Chapter IV

OF MY SENDING TO GOA BY MY EMPLOYERS, AND OF THOSE THINGS THAT BEFELL ME THERE.

Now this is the manner in which these untoward matters befell, of the which I spake only on my last page. For I was called one day into the Council, which is the highest in the Indies, and found there his honour the President, together with Mr Accountant, that is next in place to him, the Warehouse-keeper, the Purser Marine, the Secretary, and divers of the senior merchants of the Factory, that have the honour to be members of the board. And I, much fearing that I was to be chidden for some failure in my duty, did answer to the summons with little joy, standing before their honours like some poor rascal of a poacher awaiting his sentence from the bench of justices, but my friend Mr Martin, being among the merchants present, did cheer me with a look, so as I was made happy again. Then saith Mr Accountant--

“Mr Carlyon, you have now been near five years in the Company’s service at this place, and we learn from Mr Martin, who is set over you, that you have a fair knowledge of the East Indian tongues, and have always deserved to be well spoken of, as a zealous and careful servant of the Committee.”

I bowed in answer to these compliments, and he continued--

“Do you know anything of the Portuguese, Mr Carlyon?”

“No, sir,” says I; “I han’t never had occasion to learn it.”

“It may be that that occasion is even now arriving,” says he. “The Company, learning that its interests have at divers times suffered grievous hurt through its servants not understanding the tongue of the Portugals, hath decided to have instructed therein certain of its writers, gentlemen well-learned in the Indian tongues. At present you are the only gentleman at this place of whom this is said, and the Committee are therefore pleased to direct that you shall proceed at their charges to the city of Goa, in the Portuguese Indies, there to study the Portuguese tongue. The time you spend there under the Committee’s direction will count as a part of your service as writer, and you will receive a genteel present from the Company when you have given proof of your diligence.”

“I thank your honours and the Committee, sir,” said I, “for this goodness, which I will do my best to deserve.”

“You will provide yourself, Mr Carlyon,” says Mr Accountant, “with clothes befitting a young gentleman of quality, and the Company will furnish you with letters of commendation to the most considerable persons in Goa. Mr Martin will be good enough to instruct you with respect to the carriage and manners it will be becoming to you to assume. You won’t of course deny your connection with the Factory here, but it need not be insisted upon in general company. And if”--here Mr Accountant leaned forward, and looked me very steadfastly in the face--“if you find that ’tis true, as is alleged, that the Portugals are contriving plots for the damaging the Company’s trade in the Eastern Seas, you will make known the same to us, by means as secret and as speedy as you can devise.”

“Sir,” said I, “I’ll do my best to be watchful for their honours’ interests.” For I perceived that the Council was no little touched by the rumours that had of late reached us concerning the designs of the Portugals, and that ’twas my business to discover these, that so they might best be thwarted. And after this Mr Secretary, that had spoke not at all hitherto, being grieved that he could not prevail with his honour the President to send Mr Spender to Goa beside me, gave me my further instructions, and so I was dismissed. And Mr Martin and I walking back to our chambers, he saith to me:--

“_This chanceth in an houre that hapneth not in seven yeares_, Ned, and sure ’tis a happy chance for you. With prudence and tolerable good luck, your fortune is now assured. I don’t doubt but you’ll soon be made agent in some small factory when you are returned from your studying, and so have occasion to use your Portuguese. But with your leave, lad, I will give you some counsel, lest you fall into trouble at Goa.”

“Sir,” says I, “I hope that I shall always gratefully receive and follow any counsels you may be good enough to give me.”

