You naughty boy, you’ve had more favours from me than any man in the kingdom. Now get me that paper about the Watermen. They’ve not had their warrants yet, and I’ve not yet had their fees.
But, Nan, you told me that my place in your service was the first step on the Ladder of Preferment.
So it is, Jem, but when you have the honour to be in such delightful company, why should you be in such haste to stir from that first rung? Now earn my love afresh and take Kit for a promenade.
So I was nursemaid again, for Christopher’s first nurse Honour Mills, a low wench that sold apples and oysters, was left at Deptford, and his tutors in Scotland, who were also the General’s chaplains, Dr Gumble and Dr Price, now had other fish to fry. (Price, a royalist, was made a fellow of Eton College and Gumble, an amiable man but slow, was also sent to Eton and then to Winchester as prebend.) Price taught Kit theology and to write a fair hand, and a Mr Gunton taught him mathematics for £2 10s a month, and the dancing master had £10 for his services. I doubt that Gumble taught anything, he was too busy with intrigues. But now Kit had no permanent attendant except your humble servant (which was a part of the bargain that Nan had not forewarned me of, fearing my refusal) and I must go with him everywhere and keep him out of mischief. The boy had one great delight at that time which was to see the Traitors’ heads, and so we would make a round march: first, Cooke’s head on the top of the turret in Palace Yard and Harrison’s on the other side of Westminster Hall, and then Hacker’s and Axtell’s and half a dozen more. Kit would jump up and down with glee and shout, more, more. When I told him how they had been hanged, drawn and quartered, he said why hadn’t I shown him that too and couldn’t the King have them hanged and quartered again so that he could see it? Later we found the limbs of some of the traitors set upon Aldersgate, near Crowe’s the upholsterers, and Kit was happy again. But Lord, he was a bloodthirsty child, and I resolved never to have any children of my own if they were to be like him.
But when I told Nan of her son’s antics, she only chucked him under the chin and said, he’ll be a soldier like his father, won’t he? Then she showed me a book that was richly bound being The history of the thrice illustrious Princess Henrietta Maria de Bourbon, Queen of England.
What of it? I said.
Look there, Jem, at the dedication: To the Paragon of Virtue and Beauty, her Grace the Duchess of Albemarle. And see how the epistle ends: that the rising Sun of your Grace’s Virtues and Honours may still soar higher but never know a declension. There, Jem, isn’t that fine?
I do not see that this rising sun shines greatly upon me.
Oh Jeremiah, you’re too grudging. Can’t you appreciate a pretty compliment?
It depends to whom that compliment is paid, I said pompously.
In the afternoon to the Privy Seal, where good stir of work now toward the end of the month. From thence with Mr Mount, Llewelyn and others to the Bull Head till late, and so home.
Diary of Samuel Pepys, 27 August 1660
To my office at Privy Seal in the afternoon, and from thence at night to the Bull Head with Mount, Llewelyn and others.
29 August 1660
In the afternoon Llewelyn comes to my house and takes me out to the Mitre in Wood Street where Mr Samford, W. Symons and his wife and Mrs Scobell, Mr Mount and Chetwynd. Where we were very merry – Llewelyn being drunk and I being to defend the ladies from his kissing them, I kissed them myself very often with a great deal of mirth. Parted very late, they by coach to Westminster and I on foot.
4 September 1660
From thence by water to Parliament Stairs and there at an alehouse to Doling (who is suddenly to go into Ireland to venture his fortune), Symons (who is at a great loss for 200l. present money, which I was loth to let him have; though I could now do it and do love him and think him honest and sufficient, yet loathness to part with money did dissuade me from it), Llewelyn (who was very drowzy from a dose that he hath got the last night), Mr Mount and several others.
