Chapter II

OF MY TARRYING IN LONDON AND OF MY SAILING IN THE GOOD SHIP BOSCOBEL, AND ALSO OF MY MAKING AN ENEMY IN MR VANE SPENDER.

’Twas in the month of January 1663-64,[8] that I rid away from Ellswether, mounted on my father’s war-horse Gustavus, with our servant Miles behind me, on a beast taken from the plough, and bade farewell to my home for more than twenty long years. And looking back for to view the Hall once more, I did see my cousin Dorothy waving her handkercher, and heard her cry to me, “True knight for true lady, Cousin Ned!” which words of hers did much move me, so that I rid in silence for some time. But passing Mr Sternhold his house, there come out that good attorney himself, and would ride with me some miles of my way, parting from me at the last with much sorrow, and asking my acceptance of a book of wise counsels (said he) for young gentlemen that were going to foreign parts, called ‘The Merchant’s Avizo,’ which I received with much thanks, and have often found cause to be grateful for the same. And Mr Sternhold leaving us, we journeyed on without remark nor disaster, and in process of time came to London town. Here the first night I lay at an inn (whose name I have now forgot), and in the morning I did send Miles for to acquaint my lord duke of my being arrived, and to inquire when it should be convenient for me to wait upon his grace, and testify my gratefulness for his kindness. But in less than an hour Miles came back, not alone, but with him my lord duke’s chaplain, Dr Ruthven, in his grace’s coach, for to carry me to Belfort Place (which leadeth off from the Strand), there to abide while as I should be in town. So I with the chaplain in the coach, Miles following with the beasts, to his grace’s mansion, where I lay so long as I remained in London, eating with the family,[9] and once or twice at my lord duke’s own table, where his grace showed himself mighty condescending towards me, and asked of my father’s health, and likewise of that of Mrs Dorothy Brandon, his grace’s kinswoman.

“I had thought,” said he, “of having the young damsel here, for to breed her up with my own little girls; but there was some that showed me divers difficulties in the way.”

Methought, as I looked upon the visage of her grace the duchess, that I saw who she was that had showed the difficulties, and truly Dr Ruthven informed me thereafter that I was right.

“Well,” says my lord duke, more cheerfully, “there is plenty of time yet. Perchance, should Mrs Dorothy wed suitably with her quality, we may be able to provide her a marriage portion.”

But looking again upon the duchess, I foresaw that she would have her say concerning this also, and indeed we have heard no more of the marriage portion up to this present time of my writing.

Now in other matters also was my lord duke very gracious to me, in especial in carrying me into his privy cabinet, where he was wont to make experiment into the secrets of Nature, and did discourse to me mighty ingeniously concerning humours and transmutations and efficient and material causes and radical heat and the like, all which I do now much regret that I set them not down at the time; but having once let slip, the years between have blotted out the clear recollection thereof. And at other times I was under the particular charge of Dr Ruthven, that had known my mother, having been in the service of my late lady duchess before that his grace the now duke had attained to his title, and entreated me most gently for her sake. ’Twas with him I paid a visit to that place of much resort, the New Exchange, where I must needs buy for Dorothy her fan and her girdle, and truly I had not believed that there could be so many fans in the world, and Dr Ruthven and I were sorely troubled to choose one among ’em all. ’Twas also with Dr Ruthven that I presented myself in Leadenhall Street, at the house of the Honourable Company I should serve from thenceforth, and having testified my thanks to the gentlemen of the Committee for their acceptance of me, was enrolled on their books. Here, while I was waiting in an outer room while Dr Ruthven visited upon one of his friends, that was a clerk or factor in the house, I fell in with a young gentleman, by name Mr Vane Spender, who wished to put a quarrel upon me, and all because my nomination had been received before his own. By this means I gained I know not what immunity or privilege, but ’twas such as made Mr Spender conceive himself deeply injured at my hands. But I, foreseeing that if we should be _cameradoes_ (as the soldiers say) in the Indies, we were well to endeavour ourselves to live in peace, did address myself to speak him fair, so that his anger cooled before we parted. And here again you shall see how false it is to say that on my first falling in with Mr Spender, I incited him to wrath by the arrogancy and haughtiness of my behaviour, since I did my best to conduct myself handsomely towards him.

