The ‘Cely Letters’ give a mass of information about the wool buying at Northleach.  In the May of the same year in which Betson’s partnership with Stonor would seem to have ended, old Richard Cely was up there doing business and reporting it to his son, ‘Jorge Cely at Caleys’.

I greet you well and I have received a letter from you writ at Calais the 13th day of May (1480), the which letter I have well understood of your being at the marts and of the sale of my middle wool, desired by John Destermer and John Underbay.  Wherefore by the grace of God I am abusied for to ship this foresaid 29 sarplers, the which I bought of William Midwinter of Northleach, 26 sarplers, the which is fair wool, as the wool packer Will Breten saith to me, and also the 3 sarplers of the rector’s is fair wool, much finer wool nor was the year before, the which I shipped afore Easter last past.  The shipping is begun at London, but I have none shipped as yet, but I will after these holy days, for the which I will ye order for the freight and other costs.  This same day your brother Richard Cely is rid to Northleach for to see and cast a sort of fell for me and another sort of fell for you.[36]

On another occasion he writes:  ’By your letter you avise me for to buy wool in Cotswold, for which I shall have of John Cely his gathering 30 sack, and of Will Midwinter of Northleach 40 sack.  And I am avised to buy no more; wool in Cotswold is at great price, 13s. 4d. a tod, and great riding for wool in Cotswold as was any year this seven year.’[37] What a picture it calls up of merchants trotting along the roads and looking as Chaucer often saw them look: 

A Marchant was ther with a forked berd,
In motteleye and hye on horse he sat,
Upon his heed a Flaundryssh bever hat,
His boots clasped faire and fetisly;
His resons he spak ful solempnely,
Sounynge alway thencrees of his wynnyng.

Often at Northleach Betson must have encountered his brethren of the Staple, the staid old merchant Richard Cely among the rest, and son George who rides with ‘Meg’, his hawk, on his wrist, and has a horse called ‘Bayard’ and another called ‘Py’; and perhaps also John Barton of Holme beside Newark, the proud stapler who set as a ‘posy’ in the stained glass windows of his house this motto: 

I thank God and ever shall
It is the sheepe hath payed for all;[38]

though indeed it is unlikely that he came as far south as the Cotswolds for his wool.  Sometimes also Betson meets upon the road his rivals, stout, self-possessed Flemings and thin sleek Lombards with black eyes and gesticulating hands, who have no business in the Cotswolds at all, but ought to be buying wool in the mart at Calais.  But they come, and all good Englishmen are angry at their tricks and angrier still perhaps at their successful trade.  ‘I have not as yet packed my wool in London,’ writes old Richard Cely on October 29, 1480; ’nor have I not bought