6 December 1660
London was lit up again now the King was returned. The theatres were restored too, and I saw the Moor of Venice, the Merry Wives of Windsor, the Silent Woman, etc. Every man took wine with his neighbour, and there was much making of music and bawdry in the alehouses. The old crew that was in the Exchequer were not yet scattered. The Ins and the Outs still were on speaking terms, although little Peter Llewelyn was so drowsy that he could scarcely speak and great Mr Pepys was so full of his business that we found it more profit to beseech him to play upon his flageolet or the new guitar that he had brought with him out of Holland.
But when Sam was in wine I loved him better, for then he was a rogue unashamed. At the Mitre in Wood Street one night with the old crew, Will Symons and his wife, Mrs Scobell and Chetwynd, little Llewelyn announced that he would kiss all the ladies to determine whose lips had the most perfect shape and Pepys made him sit down (which was not difficult, for he could scarcely stand up) and said that it was his office as Clerk of the Acts to defend the fair sex against lewd acts of all kinds and that for the advancement of science he must carry out the experiment himself, at which he began to kiss the ladies so often that their cheeks became flushed and I was moved with desire to kiss them myself but they said that Mr Pepys’s experiment sufficed. All the time I wondered that Mrs Pepys did not come with him to the alehouse as Will Symons’s wife did, but Pepys said she had much to do at their new house and besides she believed him to be upon his lord’s business.
On such capering nights I forgot my trouble and rejoiced with the rest of the monde that the easy times were come back. And when I returned to His Grace’s lodgings and the soldiers saluted me I tripped on the step, and the captain of the guard said, it’s a slippery night, sir), then it seemed my lot was truly set in a fair ground. Yet in the colder light of morn, there were less favourable signs and portents.
Nan was so taken up with her affairs that she had little time to spare for her attendant cavalier. Look at these pearls, Jem, aren’t they fine? They come as a gift from the loyal citizens of Portsmouth, and this necklace of garnets, it’s from Mr Warren the timber merchant who has grown great on the Swedish trade and is to supply the Navy. And she would hold up the jewels to her neck and stand near to the candle so that I might see the effect. Yet I could not but see that her neck had grown taut as two bowstrings and that the jewels would have looked better on Mrs Pepys, for she had a fine swan’s neck though her teeth were so prominent.
Yet flattery has a cormorant’s appetite. The recipient always wants more and better compliments. And she began to complain that the Mayor and Corporation of such-and-such a town had treated her in a very scurvy fashion and she knew that the jewels in the pendant were paste gems not worth sixpence.
Some people have no sense of what is fitting, Jem. The Verderers have asked for their licences to be renewed but won’t pay more than £100 for the privilege which is no more than they paid in the time of the late martyred King, and hasn’t there been a steepling rise in prices since then? It’s too vexing and I’ve half a mind to abandon these troublesome affairs, were it not for the duty I owe to the General to see to these matters.
One night, I came into her chamber unannounced at my usual time when the General was away. And I saw her in the window-seat with the little round table before her and a fine walnut box chased with gold lying open. I could see the jewels shining in the box and her hands were dabbling in the jewels as a child will paddle his hands in the water.
She said, come here, Jem, and began to unbutton my coat. When my shoulders were naked she took some chains and necklaces out of the box and hung me with them. Then she instructed me to do the same to her, so that we were both naked but for the jewels. There, Jeremiah, she said, we are garlanded like the King and Queen of the May. She stood up against me so that the jewels rubbed against my bare flesh and vice versa. Lord but the cold stones made me shiver. Yet that cold shiver became another shiver that was hot. We tumbled upon the bed. When we were fi
nished, she took the jewels off me and put them back in the box, as the leader of a troupe of actors will put back the properties after the play is done.
Now, Jem, she said, we are just as we began.
And as we shall finish, madam.
Oh, Jem, don’t become tragical with me, I cannot tolerate tragedy.
I savoured these nocturnal rewards of my office, for the daytime had become a burden. Kit, although he was scarcely seven, had become conscious of his greatness.
You must call me my lord.
No, Kit, I will not, for you are my charge. I will call you my lord when you are grown.
No, now, you must call me my lord now.
