Aim High, Become a Target
In Week 26 of 1660, Sam and his friends celebrate their rising status in the new order – though not everyone’s happy about it…
Right now, my mind is alternating speedily between abundant excitement and deepening dread. Sitting to write this for you is the most I’ve rested all this while – partly due to work, partly due to our maidservant Jane being recently rendered lame (we hope only temporarily), but mostly from the anxious state of my mind.
That’s not how it was on Monday. Back then, wearing my brand new gloves, I wandered from smiling face to smiling face, sharing in each one’s delight at their new or impending new station.
Mr Coventry, returned from hiding from the Protectorate straight into the role of secretary to His Highness the Duke of York. Mr Southerne, now clerk to Mr Coventry. The fabulous Mr Kipps, my old friend, now sealbearer to the Lord Chancellor – something which well pleased my wife and I, knowing him to be a very good natured man.
And of course, there was my own impending new station. That same day, Mr Coventry promised all the assistance I could expect “once” I am made Clerk of the Acts for the Navy. Mr Turner, who has held the position previously, was very civil to me, and I to him (he is now Purveyor of Petty Provisions, I believe).
Oh – and when Lady Monke’s brother brought a message from her to my Lord and cousin Montagu asking him to desist in his business of furnishing me with the position, my cousin pleasingly retorted that he would not. Why should he? As he himself asked General Monke, via his brother-in-law, the general would take it ill were he to name the officers in his army. Why should the general have any say over my Lord’s choice of officers?
“I prayed on the matter long and hard.”
What a bold thing for my cousin to write to such an esteemed personage as General Monke. But while the general may have been partly responsible for ensuring the mood was right for the King’s return here in London, it was my Lord who actually brought back the King – which he feels clearly gives him the position to speak so openly. It’s hard to see any argument to this, with my Lord now regularly being invited to dine with His Majesty.
So I was in very high spirits at the start of Tuesday. That morning, I paid 16£ for my Lord’s choice of coats and cloaks, then collected his letter for Secretary Nicholas with my Lord’s resolutions about his title: he will be the Earl of Portsmouth. (Sure, his family has little connection to Portsmouth, if any, but it’s a wise choice for a Commissioner of the Admiralty).
On my way back from delivering that letter, though, I was accosted by the merchant Mr Watts. Having built up his relationship with naval officials over the years, he had rather hoped the Clerk of the Acts job might be his – and so he offered me 500£ to pass the job to him.
I was unable to respond there and then – partly because I had to keep my appointment with Mr Townsend to buy 100£ worth of plate from the goldsmith Alderman Backwell, which is to be my Lord’s gift of thanks to Secretary Nicholas for his help procuring his Earldom, but partly because…
Well. 500£ is a lot of money. It’s five times my current wealth! How many years would I need to spend as Clerk of the Acts to be able to set such money aside?
Ah, but would I be able to set it aside if I accepted Mr Watts’ offer, or would it immediately need to be spent on provisions? For my Lord would surely be disappointed with my decision, and I may lose his favour, leaving me unemployed – or, worse, having to go back to work for Sir Downing.
I prayed on the matter long and hard – even on Thursday, when the services were supposed to be for thanksgiving for the King’s return. Indeed, I thought my prayers were answered that very day, since Mr Coventry came to assure me of his support.
So, feeling my fate determined, I strode to Sir Downing’s street. He is so stingy a fellow, I cared not to see him – but in so doing, I could let him know I was standing down from my employment in his office, presenting it such that he now had liberty to take someone else in.
The very next day, Mr Hutchinson informs me that Mr Barlow, the current Clerk of the Acts, whom all thought dead, is indeed yet alive, and is coming up to town after his place.
“I suppose I should pray some more…”
I communicated this to my Lord Montagu. He brushed it off, advising me to continue to ask the relevant authorities for my patent for the role. “I’ll deal with Barlow,” he said.
I haven’t heard anything since. Well yes, that was only yesterday, but… as I said! Anxious state of my mind!
Ah… Perhaps it is easing now, though. For one, it is expunging to write it in this blog for you. For another, life should at least be less hectic at home for a while now we have a new boy, Will, come to support Elisabeth and our maid Jane.
And, perhaps most significantly, Mr Turner has offered 150£ to be joint Clerk of the Acts with me, so he can advise me how to improve the advantage of the position – and help me keep off Barlow.
But again… would my Lord be disappointed were I to accept such an offer?
I suppose I should pray some more…
Speak with you again soon – and may the Lord bless you and keep you till then!