Some two or three days after this meeting was the 30th of January, being the day set apart for ever for the remembrance and deploring of that dreadful, bloody, and tremendous crime, the murder of our late sovereign lord, King Charles the Martyr, which was then but lately appointed as a fast-day by authority for the continual reprobating of the same. So in the morning to his grace’s chapel, where was preached a most moving sermon by Dr Ruthven, such as was like to teach us all the horror and wickedness of rebelling against the Lord’s anointed. And after dinner, it not being fit to go to see shows on such a day, I was left idle, and chose to walk abroad in my mourning habit, meditating in myself upon the observance of this day at home. For there it had been my duty in the afternoon to read aloud to my father the later chapters of that most truthful and pathetic book, the ‘Eikon Basilike,’ until Dorothy and Mrs Skipwith was moved to tears, and Sir Harry would look lovingly at his sword and armour on the wall. Walking thus, I heard on a sudden my name called, and looking up, saw Mr Vane Spender at the window of a tavern, bidding me come in and drink with him. And I, answering that I had no list to drink that day, did walk on, but in a moment come Mr Spender running after me, and cries--

“Nay, Mr Carlyon, sure you must come. Here is his lordship desires to speak with you.”

Then I, being fain, as I have said, to keep well with Mr Spender, and being moreover curious to know who his lordship should be, that desired to speak with me, made answer that I would sit a while in their company willingly, but would not drink. So he, and I after him, to an upper room of the tavern, where was Mr Spender’s elder brother, Mr Hampden Spender, and with him a gentleman in a very rich habit, as little mourning as could well be worn that day by any loyal person.

“Come, sir,” says Mr Hampden Spender, “call for what you will.”

“I thank you, sir,” says I, “but with your permission I won’t drink. Your brother hath fetched me in to pleasure his lordship yonder, which I’m desirous to do so far as my power allow.”

“Oh, come,” saith he again, “even though your grandmother _be_ dead, Mr Carlyon, there’s none here will carry home tales of your drinking in a tavern on her funeral-day.”

“Sir,” said I, “’tis because this is a fast-day appointed that I don’t drink, and if it wan’t, I trust I should be little like to forget what happened thereon.”

“You are putting an affront upon me, sir,” cries Mr H. Spender, mighty fierce. “Pray, are you too nice to drink with us? Do you know in whose company you are, sir?”

“Sir,” says I, “you are seeking to put a quarrel upon me, as I call his lordship to witness. If you desire me to settle this matter by force of arms, I am ready to pleasure you, if his lordship will certify me that I am right in so doing.”

I saw Mr Spender’s countenance change at this, as I had looked it should, since, as I discovered afterwards from Dr Ruthven, his father had been but an attorney, who, meddling with great business in the troubles of the last reign, had gained for himself a high place and some esteem among the rebels. This son of his, Mr Hampden Spender, attained to a seat in the Commons’ House of that Parliament which was jestingly called the _Rump_, and had showed himself exceeding eager in the matter of the conferring upon my lord Duke of Albemarle of power to treat with the king on behalf of his Commons. Now that his majesty was happily returned, Mr H. Spender was in good favour with him, and was wont to take occasion by this favour to aspire higher than his original[10] might seem to us loyal gentlemen to warrant.

“Come, Spender, let the lad be,” says my lord, not ill-humouredly, on our reaching this pass. “’Twas you brought him here; why should you press him to drink? You han’t no cause to pick a quarrel, even if Mr Carlyon thought fit to fight you.”

“I bow to your lordship,” says Mr Spender, and gulps down his wine with an angry face.

“Pray, sir,” says his lordship, turning to me, “tell me whether I ben’t speaking to the son of Sir Harry Carlyon of Ellswether?”

“You are, my lord,” says I.

“And pray, sir,” says he, “an’t it true that Sir Harry hath in his family a young gentlewoman that is some kin to my late Lord Brandon, that was ’headed ten years since?”

“You are right, my lord; he hath,” said I, much marvelling who this might be that spake thus acquaintedly of Dorothy.

“And I trust, Mr Carlyon, that this Mrs Dolly or Mrs Molly, or whatever her name be, is a young damsel of good conditions, and shows herself dutiful towards her kind guardian?”