I had to take His Lordship to his lessons in fencing and dancing and equitation, and wherever we went I fancied I could hear idle tongues saying: There goes Monck’s bastard. It is a paradox, that the greater and richer Their Graces became, the more the tongues wagged. It was positively stated that Radford was not only living but had been seen at Whitehall and that the Duchess had paid him off or that he had been settled on a goodly estate in Devon under an alias.
It’s none of your business, Jem, she said. Radford died soon after you and I first parted, and that’s all you need to know. I have done that poor honest man enough wrong to let him rest quiet in his grave. If you wish to join that ill-natured company which refuses to believe my word that we were married, the General and I, you may go to St George’s Church, Southwark and look at the register. And then you may go on to Africa or Tartary, for I don’t wish to live with a doubting Thomas.
Nan, there was a man from Devon who called last week, wasn’t there, when you sent me and Kit away to survey the building of the tennis court?
Jem, I have many visitors on business, and I will not be questioned as though I were brought before a magistrate.
Thus I knew that she had received such a visitor, and that the footman who had told me the man came from Devon upon private business had spoken the truth. What his business could be, I could not guess. I went secretly to St George’s and asked the clerk to show me the entry, which was just as she had said, though it was not worth much without its being certified that Radford was dead.
Then came a dismal day. It took me so much by surprise that I had scarcely breath to respond when Nan called me to her chamber and said as follows:
Jem, you’re an importunate boy and I know how earnestly you desire some extra duty that would befit your station more properly. Well, I have made inquiries during my peregrinations (a word she would never have employed in the old days) among the great ladies of the town. And I’ve noticed that the Duchess of York takes it as a matter of course that her gentleman-usher should wait upon her at table, in a superior capacity I need scarce say. This is a high historical function which ought not to be omitted.
But –
You may find it strange at first, but I beseech you to recall that an earl or a duke may be proud to assist his sovereign in putting on his breeches or to remove his chaise percée. Indeed, he will regard this personal service as a gilding of his office, for that it brings him the closer to his master. In your case, Jem, it may be said that you’re close enough already, but the world doesn’t know that, and I don’t choose that the world learn it.
But –
I think that to perform this office would be to do honour to yourself, for the world would then recognise how intimate a member you are of the first family in the land, I mean, the first not of the royal sort. Moreover, it would throw the hounds off the scent, if ever they get wind of our amour, for they would not believe that a duchess could love one who waits at her table.
There was some contradiction in these latter remarks, for if my serving at table was to elevate my position, how then could it make me not more likely to be my mistress’s lover? But I was too agitated to detect the contradiction.
Madam, I will not do it.
Sir, you will.
I am not a serving man.
Oh Jem, you’ll grow fond of the office. Many young gentlemen acquire breeding and manners by serving in the house of a genteel neighbour. It is the best way to polish.
I am polished enough as it is.
Jem, I must remind you of where we stand. I have only to whisper to the General that you’ve become, shall we say, a trifle insolent of late, that you’ve presumed upon my favour, that you’re an irreconcilable Puritan, that I don’t care for you to be so near our son Christopher who is soft wax and may easily be impressed upon, that –
Enough, Nan. I’ll try the experiment for a month or two in the winter, but I beg you to release me by the spring.
You are a good boy, Jem, I knew you would be. Here, take this. This shall be your chain of office.
And she gave me a gold chain that she had received from the Colliers Company of Newcastle that hoped to sell their coals to the royal household and the generals. It was a pretty chain, but to me it was a slave’s halter.
But soon I was too busy to mind my humiliation. For the serving of great dinners requires great preparations. I was a novice, Nan a stickler. We must have forks, she would say, and a clean white cloth, to hide the stains under a jug or trencher is in vain, for when the vessel is moved during dinner the stain will be shown.
The General cared nothing for these things. He never called for food or drink, ate but once a day and drank only at dinner but could drink deep enough if there were other soldiers present, though I never saw him drunken.
