Authors: Helen East
‘Much obliged meself,’ his friend answered with a laugh, as he disappeared round the corner. It was only when Dick was left alone, and he put his hand in his bag to get his papers and everything ready, that he realised why his friend had laughed so much and had been so obliged. For all that he’d possessed had gone: his purse; his apprentice papers; and even his little luck piece from home.
He turned, and ran a few steps after the boy. But it was hopeless. The thief had already vanished. Cursing himself for being a fool, and wavering between rage and tears, Dick wondered what to do next. He wouldn’t ask anyone else for directions, anyway. There was no one to trust. So he wandered around, hoping he would find the house by accident. Instead he got lost, and soon it grew dark. He spent that night cowering in doorways, jumping up at any sound, and moving on if anyone came past. At dawn he made his way down to the river, hoping at least to wash his face, and drink a mouthful or two.
To his surprise when he got there, by the side of the tower, he saw a dozen or so boys, some his age, some younger, splashing at the water’s edge. Keeping his distance, he was about to duck his head in, when one of them shouted ‘Not there! Upstream!’ and jerked his thumb eastwards. ‘And watch it! Ain’t safe to get in!’
Now he saw what they were doing. Washing skins. And the blood and mess was flowing his way. He called his thanks and went the other side of them. Here the river looked cleaner, but as soon as he dipped his hands in, he could feel the current pulling, and he understood what the boy meant. When he’d washed, he went over to thank him again.
‘Deadly,’ the lad agreed. ‘When river’s high someone always gets drowned. And when it’s cold we freeze. Can’t win, can you?’ He sniffed and dragged an armful of soggy ram skins out onto the bank. ‘Still, won’t be forever, I’ll get on to something better. If I survive, that is. I’m a ‘prentice with the leather. We all start with this.’
Dick told him he was hoping to be an apprentice too, and the boy grinned. ‘Good luck to you!’ he said, and pointed the way back to the London Stone. And this time Dick was luckier, both in his choice of friends and in finding his way. For just as he saw the stone up ahead, he noticed a grand house on his right, with a picture outside that showed a Maid’s Head, the sign of the mercer. It was surely the house he was looking for, and, as if in confirmation, he heard the familiar song of a blackbird calling to him from the garden behind. As soon as Cheapside stirred properly into life, Dick marched boldly across the street, and knocked on the door of the mercer, Mr Fitzwaryn.
It was opened by a maid, who looked him up and down and seeing how rough he looked by now, took him for a beggar. Shaking her head, she directed him to another entrance at the side of the house. When Dick knocked there, the door opened onto the warmth and rich smells of the kitchen, and the poor boy realised how hungry he was. But now it was the cook standing there glaring at him. ‘What do you think you’re after?’ she cried. ‘Coming here knocking as bold as the master!’
When Dick tried to explain, she picked up a skillet and chased him away.
As luck would have it, however, Mr Fitzwaryn came out at just at that moment, and although he was surprised to see Dick hovering near the door, all mud-spattered and forlorn, and without purse or letters or anything, he soon took charge of the situation, and brought him into the house.
So that was how Dick Whittington began his life as a loyal and obedient servant, and the newest and youngest apprentice to the merchant trade of the London Livery Company of Mercers. The ‘Livery’ part of the title had only just been introduced – on account of the elegant ceremonial robes that King Edward III encouraged guild members to adopt. The practical reason was that it helped show which guild was which, but the delight in such sumptuous clothing was also a sign of the times, amongst rich Londoners especially.
The mercers were general merchants, specialising in cloth, mostly exporting wool, and importing silk or linen or calico. Mr Fitzwaryn was one of the wealthiest; he only imported silk and velvet, and dealt in specially embroidered work, which was highly fashionable and much in demand at court. He had a workshop where it was woven, and seamstresses who made it into clothes; he also had a shop where it was sold, as well as dealers who took it all over England and Europe. So it was the best of places for a likely lad to learn.
Sometimes though, because Dick was new, and young too, and knew so little about London life, the older apprentices would tease him and play all manner of tricks on him. But by and large they were good-natured, and Dick was so cheerful and hard-working that they could not help but like him. Of course, as the newest one to join, he had all the worst jobs, the ones that everyone wanted to pass on to someone else. But there was nothing nearly as bad as the apprentices in the leather trade had.
