Peddler of Swaffham

There once was a peddler called John Chapman and he lived with his wife Cateryne and their children Margaret, Hugh and Dominic in the town of Swaffham.

Now one night John had a dream, a man in a surcoat as red as blood came to him.

He woke up: Cateryne, Cateryne I’ve had a dream.

So he turned over and in a few minutes he was asleep. But the man in the red surcoat came again.

Cateryne, Cateryne I’ve had the same dream, and he told her about the man in the red surcoat.

So he turned over and in a few minutes he was asleep.

But when he woke in the morning the dream was vivid, he told Margaret, Hugh and Dominic all about the man in the red surcoat and he told Cateryne again.

So John put his pack on his back and together with his trusty hound he made his way to the market place. He put his pots and pans on his stall and chatted with his friends, the other traders, but all the while the dream was vivid. In the evening he crossed over the market place to the tumbledown church. And there was Master Fuller, the parish priest, a tall, gaunt, distinguished looking man with iron-grey hair dressed in black.

So John told him all about the man in the red surcoat.

For the walls were rickety and uneven, the roof of the north aisle had fallen in and even the spire was crooked.

So John returned home, but still he talked of the vivid dream.

Early the next morning Cateryne put food and a gourd of good ale in John’s pack. He lifted it up onto his shoulders. He took five gold pieces with him, his staff and his cudgel and of course his trusty hound. He kissed Cateryne and the children and he set off on the gold road to London.

It was raining and John and his hound travelled as far as they could before the light failed. That night they slept beneath an oak tree and when they woke in the morning John was so stiff and his poor hound was hobbling about. After that he decided that every night they would sleep either at a monastery or a wayside inn.

After five days they arrived at London, and there was the great bridge spanning the water, and there were buildings on the bridge overhanging the sides, it was a sight to gladden any heart. John Chapman with his hound paced to and fro on the bridge feeling rather foolish.

In the late afternoon a group of pilgrims approached the bridge on horseback they slowed as they went over and started to sing:

Walsingham, why I’ve been there a hundred times, perhaps this is the meaning of my dream.

He was about to ask the pilgrims but they gathered speed.

Wait! Wait! But it was too late.

That night John and his hound stayed at a riverside in called the Three Cranes.

The following day John with his hound was back on the bridge pacing to and fro, still feeling rather foolish. In the late afternoon a man came with a brown bear on a chain.

Another time perhaps. John stretched out his hand to pat the bear.

Just like you and John walked away.

That night they stayed again at the Three Cranes.

The following day John with his hound was back on the bridge still feeling rather foolish.

In the late afternoon a man shaped like an egg came out of one of the shops.

John Chapman arrived home on the twelfth day and Cateryne and the children were delighted to see him. He told they all about his adventures and ended by telling them all about the man shaped like an egg.

John picked up his spade and followed by his family went out into the back garden and started to dig by the hawthorn tree. There was a clunk and he unearthed the top of a metal pot. He dug round the sides so he was able to get his hands underneath and with a tug he pulled it out. The lid came off and gold coins showered over his face and fell onto the ground.

They put it in front of the fire and John lifted the lid.

So the following morning John put his pack on his back including the metal pot and together with his trusty hound made his way to the market place. He placed his pots and pans on his stall with the metal pot at the front. He chatted with his friends, the other traders. Now as luck would have it who should come over but Master Fuller, the parish priest, dark and silent amidst he colour and bustle of the market place.

And with that he gave the metal pot a rap with his knuckles. It rang with a deep fine note.

John Chapman packed up his stall and went home.

They all went into the back garden and Hue started to dig by the hawthorn tree and when he was tired he passed the spade to Margaret. She dug until there was a clunk and then she handed the spade to John who unearthed another metal pot twice the size of the first one and also full of gold pieces, they carried it into the house and placed it by the fire.

So John took a hundred gold pieces for their needs and he and Cateryne carried one pot and Margaret and Hue the other with little Dominic and John’s trusty hound following behind. They arrived at the market place.

And they all went into the tumbledown church. And there was Master Fuller, they tipped the gold pieces onto the floor.

And John told his story much as I have told you neither more nor less. And then Master Fuller did something they’d never seen before, he laughed.

So that night there was a great celebration in Swaffham and the traders carried John on their shoulders around the town and everyone drank his health.

And if you ever go to the parish church in Swaffham you’ll find there’s a statue of a peddler and his trusty hound.

And that is the story, the story of how a man followed his dream and good came of it.