“Listen, then,” says he; “and first you must always be mindful not to infringe the punctilio[51] of the Portugals, for so fantastical and strange is’t as passeth belief. You must never look hard at a lady, as she sits in her balcony, or rides in her coach, if you don’t desire to be stabbed that night. And regarding the religion of Goa, you must needs be mighty circumspect. You have seen those poor idolaters, the Papists here, walking through the city with their processions, and kneeling down in the mire when the Host is a-passing? Here this happeneth but from time to time, but at Goa you see little else. And in all the Portugals’ towns ’tis the law and custom that every one meeting a procession of the Church shall uncover to’t, and also kneel, or at the least bow low, until it be passed by. Now some Englishmen, conceiving that saw to be true, _When at Rome, do as Rome does_, do make it their custom to uncover and kneel, as ’tis ordained, but to me, this compliance savours somewhat of cowardice, and won’t, as I believe, commend itself to you. Wherefore, if you’ll be guided by me, I would have you go into some shop near at hand, or turn down another street whensoever you see a procession coming, or hear the little bell rung that signifies the approach of the Host, if you don’t wish to be stabbed where you stand. And above all, my dear Ned, let me entreat you never to enter into any controversy with any person in Goa, be he Portugal or Indian, upon any question of religion. He will seek to lead you on until you have uttered something that is to his mind heretical, and then he’ll denounce you to the Inquisition. And once there, Ned, ’twere far better had you been stabbed in the street by some _bravo_ among the common people, for the few that are escaped thence are come forth crippled and helpless, and the many that han’t never escaped have died by the torture or the fire. _Happie is he that can beware by other men’s harmes._”

“I thank you, sir,” says I, “and will try to remember that which you have ofttimes told me--viz., _A close mouth catches no flys_.”

“Good lad!” says he, “and may I see you return safe in six months or thereabouts, as full of the Portuguese as a _banyan_ is full of deceits. But let me counsel you to take with you such weapons as you may chance to have, and to sleep with ’em under your pillow of nights; for Goa is the most shameless ill-governed town that ever called itself Christian.”

Much other good counsel did my esteemed friend give me during the short space of time that we yet spent together, for it took no long delay to prepare me for my journey. ’Twas thus that I found myself, in the early part of the year 1668-69, at the age of twenty-two years, equipped as a gentleman of good degree for to set out on my travels, having letters with me to several respectable gentlemen at Goa, a tolerable supply of money, and suitable weapons for my defence. Likewise I had with me my servant Loll Duss,[52] a most excellent good fellow, that had served me from my first arriving in Surat, and might put to shame many of our English lacqueys. ’Tis the custom in East India for persons of any consideration to carry about with them a great following of servants (though the cost of this is not so great as with us, these men being habited in white calicut, and eating only rice and a little fish); but I had no list to waste either the Company’s substance or my own upon such display as this. Nevertheless, so confident did I feel in my situation, and so sure that my fortune was now to be made, that I writ to my father and to Dorothy that they should not wonder though they heard no more touching me for a long time, for that I might be chief Vizier to the Great Mogul when next they heard speak of me. To Mr Martin’s care I intrusted the diary I had kept, and such things as I must leave behind me, he promising also to keep for my return any letters that might be brought for me by ship from England. This good friend bare me company down to the landing-place, and as his wont was, bade me farewell with a proverb--

“Ned, suffer me to advise you once more, _Speake faire, and thinke what you will_. Even if by chance your argument should convince a Papist, it won’t profit either of you, since you will find yourself in the Inquisition, and he must needs show an extraordinary great soundness and devotion to save his life, and bring the faggots for to burn you.”

Thus we bade one another farewell, and I departed on my journey in the Company’s _baloon_, which is a boat of sixteen oars, very pleasant and commodious for to travel by. On our way we tarried only at the factory of Bombaim, and arrived in good time at the mouth of the Goa river. This place is well defended, for there are here four forts and a block-house, and so arranged as that no ship may pass but under their guns. And going on up the river we passed the great _Agoada_,[53] which brings water to the city, and the strong fortress of Marmagoun. The champaign country on either side of the river is mighty pleasant of aspect, and situate in it is many fine garden-houses[54] of the Viceroy and the _hidolgoos_,[55] with stately churches and palaces. The river here is full of islands, which do much hinder the passage of vessels, and not far below the city it is crossed by a bridge of thirty-six arches, joined to a long causey.[56] The city itself is ten miles from the river-mouth,[57] and stands on seven hills, being defended by good walls and gates. The prospect in approaching the place is an extreme fine one to behold, and the buildings of the city as rich and fair as any I have ever seen. Methought, as I come near to this accursed place, whereof I can now scarce think without a shudder, that here was no ill town to tarry in for six months, not knowing that I should not leave it for three years, and should (I fear) gladly have seen it destroyed, like Sodom or Gomorrha, long before that time.

