I found these love letters in a wooden box behind the used bookstore on Walsingham Avenue.
They speak of elegance, love, a time of romance, a history of decadent feasting.
As I pored over the aged parchments, carefully opening the waxen seals that kept the content locked away for so many centuries, I could almost hear the music from within the castle walls, and taste the mulled wine being poured from their casks.
I devoured his proclamations of amour to his inamorata.
His gifts of true love unfolded through the written profession of his heart.
I had a bit of trouble with the first letter as the ink had faded and the words were muddled.
Some words were in French and some in English, and sometimes difficult to decipher - especially the one dated December 26th. I could make out that he was writing of a gift. Was it a bird? Or was it a basket of the sweetest fruits? Perhaps a...tree? That's silly, who would want a tree for a gift of love.
I could make out the word"Perdix" - I shall have to look it up. It's not a word I recognize at all.
Scouring the scripted notes of his sonnets and sentiments, I searched for more.
A poem. Dated the very next day. I should like love letters two days in a row!
"Doves for my love, pure and white as morning snow,
as oft my thoughts wander the valleys of love 'ere I go.
My heart, forever yours will be
if I can always love thee. ~ yours always, Leander"
Oh how he must have loved her!
Oh to be his captor of love!
"My dearest Aurelia,
'Tis not much, but I am sending something prepared by one of the finest cooks I have met on this venture. These three hens have not been spared their lives, for you seem to be wasting away, my love, and a hearty meal you must eat before anymore days pass. I must have you healthy on my return! I shall be home in nine days time. - L."
Nine days time?
Was he returning from a crusade? A battle perhaps? Some journey to a far away land?
The next three letters were filled with mention of colley birds baked in a delicious meat pies (for her, no less), five pheasants and six delicious goose eggs. (I dare say it would be impossible to waste away with all of this food fit for a king!)
So many letters!
"1. January. 1619
I hope to arrive home and find my dearest, truest love, rosy cheeked and sweetened with the succulence of the season. Another gift have I sent ahead of me. I regret to say that one of the noblemen of the house of Essex has passed on, leaving behind his property and everything belonging to it. Though the king is entitled to its entirety, I sent a messenger ahead to request that you partake in the special occasion of the feasting upon this prized poultry. It is not every day that we are expectant of such a luxury, and you, my dear, as a beautiful lady-in-waiting, have been invited to his majesty's feast.
Have you guessed it yet? What I have sent ahead to the banquet hall for preparation?
I shall bear you a hint.
They swim with grace; color of lace
to see the smile upon your face
when you see this feast upon your plate
the tasty treat will have been worth the wait!
I am counting down the hours till I once again will hold you in my arms.
Only five more days and I shall return.
Truly yours, forever ~ L.
So many gifts has he given her! So much love!
I close my eyes and dream of such romance, but to see it written before me is a tangible hope for my own paramour.
The next letter made me laugh.
Apparently, Lord Fairmount of Wales, could produce no male heirs, but ably brought forth not one, but eight very beautiful, but very supple daughters. Gathering from the letter, Leander paid a handsome sum to have these maids brought to court for the festivities and for one reason only: to entertain the wandering eyes of the nobles and distract them from his own true love's beauty. (it seems as though some things never change with time!)
"My dearest,
The days are growing a shorter distance between us, but there is no shortage of my love for you. Our caravan is growing in size rather quickly and we shall be there in four days, just in time for the feast. Last night was our final stop, and I had the pleasure of dining with the Duke of Yorkshire and finally enjoying a night of revelry instead of duties. The players played extraordinarily well and the revels were masters in their crafts of dancing and merriment. I wanted so much to surprise you, but alas, I shall need your help by the grace of your hospitality. I hope this is not too much to ask of you, for I know your days are long and the castle is buzzing with the excitement of the upcoming festivities, but I need help in readying the guests quarters. I am bringing to the court, thirty-three of England's finest players! I know how engaged you are when watching the Morris dancers, and there shall be ten from their troupe performing in the celebration, no doubt leaping through the banquet hall.
Sweetheart, I know you will be dining with me at our reserved place at the king's table, but these men of Scotland haven't seen the likes of the beauteous women of England. I was hoping to provide them with nine of the loveliest of the ladies in waiting, for they should love a good romp with them and take them for a turn about the dance floor. I would ask for one more, but it seems as though one of the dancers fancies the likes of one of the musicians and is in no need of lady friend. I don't think he would be devastated if we didn't have a lady companion for him, but perhaps we might introduce him to your brother...(you know I jest, but it would be a more suited match!)
