of them as may be purveyed that day to serve the tryntall, and yf eny lack to make it vpp the vij’th daye.  And at the Mounthe daye an oder tryntall to be purveyed hoole of myne executors and to kepe dirige, lawdis and commendacons as is afore reherssed, with iij high massis be note [by note, i.e. with music], oon of the holy gost, an other of owre lady, and an other of Requiem, both buriall, seuenth day and Mounthe daye.  And prests beyng at this obseruance iiij d. at euery tyme and childryn at euery tyme ij d., w’t torches at the buriall xij, and vj at the vij’th day and xij at the mounthe daye, with xxiij’th or xij smale childryn in Rochettes with tapers in theire honds, and as many as may be of them lett them be my god Childryn, and they to haue vj s. viij d. apece; and euery oder child iiij d. apece; and euery man that holdith torches at euery day he to have ij apece; and euery man, woman and child that holdeth upp hound [hand] at eny of thes iij days to haue j d. apece; And also euery god chyld besyde vj s. viij d. apece; and to the Ryngars for all iij dayes x s.; and for mete, drynke, and for twoo Semones of a doctor, and also to haue a dirige at home, or I be borne to the Chirche summa j li.’

Here is something very different from the modest Thomas Betson’s injunction:  ’The costes of my burying to be don not outrageously, but sobrely and discretly and in a meane maner, that it may be unto the worship and laude of Almyghty God.’  The worthy old clothier was not unmindful of the worship and laud of Thomas Paycocke also, and over L500 in modern money was expended upon his burial ceremonies, over and above the cost of founding his new chantry.  Well indeed it was that his eyes were closed in death, ere the coming of the Reformation abolished all the chantries of England, and with them the Paycocke chantry in St Katherine’s aisle, which had provided alms for six poor men weekly.  Thomas Paycocke belonged to the good old days; in a quarter of a century after his death Essex was already changing.  The monks were scattered from the abbey, which stood roofless; the sonorous Latin tongue no longer echoed in the church, nor priests prayed there for the souls of Thomas and his wife and his parents and his father-in-law.  Even the cloth industry was changing, and the county was growing more prosperous still with the advent of finer kinds of cloth, brought over there by feat-fingered aliens, the ‘new drapery’, known as ‘Bays and Says’.  For as the adage says: 

     Hops, reformation, bays and beer
     Came into England all in a year,

and Coggeshall was destined to become more famous still for a new sort of cloth called ‘Coxall’s Whites’, which Thomas Paycocke’s nephews made when he was in his grave.[16] One thing, however, did not change; for his beautiful house still stood in West Street, opposite the vicarage, and was the delight of all who saw it.  It stands there still, and looking upon it today, and thinking of Thomas Paycocke who once dwelt in it, do there not come to mind the famous words of Ecclesiasticus?