I had been recommended by my employers to a decent lodging, where such Englishmen as visited Goa on their occasions was wont to tarry, and here I took up my billet, together with my servant Loll Duss. The keeper of the lodging was a certain woman, widow to one of the Company’s captains now deceased, speaking English very well, though country-born, and no bigot, although one of those Papists of whom Mr Martin had warned me. She gave me a fair chamber, looking into a court well set with trees, and with a fountain running therein, and good entertainment also, so that I found myself well provided for. And I asking her to advise me of a good teacher, from whom I might learn the Portuguese, she named to me her own son, that had made one or two voyages in his father’s ship, and could speak English also. And I, that had feared I must needs have some Jesuit _padree_ to my teacher, whereby, as Mr Martin foresaw, I had been very like to be led into controversy, accepted of her offer with great contentment, and had the boy fetched, that I might see him. He, being a smart fellow enough, professed himself quite ready to serve me for a decent weekly wage, and I was thus well attended, having always with me my secretary (as he called himself), beside my servant Loll Duss.

And now, conceiving that I might well begin with the highest, I did send by the hand of Loll Duss that letter of commendation I had to Dom Lewis de Bustamante, a gentleman in very high place, and nephew to his highness the Viceroy. And this Dom Lewis lost little time before he came to visit me, and entreated me most courteously, and must needs carry me with him to make my compliments to his highness his uncle, for whom I had brought a genteel present--viz., several pots of extraordinary fine succades or sweetmeats, newly arrived from Europe. And the Viceroy I found to be a proper man, and most courteous of manner, and indeed, among all those I have known have I never seen none so kind and so greatly given to hospitality as were these Portugals. For his highness was graciously pleased to give me as a token of his favour a ring, with a very fair diamond set therein, worth some thousand _pagodoes_,[58] which he took from his own finger for to put it upon mine. How I lost this ring, you will hear in due time, but I have often desired to know whether it returned into his highness’s coffers or no. Dom Lewis, likewise, showed me great kindness, and had fain had me lie at his house, and was so urgent with me that I had much ado to refuse him; but pleading the importance of my occasions, and my occupation with the Portuguese tongue, they left me where I was.

Now after this time this was the manner of my life at Goa, and if it seem to you too light and idle, you must remember that I was but young, and that I conceived I was doing best my employers’ business in mingling much with the Portugals. For on rising in the morning, I went with my hostess’s son (that was called Peter) to take the air by the river, and perhaps to view some church or other great building, and thereafter I spent some time in the study of the Portuguese. But for some two or three hours about mid-day was every one wont to repose themselves indoors, for fear of the heat, and I was fain to do the like. Then in the afternoon would come Dom Lewis or some one of his friends for to carry me with him to some assembly or party of pleasure, and the evening passed agreeably enough, with music and dancing, and suchlike diversions.

Now you will wonder how in all this time I escaped the Inquisition, without (as some have falsely said) I conformed myself to their customs for fear. But the manner of my safety was this. I followed out the counsel given me by Mr Martin, and avoided all processions and church shows. I had much desired to have seen an High Mass in the great church of the Dominicans or Black Friars, the which is all gilded within, and in the sacristan[59] treasures of untold value, but I refrained, and forced myself only to visit it one morning with Peter. Likewise, I was very firm to refrain from argument, and indeed my companions, that were for the most part young gentlemen of good blood and breeding, did never attempt to force it upon me. And with regard to the punctilio of the Portugals, I saw much reason to marvel thereat, seeing that they will walk abroad in the streets bareheaded under _umbrelloes_, for to avoid the necessity of uncovering the one to the other; but I was so happy as never to infringe it. And of adventures among the ladies had I none, seeing that they are kept very recluse, and I had neither inclination nor opportunity to make close acquaintance with ’em. But it is necessary to state this, since it hath been alleged otherwise concerning me. Thus all went well, until one day Dom Lewis came earlier than usual to visit upon me, and carried me with him to his house, that was very fine and splendid, for to see his cousin newly arrived from the Moxambique.