“I’m glad to be able to assure your lordship that Mrs Brandon gives every satisfaction to those set over her,” says I. “But give me leave, my lord, to ask who you may be that are so well acquainted with a young gentlewoman’s family that you don’t scruple to mention her name in a place of public resort? If you be one of Mrs Brandon’s kin, permit me to say that after so many years of neglect you choose a strange time and place for to show an interest in her welfare, and one that justifies me to inquire your designs.”

Thus far I, in grievous fear lest while I was away in the Indies my little cousin should be took away from my father at Ellswether, and delivered unto some of her noble kin for to bring up.

“Tut, tut, Sir Spitfire!” saith my lord, but not unkindly; “go tilt with windmills. As for my name, I don’t doubt Mr Spender will be pleased to tell it you when I am gone. But you need have no fear that I mean to claim little Mrs Brandon from Sir Harry. What should I do with a modest, well-brought-up young damsel? ’Twould be worse than Daniel in the den of lions. No, that an’t what I meant.”

“The lady among the rabble rout of Comus, perhaps, my lord,” I said, as he hesitated; and he gave a great laugh, and vowed that I was as much a Puritan as Mr Milton himself, and with that arose, and took up his sword and beaver to depart, saying that the king should require his attendance in an hour’s time.

“’Tis the usual way,” says Mr Hampden Spender, when his lordship was departed. “My Lord Brandon drinks, and I pay.”

“Pray, sir,” says I, “is that my Lord Brandon?” and went to the window and looked after him. This was the first and last time that I beheld that nobleman, my cousin Dorothy’s kinsman, who was slain not long thereafter in a duel, and the barony became extinct, the estates thereof passing to the Crown.

“Ay, sir, indeed is’t,” saith Mr Vane Spender. “Pray who else should be so kind and condescending, and recognise so abundantly the services that my brother hath the honour to render him? Why, my brother is his right hand in all he doth. At present he is his attorney in his case of----”

“Oh, hush, my dear brother!” quoth Mr Hampden Spender; “the word hath an ugly sound. Prythee, name it not in the ears of our dear young friend here. Sure, I’ll never have it said of us that we corrupted youth.”

“Sir,” said I, “I vow I don’t understand you. Do you wish to pick a quarrel again?”

“No, sir,” saith Mr Spender, standing up mighty grand, but somewhat fuddled with the wine he had drank. “We wish no quarrels with persons too nice to drink with us, and too proud for our company, nor no conversation with ’em neither.”

“Then, sir,” says I, “you’ll allow me to bid you good day, if you please,” and so left the place before they could stop me. But to this day I have never found myself able to determine whether these gentlemen, the Messieurs Spender, were in reality desirous to put a quarrel upon me, and having compelled me to fight first one and then t’other of ’em, thus to rid themselves of me, or whether ’twas but the natural heat of their temper that moved them to provoke me to a dispute--a heat that hath led to many grievous troubles between us since that time.

Now some days after this, my lord duke would carry me with him in his coach to White Hall, there to wait upon the king, that I might thank his majesty for his singular great kindness towards me. And on our arriving, his majesty being in his Cabinet Council, we walked up and down, and his grace did point out to me many ladies and gentlemen of whom I had often heard speak, yea, and presented me to such as had known my honoured parents in their youth, who treated me with great gentleness, and wished me a short service and a great fortune. And presently, the Council being up, his majesty come out, and my lord duke did present me to him, who graciously allowed me to kiss his hand. And thereafter was his majesty pleased to jest with me, saying that he had heard by a sure hand that I was as much of a Puritan as any rebel among ’em. And this to my much heat and grief, for I perceived that the report of my adventure in the tavern (small though it were), had gone ahead of me, so that I made bold to say to the king that no man but he should have said such words to me, for that my father had shed his blood for his majesty’s father, and that I asked nothing better than to have occasion given me to do the like for himself, and so took it hard to be likened to a rebel. Whereat his majesty laughed prodigiously, and was good enough to say to me that I was a proper fellow, and he had liever I were staying in England than going forth to the Indies, for the realm had need of more such. And speaking thus, and saying that he hoped I should ever keep strictly the fast-day of the blessed King Charles the Martyr, and draw sword in defence of the ladies when their names was lightly used, his majesty left us, and my lord duke advised me to be proud and thankful for his condescension. Which indeed I was, only feeling sorrowful that so kindly a king should have so scant respect shown him, for verily among his courtiers was none that accorded him any reverence, but all elbowing and cursing one another as well in his presence as without it. And from such disorder and looseness as I saw in the Court, good Lord deliver us!