There are a dozen drummers who will be in the grand hall by request of the king for his entrance, and for the musical announcement of the courses as the feast progresses and new dishes are served. Though they are to be present by order of the king, know that each beat of my heart is louder than the beats of the drums. Had I twelve hearts, they would beat stronger for you than any troupe of musicians could ever hope to match with their tunes.
I believe there are not quite a dozen musicians - perhaps eleven - all with the most wonderfully sounding bagpipes I have yet to hear in all my travels. I threw in an extra forty ducats with the promise that they would play your favorite carol after the dessert is served. Perhaps you can bring your music as well and sing for the king. I know your modesty keeps you from it, but darling, your voice is that of a nightingale and should be heard. I'll bet the pipers would play your tune as an accompaniment to your lovely song.
My love, I know it seems as though I travel only for the king's requests and out of gracious servitude for this kingdom, but you must know this. In all my travels, I can think of nothing but returning home to you. I know in all this preparation for Twelfth Night, and all that I have been summoned to gather, it seems as though I am doing it all for the king and his court, but what he does not know, is that even if you and I were to be feasting alone, I would have ventured to the farthest of lands to make your Twelfth Night as stately as is fit for a king. All of this that I do for him, I would do a thousand times over for you.
My heart is yours as you indeed are my true love. ~ Leander"
Twelve letters in all.
Every one filled with love and promise of a happy ending.
They say you can't write love as it is, that words turn love to an unattainable fantasy of the heart.
Aurelia and Leander had this unattainable love.
A timeless romance that will forever remain theirs and forever be remembered through his written words.
As I closed up the box, I found a piece of paper, folded into a tiny square and tied with a velvet ribbon. As I unfolded the paper, music notes drifted through the yellowed page with words so familiar written in script beneath them. It was then that I grasped that the gift she gave to him that Twelfth Night is one that is for all to enjoy through the end of time. Twelve days of selfless love, returned by an immortality through song.
That is what his true love gave to him on that twelfth day of Christmas.
They speak of elegance, love, a time of romance, a history of decadent feasting.
As I pored over the aged parchments, carefully opening the waxen seals that kept the content locked away for so many centuries, I could almost hear the music from within the castle walls, and taste the mulled wine being poured from their casks.
I devoured his proclamations of amour to his inamorata.
His gifts of true love unfolded through the written profession of his heart.
I had a bit of trouble with the first letter as the ink had faded and the words were muddled.
Some words were in French and some in English, and sometimes difficult to decipher - especially the one dated December 26th. I could make out that he was writing of a gift. Was it a bird? Or was it a basket of the sweetest fruits? Perhaps a...tree? That's silly, who would want a tree for a gift of love.
I could make out the word"Perdix" - I shall have to look it up. It's not a word I recognize at all.
Scouring the scripted notes of his sonnets and sentiments, I searched for more.
A poem. Dated the very next day. I should like love letters two days in a row!
"Doves for my love, pure and white as morning snow,
as oft my thoughts wander the valleys of love 'ere I go.
My heart, forever yours will be
if I can always love thee. ~ yours always, Leander"
Oh how he must have loved her!
Oh to be his captor of love!
"My dearest Aurelia,
'Tis not much, but I am sending something prepared by one of the finest cooks I have met on this venture. These three hens have not been spared their lives, for you seem to be wasting away, my love, and a hearty meal you must eat before anymore days pass. I must have you healthy on my return! I shall be home in nine days time. - L."
Nine days time?
Was he returning from a crusade? A battle perhaps? Some journey to a far away land?
The next three letters were filled with mention of colley birds baked in a delicious meat pies (for her, no less), five pheasants and six delicious goose eggs. (I dare say it would be impossible to waste away with all of this food fit for a king!)
So many letters!
"1. January. 1619
I hope to arrive home and find my dearest, truest love, rosy cheeked and sweetened with the succulence of the season. Another gift have I sent ahead of me. I regret to say that one of the noblemen of the house of Essex has passed on, leaving behind his property and everything belonging to it. Though the king is entitled to its entirety, I sent a messenger ahead to request that you partake in the special occasion of the feasting upon this prized poultry. It is not every day that we are expectant of such a luxury, and you, my dear, as a beautiful lady-in-waiting, have been invited to his majesty's feast.