And this cousin of his (that was also nephew to the Viceroy) I found a pretty boy enough, Dom Francis de Lessa by name. (Now this name, Francis, is very common in Goa, after their great saint, Franciscus Xeverius,[60] that lies buried in the fair church of _Bon Jesu_.) And this young gentleman, Dom Francis, had been bred up in one of their colleges by the Jesuits, or Paulistins,[61] as they call them here, from their monastery of St Paul’s; and with him was his governor,[62] that the Viceroy, with the advice of the _padrees_, had appointed over him. This was a Paulistin called Father Sebastian, a person of a most gentle and courteous aspect, and so well versed in all matters of polite learning that to talk with him was a pleasure. Yet, to my misfortune, there awoke in me, while in his company, as it were a certain fervour and heat of opposition, so that I did find myself perpetually at an issue with him, to my no small concern, be the matter of our discourse what it might. Now on this day it seemed good to us to walk through the city and show to Dom Francis what was worthy to be seen therein, and so the time passed pleasantly away. But in returning from Old Goa, a part of the town that is now decayed, but wherein many respectable persons do dwell agreeably enough, we stopped on a bridge for to look at the boats on the river, and I chanced to say that ’twas a pity the Portugals should waste so much time a-racing one another on the water in _baloons_ to the spoiling of their business.

Then says Father Sebastian in French--

“You English are a stirring and industrious nation, sir. Sure we can’t never hope to equal you in this.”

“It seems to me, sir,” says I, “with all respect to you, that in the present posture of affairs, your governors are much to blame in that they allow so many of your men to stay idle in monasteries, instead of arming ’em and setting ’em to drill or to work. Why, ’tis said you have more Europe men in the convents here than in all your garrisons, and King Seva Gi and his Morattys at your very gates.”

“But pray, sir,” saith he, very meekly, “could these persons be better employed than in beseeching God to favour the arms of their country, and His saints to keep the enemy at a distance?”

“Indeed, sir,” says I, “speaking with all deference to you, I must say that all these Black, White, or Gray Friars do the country no good, nor the Church no credit. Were his highness to order ’em all on to the walls for to be taught how to handle a fusee or a pike, ’twould provide for the place a handsome garrison, and rid the town of a lazy set of rascals.” I was about to continue, growing warm in the subject, the which had much exercised me since my coming to Goa, when Dom Lewis pressed my arm, and I followed his eyes to a certain island in the river, where was a great void place with high posts set up therein, and seats of stone at one side thereof. I had seen this place before, and Peter also had pointed me to it, but it seemed to me that I had never yet truly understood what was done there. ’Twas the burning-place of the Inquisition. I stopped suddenly in my speech, but Dom Lewis said somewhat touching the time of day, and we passed on.

Now as we come into the town, there was had betwixt us some discussion as to which way we should return to the Viceroy’s palace, and on the advice of Father Sebastian we made choice of a certain street that leads past the cathedral. And we walking and talking merrily, come presently to the square lying before this, which is as large as any in England, and of a neat and plain aspect. Now we being entered the square, I saw coming towards us the procession of some saint, I have forgot which, but they were carrying the Host under a state,[63] with _clericos_ walking bareheaded on either hand, and boys scattering incense and ringing bells. There was also one or two images or statuas, with banners and suchlike borne aloft, and many nuns and ladies of the city walking after. And as the procession come near, the people all made haste to kneel down in the dust, the men uncovering, until it should be passed. And I, according to my custom, did seek to turn aside, but we were in the open square, and there was no shop nor side-street at hand. Then there come to my mind that sight which Dom Lewis had but now showed to me--viz., the burning-place by the river, and I won’t conceal from you that for a moment my knees trembled and the devil tempted me very sorely to take off my hat and bow myself before those images and that Host which was carried there. But I thank God that I was kept from this base and cowardly conformity, and was strengthened to stand still while as the procession came near. Father Sebastian and Dom Francis went down on their knees mighty devoutly, and Dom Lewis bowed almost to the ground, saying to me--

“Bow, Dom Edward; ’tis the custom here.”