As well as working in the shop, the apprentices helped serve in the master’s house. Dick did most of this, because he also lived there. And the best of that, as far as he was concerned, was Mr Fitzwaryn’s daughter. Her name was Alice, and she was nearly thirteen, a year younger than him. She was light and bright as a summer’s day, with a quick smile and a kind word for everyone. And she liked to talk to Dick about the things that he knew most about – creatures of the countryside, especially birds. He could imitate their songs, and made her laugh by mimicking the way they moved, too. But above all, she loved the story of Dick and the blackbird calling on that first morning. They could have talked for hours, if they’d ever had the time.
For it was a busy life that Dick lived, early morning to late at night. And he would have been happy – even with a bedroom in the roof so small there was not room to stand or move about at all – had it not been for two things.
The first was the rats and mice who ran all over him at night, and nibbled whatever they could find, including poor Dick’s clothes. He was forever trying to fight them off, and make good the mess they had made. But worse than that was the constant harassment he had from the cook. When she discovered that Dick was the new apprentice, instead of being apologetic for chasing him away on the first day, she seemed to blame him for the mistake she had made. From then on she made his life as miserable as she could. She complained the fires that he built were too smoky, said he took too long if she sent him to buy something, that he left the sweepings of silk everywhere, and anything else she could think of. But harder still were the things she said to him when nobody else was about. That he was a clumsy country fool, and that people laughed at how he dressed. And she’d seen the way he looked at Miss Alice, and how he tried to impress, but hadn’t he guessed that Alice herself mocked him behind his back? Poor Dick would lie awake wondering if what she said was true. And if it was, it would break his heart, but what was he to do?
So the days turned into weeks, and the months became one year and then two, and then almost three. Dick was doing all and more that he was asked to do, and being bright, he quickly learnt the ins and outs of the mercer’s craft. One day he pleased the master so much that he was given ten groats and an afternoon off, to go and enjoy himself at the May Day celebrations.
So Dick and the other apprentices went down to All Hallows church, and from there all the way to Billingsgate there were garlands and ribbons and stalls. So they watched the parades and laughed at the jesters, and joined in the dances too. Then they wandered along the stalls, but there were so many fine things, Dick couldn’t make up his mind what to buy.
But by the time he got to Billingsgate he was ready to eat, so he spent four of his groats on oysters, which he’d never had before, and he thought them the best thing he’d ever tasted. When he’d done he licked his lips and looked around and what did he see but a cat, watching him with desperate eyes. Knowing what it was like to be hungry, and enjoying the pleasure of being wealthy enough to do what he wanted, Dick bought the poor creature a whole fish for herself. She wolfed it down, bones and all, and then she stuck to him all afternoon, and when he started off for home she followed after.
Then suddenly a rough-looking man blocked his way. ‘Oi!’ he bellowed. ‘What you doing with my cat?’
‘She isn’t yours,’ protested Dick. ‘She’s a stray.’
‘Only since she’s strayed away from me!’ said the man, snatching her up by the scruff. ‘If you want her, you’ll have to pay.’ The poor creature meowed so piteously that Dick couldn’t see what else to do but hand over the last of his money. So all he brought back from the fair was a cat. And that he hid under his doublet and carried upstairs to his room.
But for the first time since he’d arrived in London, he slept the whole night through. For the cat made herself busy at once, catching the rats and the mice. So from that night on, the cat grew fat, and ceased to be wild, and Dick relaxed, and stopped being so tired. And both had a friend to rely on.
Not long after, Mr Fitzwaryn had a new shipment of wool and cloth to sell abroad. He was a fair man, and he was doing well, so he decided to let all his apprentices and the whole household have a chance to share in trading overseas. So he called everyone downstairs, and asked if they had anything to sell that they would like the captain to take with him to barter on their behalf. Everyone had something except for poor Dick. He had neither money nor goods to offer.
‘Surely,’ said the cook, ‘you have something of your own.’
Dick could not bear to be made to look so poor in front of Alice. ‘Of course I do,’ he said. ‘I have a cat.’
