her two goddaughters, her nieces who were growing up fast.

“You’ll have a few words to say, Kit, but I doubt that will be a problem for you.”

“I’m sure I can manage a few words. And it is occurring to me that perhaps I could write a poem for each of the babies.”

“No doubt you can, but perhaps you ought to think about an actual present for your godson first.”

“Yes, that’s true. Any ideas?”

“Let’s think about it. Do you know the names they have chosen?”

“Not yet, I don’t think they’ve finally decided themselves.”

“Well, a spoon engraved with your godson’s name would be appropriate and useful.”

“Certainly worth thinking about. Thanks for the idea.”

George returned with a small cart early in the afternoon, conveying Alice’s delight at being offered the cradle. “I borrowed this from Tom as he offered it when I called in to see him. The Rising Sun has a lot of carts for moving the barrels, so he was able to spare one for a few hours.”

“That will make it easier to transport. Let’s bring it down now,” Kit suggested.

Between them, the two young men managed to half carry, half slide the rather heavy cradle down the stairs and place it gently on the floor. The commotion of bringing it down two flights had not gone unnoticed, and Katherine and her daughters, as well as Sarah, were waiting for them. The girls all seemed excited at the thought of a day-old baby being placed in it, while Katherine had some bedding ready to accompany it.

George thanked Katherine again for letting them borrow it, offering to pay rent for it.

Katherine refused and just hugged him, saying, “I never thought another baby would be laid in there, so knowing one of your infants will be sleeping in it is payment enough. Now, the cradle is fine there and the cart is safe in the back yard, so how about a drink before you set off with it?”

Within a minute the boys were drinking ale and sampling a cake each, while George was being inundated with baby questions and giving answers. Alice was fine, and the babies were healthy and feeding well but not sleeping as much as hoped. He had been busy all day with one thing and another and on his way to the Rising Sun had arranged the double baptism for 3:00 p.m. on Saturday. Now he just wanted to get home with the cradle.

And so a small group of ladies watched as the cradle was placed in the cart and trundled off. Arriving outside the back door, George and Kit lifted it carefully and carried it upstairs, a bit of a tricky procedure as the stairs were steep and narrow. However, no damage befell it, and once on the landing, George slid it into the bedroom he and Alice now shared with their twins. Bringing the bedding left on the kitchen table, Alice’s mother joined them and proceeded to lay it carefully in the cradle. She and George then stood in the doorway, each with a baby in their arms, and Kit was thrilled to see the tiny infants, asleep and as quiet as they would ever be. Frances Fisher indicated that Alice was asleep so not to make a noise and whispered that she was holding her granddaughter, then asking Kit if he’d like to hold his godson. Kit was a bit dubious, but she pointed to the chair on the landing, and he sat down. George then laid his son in his friend’s arms. Kit felt quite emotional, seeing the baby whose future life he would be expected to guide, and wondered if he would have to play much part in this. He hoped not; after all, he no longer lived in Canterbury, and was his lifestyle exactly right for the role? Keeping his thoughts to himself, however, he gently handed the baby boy back and proudly watched him placed into the Marlowe cradle, which seemed fitting.

The three of them made their way downstairs where Mrs Fisher insisted on giving them a drink and chatting to Kit about the baptism. He had to admit he had never been a godfather before and was rather nervous, but she assured him he would be given step-by-step instructions as the ceremony proceeded and he would not have to do much. George then revealed the names he and Alice had chosen for the babies. Their daughter was to be christened Stefanie Joan and their son Christofer Simon, and this surprised Kit as the use of two names was unusual in the Elizabethan era. George went on to explain that Alice had loved the name Stefanie, since 1578, when she met a young French girl with that name. This Stefanie had been travelling to London, via Dover and Canterbury, with her Parisian parents to stay with a cousin who had married an English soldier, and she and Alice had become good friends in the short time they had spent together. As the practice of naming children after their godparents couldn’t be ignored, the twins would also bear the names of three of the four.

Kit was flattered to say the least. Although asked to be godfather, he hadn’t envisaged the tiny boy receiving the name Christofer, thinking just Simon would be the most likely choice. This made Kit more determined to carry out his plan for a special baptismal gift for Christofer, and before making his way home, took a detour to see James Lacey the silversmith. He was greeted warmly by the older man, who knew the Marlowe family well, and taken into the back room, which was arrayed with silverware in varying degrees of completion.

Having admired many of the pieces and explained his role of godfather on Saturday afternoon, Kit asked his question. “Would you be able to make a silver spoon with an image of St Christofer carrying Christ across the river?”

“Of course.”

“In time for the baptism?”

“Yes, it should be ready on Friday.”

“That sounds good.”

“Would you like a silver plate in the same design to go with it?” James then asked, adding that it was quite fashionable to give a silver spoon and plate as a baptismal gift to a godchild.

Having been offered a good price, Kit handed him half the cost and said he’d call in on Friday to see how it was going but would be happy to wait till Saturday morning to collect the gifts, whereupon he would pay the remainder.

After business was concluded, Kit returned home with written confirmation of his order but waited till the evening to tell the family. Thrilled with the prospect of the gifts, he felt it unlikely he would sleep straight away, and so by candlelight he began the first of the poems for the twins. Two hours later both were finished. He would write them out more neatly in the morning and accompany them with a silver shilling for each baby, not as a baptismal present but to give them something for the future. Pleased with his achievements, he went to bed, looking forward to the next day.

© Chasqui Penguin, 2022

Twitter: @ChasquiPenguin