The General’s lodging was large, but it was not convenient. There was no separate dining-chamber such as modern houses have, but the dinner must be taken in the great saloon which was a mile away from the kitchens below. Thus Nan or His Grace would call for dinner at noon, when it was already half past eleven o’clock, and we must make haste to bring the table out from the side, set the chairs around, lay the cloth, and arrange the cutlery and flatware upon it, and then fetch the wine from the cask and put it in the new Flemish bottles that the King had given them, send orders to the cook to make hot the pasties and puddings and chines, take the oysters and anchovies out of the barrel, bring the bread and cheese from the larder and then carry them all up the winding stair past the privy which was on a sort of mezzanino and stank and might be occupied by the gentry who wished to void their bladders before dinner, so that there would be a crushing on the stairs between the laden serving men with their pots and dishes and the impatient gentlemen (the ladies’ privy was on the other side of the chamber and was sweetened with herbs and flowers). Besides, the kitchen was so far away that the hot dishes were cold as stone by the time they reached the table and in hot weather the salads smelled of the privy, but His Grace did not care and Nan who was so particular about the silver and the napery was not particular about her person and did not always smell like a duchess (although my acquaintance among duchesses was slight as yet and, for all I knew, they might be as negligent as Nan).
Our first great dinner was in honour of the Duke of York, the King’s brother, that was later king himself and a silly one (for he had no more notion how to keep a crown than his father had). But he was a gracious guest and although Tom, the new footman, dropped a venison pasty down the stairs, nothing untoward happened at table. When they were done which was not before seven o’clock (which Nan thought very creditable), the Duke of York rose from his chair, handed me his napkin and said: A fine dinner, a very fine dinner – which pleased me mightily.
Now I suppose we must entertain Sandwich, the General said the next day, when we were conducting an inquest upon the dinner.
Why, my lord, said Nan (her cheeks began to redden with anger), we owe him nothing, and he’s no friend of ours.
That is why we must ask him to dinner, the General grunted, or he will think us his enemy.
If he’s so hostile, one dinner won’t cure his mistrust.
No, but it will calm him. He is an agitated man, the sort who has climbed high but fears he must go on climbing or he will fall. I don’t wish him to think that I am shaking t
he ladder.
Very well, my dear, you are the strategist. Jem will set a grand pacifying dinner for him, will you not, Jem?
With pleasure, madam.
But there was no pleasure at all in the prospect. My lord Sandwich was nothing to me, I scarcely knew him, but I feared lest he should bring with him the new Clerk to the Acts that had risen with his master so fast, viz. Mr Pepys.
Yet all was well. My lord Sandwich came to dinner with his ladies and they were as merry as midsummer day, but I took note that, though they both drank deep, neither His Grace nor His Lordship said anything of how they had brought the King in, for they were both secret men who did not care to reveal their tricks lest they should have need of them again. Moreover, if they were to trace their previous path too plainly, they would discover their snipe’s course to the public eye and lose credit. For there were men who swore that Monck was for the republic until the day when he sent for the King. In vino, taciturnitas was the motto of both. But it was a convivial meeting and its great quality was – the absence of Mr Pepys.
Nan was grateful to me for my work, and she showed me her love in the old way, and gave me a ring with an Indian stone to seal our alliance, she said.
You will come with me everywhere, Jem, I can’t do without you.
How do you mean, my lady?
No my-ladies, Jem. When I go out to dine with these tedious greatlings, I have need of an ally, and why should not my gentleman-usher accompany me? Besides, you look so handsome in your gold chain.
You wish me to come as your servant?
No, Jem, as my friend and counsellor, just as my lord Sandwich is Master of the Great Wardrobe to the King and yet also his valued counsellor and friend.
The cases are not parallel, I said, and yet I agreed, for we were lying in that sweet state post coitus, which is all languor and delight and I could not refuse her anything (although in truth her power was superior, for I had no other connection and must continue to rely willy-nilly upon her favour).
Jem (and Sam) Page 11
