Out of the Washbasin, Into the Bath
1660, Week 12
We’re off! Or at least, off land. I write to you now from my cabin aboard the Swiftsure, my muse the sound of waves washing the hull, gulls dirtying the deck… and the moans of my boy Eliezer as he clutches his ear from the boxing I just gave him.
Doltish lad only went and knocked a can of beer upon all the papers I’d been writing these last two days, forcing me to write them all anew.
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That wasn’t the first time my work was thwarted by liquid this week, though. The heavy rains since Sunday caused thousands of pounds of damage to homes around the Thames, drowning several, and cutting me off from my house for a near two days. I had to visit twice to put my things in order before we disembarked.
Ah, the irony. We require wind and water for our journey, but it was high wind and water that delayed the very same. Originally, my Lord had hoped to set off on Wednesday, but it was a full two days later that we finally did so.
That said, my Lord made fine use of those two days! He prepared his Will & Testament on the Thursday, and bid me bear it to his barrister, our cousin Lord William Montagu of Boughton, on the Friday before we set off. Talk about saving things to the last sand-grain…!
I made good use of the time too, though. I had already said my goodbyes to my parents and the Marsh lads, but I met up with the Marsh lads again on Thursday (albeit in the room of fellow underclerk Jeremiah Mount) for further parting drinks.
That same day, I also bought a sword and some shoes from artisans Brigden and Wotton respectively, who then joined me at the Pope’s Head Tavern. We dined, and drank a great deal of wine, and they surprised me by paying for all!
They made me promises, too, for my return from this voyage: a rapier, a gown, a vessel of wine… Wotton even gave me his silver hatband there and then as an assurance that I might remember him! I pray God keep me from being too proud from all this attention, which is surely due to the purpose vested in our voyage rather than my own merit.
Indeed, at the start of the week, Lord Monck’s soldiers were travelling throughout town proclaiming that Cavaliers, papists, and other malignants had two months to disband. Mr Creed, a fellow clerk, likened this to saying “all God’s people should depart the town.” And him a Puritan!
Yet all the public opinion before I left seemed to be that the King will come again. And for all I see, it is the wishes of all – nay, the belief of all – that this will be so.
True as this may be, I am still greatly troubled for poor Elizabeth. Should she be left without me by a misfortune at sea is one thing. Should she be alone when civil unrest returns is another, as would happen were Englishmen to change their minds over the best fortune for our future…
And yet… I do feel merry. And not just from all the parting drinks, nor the beer Sheply and How and I have quaffed in my cabin since. And a fine cabin it is; my Lord has done me a great service, installing me in one he says he would happily habit himself.
I am better dressed than ever before in my life. I have purchased my lute back from the pawnbroker. I attract the awe of all who learn of my journey and my mission.
And, what’s more, the weather has been so calm since we boarded, I haven’t succumbed to seasickness once.
At least, not yet…
How long can it last?
In return for the smiles you took from these words, please send them to a friend!
Your smiles will then be compounded twice: once for sharing joy with your friend, then again for my undying gratitude. {:-)