But I still stood up, and the procession passed by, the priests and women all looking black upon me that durst insult their idols. And when the people was rose up again from their knees, they come round about us, hustling us and crying out that we was atheists and heretics, and making ready for to stone us. But Dom Lewis crying out to them very earnestly that I was a stranger that knew not their ways in that place, and that they were all three good Christians, as might be seen, they were content to let us pass, though with many ill words. Thus we walked on to the palace, Father Sebastian going meekly with his eyes cast down and his hands folded, and Dom Lewis with a dark and gloomy air, while Dom Francis his cousin looked upon me askance, avoiding me as a man might one that had the plague. I, indeed, was far from being at ease with myself, and to add to my distemper, it seemed that even in the palace I could not be free from peril, for we reaching the building and standing on the great steps in the forefront thereof for to take the air, there come up an ancient man, an Indian, of a lean and shabby aspect, and he carried with him a little cabinet, so to speak, with curtains before it of some old torn stuff. And Father Sebastian asking what strange beast he had therein, the fellow replied by bringing the cabinet up to us upon the steps, and showing us inside on’t divers little images of the Virgin and the saints. And his design was that we should kiss these, and withal give him some small piece of money, as the custom is here. And Father Sebastian motioning him to approach me first, being the guest of Dom Lewis, I had in my hand half a ducket,[64] the which I purposed to give him, seeing the man to be old and poor, but I refused to kiss the images that he carried, whereat he departed much displeased, though the other gentlemen were willing to pleasure him.

And now, Dom Lewis seeming to be ill at ease, we went into the palace, and presently his highness entered to us, and the evening passed as usual. But shortly before the company departed, while as they was serving _jacolatt_,[65] Father Sebastian entered again into discourse with me, and desired to hear many things concerning England. He held many strange notions touching our country, such as I should conceive a Frenchman might entertain, but so universally learned are these Jesuits that I can’t so much as guess of what nation he was. And at last he advanced this proposition--viz., that the English are a people altogether destitute of all loyalty and reverence, and entirely given up to lawlessness and irreligion. And this saying I did combat with all my skill, bringing forward to the contrary thereof the loyalty wherewith the Cavaliers fought for his late majesty, and the reverence they testified toward the poor clergy in their extremity.

“But, sir,” saith Father Sebastian, “sure you’ll pardon me if I say aught displeasing to you in my ignorance, but I had believed that ’twas accounted in England a merit to show no reverence to such things as other men venerate. And this belief of mine was confirmed, sir, in me by your own behaviour to-day.”

“I hope, sir,” says I, “that I am always ready to show due respect wheresoever my conscience may allow on’t, but I can’t find it in me to bow down to a piece of bread.”

I saw Dom Francis turn pale and walk away, at a signal from his governor, and Dom Lewis called my notice to a rare piece of carving in ivory that had but just been sent to his highness from the king of Visiapour, and told me that it was worth at the least ten thousand duckets. And while admiring this, I noted a badge or medal in gold that he bore on his left arm, and whereof I had often desired to ask him, and I inquired concerning its device, and his reason for the wearing it. But it seemed to me that Father Sebastian looked at him for a moment, and in the stead of answering, he put my question aside, and spake of some other matter. Then the father turned again to me--

“I ask your pardon, sir, but I don’t follow your meaning as I could wish. May I beg of you to favour me at more length with the opinions held by the English (and by yourself as an Englishman), on this subject--viz., the respect paid to images of the holy saints?”

Now I would not have you think of me more highly than I deserve, and so I will confess to you that ’twas my fantasy at this time that I had a mighty pretty turn for argument, and could set out my meaning as neatly as any man. But on this especial evening I declare most solemnly that I had no list whatever to argue, but only to set forth and explain unto this civil and fair-spoken priest that which he desired to know. But ’twas not to be looked for that I, matched against such an extraordinary keen antagonist, could confine myself to a cold setting forth of facts, and I found quickly that I was becoming engaged in a smart controversy, Dom Lewis and divers gentlemen of his acquaintance standing by to listen, though uttering no comment on all that passed. The matter was ended at last by his highness giving the signal to retire, and Father Sebastian saying that we must surely resume our debate on the morrow, I bade him good night, and so departed. But Dom Lewis coming with me into the hall while I buckled on my sword, and two _peunes_[66] (which is Gentue boys or servants), sought out and brought to me my hat and cloak, I heard him mutter in his throat when he bade me farewell certain words. And of these the sense never reached me until I had returned to my lodging, and was ready to go to bed, though their sound seemed well known to me, but then I knew them to be, _Quem Deus vult perdere, prius dementat_.