Now despite the good counsel of his grace and of Dr Ruthven, that reproach did still rankle in me, that I should be called a Puritan, and in order to the showing it untrue, I must needs go to the play. And this notwithstanding that the aforesaid Dr Ruthven did much advise me to the contrary, saying that I might well prove my loyalty to Church and King in many other and more reputable ways, but finding me set upon the thing, he desisted at last, considering that my wilfulness should bring its own punishment. And this indeed it did, for going with one of his grace’s gentlemen to the playhouse, we saw presented a comedy newly translated out of the French; but so debased was the sentiment, so indecent and unseemly the action of the piece, so vile the painting and so immodest the clothes of the women that played in’t (sure this in itself is a new thing, and of revolting newness), that I was fain to leave the place before even the first act was gone through. But this my companion would by no means suffer, so that I turned my eyes from the stage to the company present, but found little comfort there. For indeed, to see the gentlemen laughing hugely at the wickedness and profaneness of the piece, and the ladies feigning to cover their faces with their fans, as though it were to hide their blushes (but truly there was but little need of this), when the action was beyond ordinary unseemly, and yet peeping through holes cut in these same fans, for to view the stage still, was monstrous shameful. And in fine, when the play was finished, and I had refused my companion’s proffer to carry me with him behind the scene and present me to the lady that played the chief part (whose name is, alas! too well known in this kingdom), I returned unto Belfort Place, well determined never again to go to the play. And this resolve, so made, I have kept.

And after this, the spring now coming on, Dr Ruthven and I made a part of several parties of pleasure that were given by divers gentlemen and gentlewomen of the doctor’s acquaintance, for to visit his majesty’s palaces at Greenwich and Hampton, the docks at Deptford, and other places. In all which I found myself well entertained, and did gain, I hope, some knowledge that hath served me well since; but the time was now drawing near when I must needs start for the Indies. I then receiving one day a command to present myself on board of the Hon. Company’s ship Boscobel, lying in the Thames, for to embark for the factory at Surat, did make haste to bid farewell to their graces the duke and duchess, thanking them humbly for their singular kindness, and likewise to that curious scholar and good friend to me, Dr Ruthven. Miles, also, I despatched back to Ellswether with the horses, and such letters and gifts for my father and Dorothy, as well as for Mrs Skipwith and the others of the family, as I had gat together, and then gathered up my trunks, and took boat to Graves-End. At the which place, as I had been advertised by the Committee, I found the ship, whose master (his name Captain Freeman) received me with much civility, desiring me to choose my cabin and my seat at table where I might desire. For (says he to me), there’s another young gentleman bound for Surat with us, but he an’t yet appeared, and ’tis _first come, first served_, aboard of the Boscobel. Not to appear to slight his goodness, I complied with this desire of his, and did choose my place next to my kind captain’s own, which pleased him mightily, and me no less, for he was a person of very curious discourse, and one that had gone through infinite wanderings and perils.

And of these he was nothing loath to tell me, while as we lay a-waiting in the river, for ’twas yet two full days before my fellow-traveller come on board, so that the master swore we should lose our convoy by this delay, and that he would tarry no longer--nay, not for the President of the Indies himself. In these two days I was much entertained in visiting all parts of the vessel, which was a fine new ship of the Company’s own, and in learning from my good friend Captain Freeman many of the duties of a supercargo. Moreover, this good man did several times carry me with him in the ship’s boat, for to wait upon divers merchants with whom he had to do, and did so divert me with histories of his travels, that I vow this delay was no sorrow for me, but rather a pleasure. But at last, when Captain Freeman had but just now said that he would up anchor with the morning tide, and wait no longer, my fellow-traveller arrived on board in a monstrous rage, and cursing very loudly the waterman that brought him off, and had lost (says he) one of his trunks. Methought I knew my gentleman’s voice at once, and when I went on deck to assure myself of the matter, sure enough ’twas my old acquaintance, Mr Vane Spender. Who, seeing me, greeted me with an oath, and desired me bid the master to have the waterman soundly cudgelled by the seamen, which on Captain Freeman refusing, he was excessive vexed. And coming to us into the cabin, when this affair was settled, he took umbrage again to find me in the highest seat next to the captain, declaring that he was second cousin to the Secretary of the Indies at Surat, and must needs sit highest. Which I, for peace’ sake, was willing to suffer, but Captain Freeman would not hear on’t, and I kept that chiefest place. And herein also you shall see that I went not about to provoke Mr Spender, but contrariwise, did all in my power to pleasure him.

