The Stonor letters and papers, 1290-1483; ed. for the Royal historical society, from the origial documents in the Public record office, by Charles Lethbridge Kingsford.
Kingsford, Charles Lethbridge, editor. 1862-1926.
Page  22, vol. 2


"Your servant Christoffyre" is probably Christopher Holland. As to John Elmys see No. 60. Hugh Fenne was a ward of Stonor, see vol. i, p. xxix. The signature and postscript are autograph. From A.C., xlvi, 120.

Jhesu Ao xvij.

Ryght enterly and best belovyd husbond, I recomaund me unto you as hertely as I can. Syre, I have ress[eyved] a letter ffrom you, and a nothyr letter þat my son Betson sent you and a tokyn from you be your servant Christoffyre, whech letter I have red and ryght well undyrstond. And as towchyng John Elmys, truly, syre, he is a marvelus man: I con|seyve be my son þat he wold goo from his promesse þat he made to you and to hym of his woll þat hyt suchld*. [I. e. schuld.] aryse as good in pokyng thys ȝere as hyt ded þe last ȝere: and þat I consyve he cannot make good: but never þe lesse I dout not but þat you and my son Betson wyll handyll þe matyrs well I-nowe: ffore blessyd be God ȝe be on þe surere syde: ffore all þe sayde woll I have ress[eyved] hyte and fayer howsyd hyt: and ȝyt ffore all that I wot well þat you and my son wylnot dele with hym othyrewyse than ryght and consyes wyll requere, and þat is best. Syre, I thank you hertely þat hyt plesyd you to wyshe me with you at redyng off my letter: truly I wold I had a be there with you at þe same seson with all my hert. And as towchyng my brothyre Stonore, truly syre ther was no bodye þat tellyd me precysly þat hyt was he, but I knowe well hyt was he, ffore hyt was sayde to me þat I kept you here among a meany of boyes with othyre langwage more, whech was not fyttyng fore to have such langwage of any servant that long to you ore me: fore, and he remembyre hym selff well, he hath no cause to saye of me otherwyse than well: fore I never sayde to dysplease hym be my wyll, but fore hys own worshypp, and þat knowyth God, how ever pre|serve you. At London, þe vij day of Marche. Cateryn and Hue Fenne recomaund them unto you, and they pray fore you as they can. And Page  23, vol. 2 Syre Wyllm. Stavelye and all your howshold ffaryth well, blessyd be God.

By your owne to my pouer Elysabeth Stonore.

My good Cosen, I am crassed in my baket: you wat what I men.

To my ryght worschypfull Cosyn Wyllm. Stonore, squyer, at Stonore be this delyvered.