But, as I said, I did not perceive at first the meaning of these words, and I went home after my usual fashion, with one of the Viceroy’s servants bearing a lantern before me, and found Loll Duss looking for me in no small alarm, since it was already late, and he had feared lest some ill was befallen me. For, as Mr Martin had warned me, in the streets of Goa is no safety for any whose occasions oblige them to be abroad after dark, for what with the _Coffrees_[67] or negroes, that are given no food by their masters, and the soldiers, whose pay is always withheld from ’em, so that both must needs brawl and rob for to keep themselves alive, the place is full of murders and assaults every night. Nay, so bold do these robbers become, that ’tis their custom even to break into houses, and strip the inhabitants of their moneys and other goods, and kill those that resist them, wherefore every prudent person is wont to sleep with pistols at his bed’s head and sword by his side. And after this manner had I laid myself down on this same night, with Loll Duss a-sleeping on the threshold of my chamber, and was fallen asleep in great contentment, expecting no harm nor fearing none, that peril from the unruly brawlers alone excepted.

But on a sudden I was awaked by an extraordinary great knocking at the gate without, and heard Peter run to ask who might be there. At the first I thought it to be a band of those thieving soldiers of whom I spake just now, but by the answer that was then returned to him I knew what it was that should befall me, for a voice cried--

“The Holy Inquisition. Open quickly!”

“Loll Duss,” says I to my servant, that had rushed into my chamber in affright, “these men are come for to take me.”

“Shall we resist ’em, master?” quoth he, snatching up my sword from its sheath, and making as though he would defend the door.

I looked around, the while I could hear Peter fumbling to unfasten the bolts of the gate. Perchance (says I), if we can drive them away for a moment we may escape. But at once I perceived that ’twas impossible. My chamber opened on the one side into the inner court, from which was no exit but over the roof, and on the other into a passage leading to the gate. There was no way of escape. But upon this a thought seized me.

“No, Loll Duss,” says I, “we can’t resist. They are come for to seek me, and must needs take me. But I dare be bound they han’t no warrant for to hale you along with me, though they will take you if they find you. Hide yourself, and save these papers of mine, and carry ’em with you to Surat, to Mr Martin.”

And thus speaking I snatched up from my writing-book the letter I had but just wrote to Mr Martin, and with it such notes as I had made touching the designs of the Portugals in the Eastern Seas, and thrust them into his hands. My pistols also I gave him, and such money as come to my hand, and bade him be gone. And he disappeared and was gone before I might so much as turn round, hiding himself in some hole so secure as that they never found him.

Now all these things happened in far less time than I must take for to tell you of ’em, and Loll Duss was safely departed when at length the gate was opened, and the officers come along the passage to my chamber. I met them at the door, and would have asked their business, as one hugely curious concerning their visit, but at the sight of him that led them my tongue refused his office, for he was my friend, Dom Lewis de Bustamante. And he summoning and claiming me as the prisoner of the Holy Inquisition, showed me a warrant, signed and sealed, and upon this the rest of the officers entered the chamber, and set seals on all that was therein. Now the seal that was upon the warrant bare the device of a dove carrying in her mouth a branch of olive, and these words in Latin, _Justitia et Misericordia_. Then I, looking upon the medal that Dom Lewis bare upon his sleeve, did see wrought therein this self-same figure and motto, the which stirred up in me a great heat and indignation, that a brave man should suffer his friends carelessly to endanger themselves in his presence, and never tell them that his honour demanded that he should denounce and seize ’em. As for the rest of the officers, they was as evil-looking a crew of rascals as I ever saw, all clad in great gowns of black stuff, with hoods for to shade their faces, but of their nature I saw little, for they said nothing, leaving it all to Dom Lewis, that was most assuredly their master.

And this nobleman asking of me whether I were ready to come with ’em, I requested leave to finish dressing of myself properly, which was granted, and likewise to pack and take with me my trunk, or at least some clothes in a bag, but this he refused, saying that the Holy Office should look to my goods, and I should have ’em again. Then having dressed myself, I went with them to the gate, where they had a coach in waiting, and put me into it, and themselves followed, my hostess weeping and crying in the door that no such shame had ever come upon her house before, and so departed.