So then the next day we left Graves-End, and in the Downs did fall in with the East India fleet, which was ten in number, whereof six ships, ours being one, carried letters of mart[11] for protection against enemies. In our company was no king’s ships, for these use to meet only the homeward-bound fleet at Sancta Helena, for the better protecting of their incomparable rich cargoes; but we did believe ourselves secure from any foe that was like to come against us. And in this confidence were we well justified so long as we sailed in company the one with the other, but when alone and separated, we were like to have fallen an easy prey, as you shall hear. But of the exact history of this matter I am not well informed, and for this reason. For while we were yet in the Channel, Mr Spender was seized with that grievous disease of seasickness, whereof none knows the misery that han’t felt it, and did lie groaning in his cot, a-cursing at me if I did so much as speak to him. Seeing which, I left him to himself, and did continue to enjoy the ingenious discourse of Captain Freeman, the which did much divert me. But when, leaving behind the Narrow Seas, we were entered that great bay which is called from the Spanish province of Vizcaya, or by our seamen, Biskay, the complexion of things changed, so that Mr Spender arose and played the jolly sailor, whereas I was obliged to yield myself to the dreadful malady. And this made it the more irksome to me, that Mr Spender must needs come continually and make a mock at me, casting in my teeth all manner of nasty jests such as the seamen use to provoke one another withal, and deriding me in my misery, who could not frame so much as to answer, much less to punish him, until our good captain found him one day at his tricks, and threatened him with divers pains and penalties, in case he should annoy me again. And thereafter was I left in peace, though I was like to wish to die, so long as the master told me the ship was flying along with a fair wind, and making a fine course.

Yet, had I but known it, I had ought to have been thankful for that rough progress of ours, but of this I never thought until it was stopped. For one day methought I heard a prodigious great noise on deck, running and trampling and setting of sails and the like, and much loud talk and swearing. And in a moment in come Mr Spender with a pale face, telling me that we had outrun our consorts in the night, and were now chased by a Sallee rover, so that we were all like to be taken and made slaves to the Moors. Now upon this, though it seem to you a thing incredible, yet truly the disease, the which had heretofore weighed me down, and made me to long for death, left me on a sudden, so that I leaped up and dressed myself, and seizing my sword, ran upon deck, Mr Spender following after with his pistols. And upon deck I found the seamen busied in making ready the two cannons that our ship carried, and Captain Freeman a-serving out cutlasses and fusees.[12] Then looking behind, I saw the rover that chased us, the which was a long vessel of a monstrous outlandish build, mighty low in the water, and moving with a most marvellous swiftness. And asking our captain whether we were like to escape, “Mr Carlyon,” says he, “we have left our course and are now running for Tangier. If we can come at it, maybe a king’s ship or two will put out to our aid and drive off the black devils; but if not, I see no help but we shall end our days in Barbary.”

Now this catching the ear of a young boy, that was on board for to serve Captain Freeman in his cabin, he falls a-blubbering because the master said we must all end our days in Barbary, and this being heard by the seamen, they were taken with a mighty trembling and despair, so as to leave handling the ropes and charging their pieces, and stand gazing upon the rover. So that Captain Freeman, Mr Spender, and I were fain to go among them with our drawn swords, and so force them to return to their duty, which when they did we quickly made way upon the rover. And upon this the pirates tried to knock away our masts with a shot, but they was too far removed from us, and did but lose ground in the trying, while as the Boscobel flew on towards the coast, which we could now clearly discern. And now our captain caused the ship’s cannons to be fired again and again, and that not so much with the intent to hit the enemy, for of this, indeed, there was but little hope, but that those in the harbour, hearing the noise, might perceive our plight, and make haste to come to our help.