The other servants laughed, but Mr Fitzwaryn said, ‘well if you wish, you may send that.’ Dick did not really want to, but he didn’t see how he could say no. And so, with tears in his eyes, he took his puss and gave it to the ship’s captain.
From then on his life was even more miserable than before. Now he had no friendly cat to keep him company at night, and instead the hungry mice and rats came back to plague him again. And the cook teased him mercilessly, the more so because she soon saw how much it upset him to think of his cat lost far away at sea. ‘You know what they’ve probably done,’ she said. ‘They’ll have skinned her to make bagpipes, so she can yowl and they can dance. Sailors love to do that!’
Because he was so unhappy and was sleeping so badly, Dick started making mistakes at work as well. Now even Mr Fitzwaryn was getting cross with him. It was more than he could bear. He had failed on all sides. And so he decided to run away. Of course, he knew that apprentices were bound for seven years at least. If he broke that he could never come back. He would be banned from the trade, and worse still, he would never be able to become a citizen of London town. But then he heard Alice laughing with the cook about something, and in his sorry state he assumed it was about him. And that was the last straw.
It was All Hallows Eve, and the whole household was late at church. When they came home he did not sleep, and as soon as it was getting light, he crept out and began to walk north. He climbed the long hill towards Highgate, the city gate he had come through all those years before. He remembered that now, and how different London had seemed then. And all his hopes and dreams. All come to nothing in the end. Now he was so very tired. He stopped for a minute to rest on the milestone by the side of the road. Dawn was breaking and far away the six bells of Bow church began to ring out for All Hallows Day. Over and over they rang the same peal, and as he listened he could hear what they were saying:
Turn again Whittington, Lord Mayor of London.
Turn again Whittington, Lord Mayor of London.
Turn again Whittington, Lord Mayor of London. Once. Twice. Thrice. Yes!
He stayed there until he was absolutely sure; Lord Mayor of London. Three times over. That’s what the bells were telling him. He knew Bow Bells would never lie.
And so Dick Whittington went back to the mercer’s house, and slipped inside while everyone was still fast asleep. And from then on, whenever things were hard to bear, he’d remember Highgate Hill, and imagine himself there.
Meanwhile, Dick’s cat was having adventures of her own. The ship she was on had sailed past France, and Venice too, far beyond the lands of Christendom and along the Barbary Coast to a place where gold was as plentiful as dust. There the captain stopped to trade, and as the people of that land were so different from them, many came just to see the sailor men. And so delighted were they with the curious goods brought from the cold lands of the North that the king of the land invited the captain to feast with him in his palace.
There, all things were so splendid that the captain was dazzled. Fine food of every kind was brought for him to eat. But before they could finish, rats and mice appeared from all sides, and in no time at all they had gobbled up everything. The captain was shocked, and asked the king if he would like these creatures stopped.
‘Certainly,’ the king replied. He would give a great deal of riches to anyone who could do that for him.
The captain was pleased for he remembered poor Dick and his cat, which was still on board, and a great favourite with all the sailors as she was such a good ratter. He sent for her straightaway. Being hungry by now, having long since eaten all the vermin on-board ship, the cat was delighted to meet some more. In less time than it takes to tell, she had killed 100 rats and mice, and had a feast herself as well.
Now the king and all his people were so eager to buy the cat that the captain barely had to bargain to get a casket of gold and pearls worth a prince’s ransom.
And so it was that when the ship returned at last to London, the price Dick got in exchange for his cat was worth more than all the ship’s cargo put together. And when Mr Fitzwaryn heard that, although some advised him that it would be too much for so young a man, he insisted Dick should have it all, down to the very last groat. And Dick himself was so generous that he well repaid his master, the captain, and everyone else, even giving something to the cruel cook.
Now when Dick came to the end of his apprenticeship, he had no trouble finding the money to pay the issue fee which was required to make him a freeman. Becoming then a ‘lowys’ or ‘bachelor’, he was also in the happy position of having enough money to open up his own shop and to take on his own apprentices straight away. But even more important than that, perhaps, he now felt he had the right to beg Alice to be his wife – just as she was beginning to give up hope that he would ever ask!