Blasts and Contrasts
1661, Week 3
Shortly after my last post, Colonel Slingsby and I awoke to the cries of troops. We rushed to the yard, where the Comptroller was arming some seamen with handpikes – and thrust one into my hands…
I fear how I’d fair had I been required to use that weapon! The alarm was caused by five or six men who rode through the town without stopping at the order of the guard, and who may have fired off a shot or two – but luckily, by the time we got there, all was quiet.
Even so, ‘tis a sign of how unsettled things continue to be, despite the general favour the King seems to carry. Does my position working for my Lord, one of His Majesty’s closest friends, blind me to a discontent felt by the rest of the nation?
I tried not to think of it too much while stationed in Deptford, focusing instead upon my task of assisting the colonel with the distribution of troops – and distracting myself by admiring all the things of beauty there. The craftsmanship of the shipbuilders and cable coilers! The neat houses of the officers! The seamen exercising! The officers’ wives and daughters…!
Ah… You can see why I didn’t rush to return home! And indeed, it didn’t do my appetite for beauty any favour that I returned on Tuesday to discover Elizabeth away. She’d heard that Mrs Hunt was very ill, and had kindly elected to stay with her.
At least, I trust that was the reason she had elected to stay with our old neighbour, and not to revisit the French lodger who I caught kissing her the other week…
Small mercies, though: Elizabeth took my sister Pal with her. So although I was short of some beauty, at least I was spared some disgust as well.
I spent the rest of that day with Sir William Penn, who is also still very ill. Mr Coventry turned up while I was there, and he did express much kindness to me. I perceive, though, that none of our officers care much for one another. Am I right to keep in with them all as much as I can…?
Ack – you can see how my mind has been drawn in opposing directions this week, mayhap as a result of the tensions of the week prior.
This resulted in some indecision from me, such as when I called upon my Lady Sandwich on Wednesday. I found her gone to Chatham – but according to her servants, she had gone thinking to meet me there!
I was loath to follow her, having missed by own bed for all but one night – and still not having seen Elizabeth since my return. But then, while strolling in Westminster Hall, I chanced upon Mr Child, who claimed to have started out with my Lady but returned when his horse took ill.
Anticipating that this would leave my Lady even more troubled by my absence, I hastened after her. I mean, a sick horse, a sick Sir William, a sick Mrs Hunt… Sickness abounded around me! It had to be a sign that I should stay close to those who need me the most.
(To be fair, there has been news of recovery this week: my aunt, and also Princess Henrietta. Thank God the smallpox shan’t claim another of the King’s kin. Long may she live.)
My Lady confessed that I did cheer her immensely by catching up with her party. That night, we supped merry, and I spent the next day or so presenting her and her daughter Jem with a tour of the ships which took part in our Dutch voyage last year to restore the King.
My Lady took great pleasure to see all the rooms and hear me tell the stories of all that took place there. The officers then presented us with a handsome breakfast – and, as we toasted her husband’s health, they fired off guns in her honour.
The captains joined us for supper that evening, during which my Lady and I debated what is best for a man’s estate: leaving it all to his eldest son (which she is for), or rather to make all equal, as they do in Kent.
My Lady was surprised by my stance, given how I’ve personally benefited from being my father’s main heir above my brothers and sister. But concentrating the family’s wealth on my advancement has left me with the responsibility of attending to my entire family’s needs, which perhaps drains my resources more than if our father had supported us all equally…
Any which way, my Lady enjoyed the discourse, and it left the captains and I merry after we bade her goodnight. In fact, the captains joined me back at the inn – and even though the page and I slept in one bed while the captains slept in the other, we had very good mirth with our most abominable lodging.
I finally returned home to a full house on Friday – albeit a house in turmoil, because our monkey had managed to escape her cage. Ah, it vexed me that I had to beat the poor creature almost to death just so she could be held fast again. But was she not a proxy for London, which had recently been assaulted by fanatics, and I a proxy for the strong hand of the law restoring calm?
If so, my monkey should be pleased she faired better than the fifth monarchists, who were hanged and quartered earlier today.
Will I fair any better, though? After the criminals were despatched at Whitehall, I met with Sir George Carteret there, His Majesty’s Treasurer. We agreed that the Navy should not pay off the fleet, as the commissioners intend – but Sir George confided in me his suspicion that my colleague Thomas Hayter has been placed within my office to spy for the commissioners.
If so, it would indeed undermine both the Treasury and me. What could this mean for my standing – and my neck – in these unsettled times?
I intend to find out the truth…
My purse
I am most lately 295£ clear in my purse.
In return for these words of mine, please pay just one word of yours: a simple ‘For’ or ‘Against’ the idea of equality among heirs. Do you side with my Lady Sandwich or myself?
Speak with you again soon – and may the Lord bless you and keep you till then!
Personally, I'm 'For'. As the oldest of seven, like Sam I sometimes feel the drain of being the one that everyone's supposed to be able to look up to...