Have you guessed it yet? What I have sent ahead to the banquet hall for preparation?
I shall bear you a hint.
They swim with grace; color of lace
to see the smile upon your face
when you see this feast upon your plate
the tasty treat will have been worth the wait!
I am counting down the hours till I once again will hold you in my arms.
Only five more days and I shall return.
Truly yours, forever ~ L.
So many gifts has he given her! So much love!
I close my eyes and dream of such romance, but to see it written before me is a tangible hope for my own paramour.
The next letter made me laugh.
Apparently, Lord Fairmount of Wales, could produce no male heirs, but ably brought forth not one, but eight very beautiful, but very supple daughters. Gathering from the letter, Leander paid a handsome sum to have these maids brought to court for the festivities and for one reason only: to entertain the wandering eyes of the nobles and distract them from his own true love's beauty. (it seems as though some things never change with time!)
"My dearest,
The days are growing a shorter distance between us, but there is no shortage of my love for you. Our caravan is growing in size rather quickly and we shall be there in four days, just in time for the feast. Last night was our final stop, and I had the pleasure of dining with the Duke of Yorkshire and finally enjoying a night of revelry instead of duties. The players played extraordinarily well and the revels were masters in their crafts of dancing and merriment. I wanted so much to surprise you, but alas, I shall need your help by the grace of your hospitality. I hope this is not too much to ask of you, for I know your days are long and the castle is buzzing with the excitement of the upcoming festivities, but I need help in readying the guests quarters. I am bringing to the court, thirty-three of England's finest players! I know how engaged you are when watching the Morris dancers, and there shall be ten from their troupe performing in the celebration, no doubt leaping through the banquet hall.
Sweetheart, I know you will be dining with me at our reserved place at the king's table, but these men of Scotland haven't seen the likes of the beauteous women of England. I was hoping to provide them with nine of the loveliest of the ladies in waiting, for they should love a good romp with them and take them for a turn about the dance floor. I would ask for one more, but it seems as though one of the dancers fancies the likes of one of the musicians and is in no need of lady friend. I don't think he would be devastated if we didn't have a lady companion for him, but perhaps we might introduce him to your brother...(you know I jest, but it would be a more suited match!)
There are a dozen drummers who will be in the grand hall by request of the king for his entrance, and for the musical announcement of the courses as the feast progresses and new dishes are served. Though they are to be present by order of the king, know that each beat of my heart is louder than the beats of the drums. Had I twelve hearts, they would beat stronger for you than any troupe of musicians could ever hope to match with their tunes.
I believe there are not quite a dozen musicians - perhaps eleven - all with the most wonderfully sounding bagpipes I have yet to hear in all my travels. I threw in an extra forty ducats with the promise that they would play your favorite carol after the dessert is served. Perhaps you can bring your music as well and sing for the king. I know your modesty keeps you from it, but darling, your voice is that of a nightingale and should be heard. I'll bet the pipers would play your tune as an accompaniment to your lovely song.
My love, I know it seems as though I travel only for the king's requests and out of gracious servitude for this kingdom, but you must know this. In all my travels, I can think of nothing but returning home to you. I know in all this preparation for Twelfth Night, and all that I have been summoned to gather, it seems as though I am doing it all for the king and his court, but what he does not know, is that even if you and I were to be feasting alone, I would have ventured to the farthest of lands to make your Twelfth Night as stately as is fit for a king. All of this that I do for him, I would do a thousand times over for you.
My heart is yours as you indeed are my true love. ~ Leander"
Twelve letters in all.
Every one filled with love and promise of a happy ending.
They say you can't write love as it is, that words turn love to an unattainable fantasy of the heart.
Aurelia and Leander had this unattainable love.
A timeless romance that will forever remain theirs and forever be remembered through his written words.
As I closed up the box, I found a piece of paper, folded into a tiny square and tied with a velvet ribbon. As I unfolded the paper, music notes drifted through the yellowed page with words so familiar written in script beneath them. It was then that I grasped that the gift she gave to him that Twelfth Night is one that is for all to enjoy through the end of time. Twelve days of selfless love, returned by an immortality through song.
That is what his true love gave to him on that twelfth day of Christmas.
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