Now, as we learned thereafter, it chanced, in the great goodness of God, that there was at this time lying in the port the Royal Charles and the Navarre, king’s ships, whose captains, hearing the noise of cannons and perceiving its cause, made haste to put to sea and come to our help. We then, beholding these two great ships sailing towards us, gave thanks to God for His mercy, and left firing at the rover, the which was, indeed, no longer needful, since he, perceiving our reinforcement of strength, did incontinent turn himself about and seek to escape. But for all his subtlety and swiftness, our two ships were better than he, and sailing in such a manner as to cut him off from the port that he aimed at (I would I might describe this action in seamanlike terms, but this lies not within my power), had the mastery over him, and succeeded to bring him in and all his crew as captives. Who, in due course, were set a-working in chains upon the ramparts of the town of Tangier, a singular and worthy instance of God’s confounding the designs of the wicked, in bestowing upon them that very doom they thought to have prepared for us. And this all have acknowledged, to whom I have told this history, though many of them were (I fear) careless persons, and little like at ordinary times to observe and admire the Providence of God.

But ’tis not alone on the account of this marvellous escape and deliverance of ours that I shall always be mindful of this town of Tangier, but for an evil chance that was like to have befell me there. For we casting anchor in the port for to await our consorts, that were all to take in water at this place, the master of the Boscobel did grant to his seamen leave to go on shore, which leave we passengers also enjoyed. And I going in a boat of the place with Mr Spender, he met upon the landing-stage a gentleman of his friends among the officers of his majesty’s troops there quartered, and tarried to drink with him. But I, desiring to see somewhat of the city, went on apace, and found it a mighty pretty town, standing on a fair bay, and surrounded by fortifications of a tolerable strength, and that seemed apt to resist a siege. But the streets of the place are extreme narrow and dirty, so that one can scarce pass through them, from the great multitude of camels, asses, and other beasts that dispute passage with him. And the people of the city are so lazy and ragged as I had never before beheld, and the crowds of beggars beyond belief.

Passing at last through all this nastiness, I came to the ramparts on the land side of the place, whence was a fair prospect of desert and remote hills, such as I then saw for the first time. And here I sat me down for to examine and admire that I saw, and did watch the soldiers at their exercises close under the city walls with much diversion, in especial the Moorish part of them, whose riding and sword-play was very pretty. Now, as I sat there, there come up Mr Spender, none the better for the wine that he had of a rascally fellow, half Spaniard and half Moor, that kept a tavern under pretence of an inn. And you must know that ’twas now the 29th day of May, Royal Oak Day as we call it, so long had I tarried in London before the ship sailed. In remembrance, then, of the most miraculous happy escape, as on that day, of his majesty King Charles the Second, I was arrayed in a brave habit, with my cousin Dorothy’s badge on the forefront thereof, for to testify to all men that loyalty whereof our house is proud. And Mr Spender, coming up, did assail me suddenly with many evil words, miscalling me a penniless knave and a beggarly Malignant and many other such ill names. Nay, moreover, he gathered up dirt and cast it at me, and did even spit upon my Royal Oak badge, insulting me and it the while with such revilings as I won’t write down. And I, who was, despite my good advice given to my little cousin, and my temperate behaviour in London, but a youth, and hot-headed at that, was so wrought upon with his reproaches as to draw my hanger and run upon him with intent to slay him. And though now I am covered with shame to have desired to take away a fellow-creature’s life on such a cause, yet then I was ready to have killed him on the spot. And he, drawing his sword also, was prepared to fight, and I make no doubt but there should have been blood shed between us, had not Captain Freeman on a sudden come up with another shipmaster of his acquaintance, and thrown himself upon us.

“How, lads! young gentlemen!” cries he, mighty angry, “swords out? What’s this? You would pink one another, for all the world like a couple of Portugals or two Italian bravos in a play? And for what? For a few bad words? Fight it out with your fists, like honest Englishmen. Here’s Captain Branter and I will see fair.”

’Twas well indeed that they was there, for as I put up my sword, Mr Spender, mad with passion and the wine he had drank, flew upon me with his drawn blade, and I had much ado to defend myself. But Captain Branter pulling him off, I was able to make ready, and we did set to in good earnest. But, thanks to my fights with young rebels at school, it was not long before I made him admit himself mastered, and caused him take back all his naughty words. And Captain Freeman then enjoining upon us to shake hands and have it over, the which was done but with a poor grace on either side, we returned to the ship, so ending this affair.