Jem (and Sam)

by Ferdinand Mount

  You took too much wine with the little clerks, she said, that will teach you a lesson.

  Oh leave me, Nan, do, I am sick.

  Then I will minister to you, and she slipped under the sheets and began her business, but I was too weary and besides she ceased to please me.

  Ha I see the little clerk’s wife has had the best of you, which isn’t much, for a sot will never make a lover, she said, and rose up out of bed, flinging her night-gown about her in a fury.

  Tomorrow, she said, you will take Kit to the tennis court, for he is growing fat and he must be exercised.

  And she left me to my dreams which in truth were but one dream, that Elizabeth said Yes and that life became a golden holiday. We would lie together in a boat by Richmond Meadows, we would take our pleasure in an inn where no one knew us and we would walk together in some remote gardens and there sheltered by the tall hedges that were shaped like peacocks – but these fancies were interrupted by the cold wet dawn stealing in through the grimy casement, for I had forgot the curtain.

  I had forgot also Nan’s last instruction and all my thoughts were upon the burning headache that bored in upon my skull. But in came Kit, bearing his tennis racquet that Monsieur Delatuile had newly strung for him.

  Come on, Jem, up and away, for you are to be my Aunt Sally in the dedans.

  I crawled along in his wake, buttoning my loose white breeches and shirt, cursing the day I had been saddled with this Incubus.

  But my luck was in, for as we came along the gallery, a tall fair youth shouted through the net, Kit, I will play with you.

  Crofts, I will give you fifteen points a game.

  And lose every set six-love. No, I’ll give you fifteen points and a hand.

  No, we’ll play level.

  If you persist in calling me Crofts, I will call you by a worse name which you have heard before.

  Do you mean the same name which you are always called?

  Very well then, my lord, a truce.

  Very well, Your Grace. You may go, Jem, I shall play with the Duke of Monmouth.

  And with a wave of his hand, the little lordling dismissed me, preferring to play with the King’s bastard that was lately known as Crofts, after his governor Lord Crofts, but had now been larded with honours, for the King was fond of him and he was a handsome gay lad, two or three years older than Kit and already a head taller.

  I returned to my room, wet through from the rain, but as I was changing my shirt, a letter came to me.

  Dear Jem

  You should not write to me so. Tet because I am partly at fault, I must reply to you. As you know, I have not been well and my actions have not been such as I would they should be if I were well [she is all tangled up because her heart is fluttering]. Yet because I bear you a high regard, I do not wish that we should part as enemies [part? Who spoke of parting?]. Let us meet as friends and not the other thing, because it would grieve me not to see you again [she goes to and fro like a shuttlecock]. Therefore I will receive you at the time you spoke of. I shall not say aught of this to my husband, although our meeting shall be in all honesty, because he has a mistrusting jealousy and I would not do anything that would have him think ill of me and would shudder to be the cause of a breach of your ancient friendship, through an innocent cause. You must come in the morning for he will be at the office.

  Your true friend

  Elizabeth Pepys

  I was much moved by this letter, and became even more tender in my thoughts towards her, for I could see how strongly she was drawn to me and yet how she fought within herself to save her honour and to protect her husband from injury. What a noble and delicate nature she showed. I could not but compare her with Nan who thought only of jewels and money, and had no more use for me than a farmer has for an old ram that will serve for tupping but cannot be sold.

  What are you doing here? I told you to look after Kit.

  He would rather play with the Duke of Monmouth.

  I don’t wish him to play with Crofts. He is a wilful boy who will lead Christopher into mischief.

  I fancy your Christopher will prove a match for him.

  If so, it is because you have had charge of him. He was never like this in Dr Gumble’s day. He was such a sweet willing boy then, and oh lord what’s this?

  In came Kit, prompt upon his cue, with one eye all black and swollen like a beetroot and the other dropping tears.

  He hit me, in the eye, with a ball.

  Jeremiah, you will go and speak to Crofts instantly, and fetch a poultice from the apothecary. Oh that my brother were here, he was a magician with wounds of the eye.

  I went with an ill grace. To be a tutor was bad enough, to be a nursemaid was worse – and to such a mewling ill-humoured boy. I was glad that Elizabeth could not see me, for I had given her to understand that I was engaged upon high state business for Their Highnesses, not fetching poultices for boys who could not dodge tennis balls.

  I was passing Westminster Hall halfway to the apothecary’s when I was surprised to see Mr Pepys come out of the Hall, looking somewhat flustered, though not with drink. He seemed to be in a great haste and took the first coach, then went back into the Hall to bring out – oh – my beloved and Jane the maid. Elizabeth looked pale as she stood on the wet pavement. Mr Pepys led her into the carriage and they were gone. And I was seized with jealousy of him that he had her company by night – and used her so ill – while I must plead for an hour of her nine days hence.

  I by water to Westminster Hall and there did see Mrs Lane, and de la, elle and I to the cabaret at the cloche in the street du roy, and there, after some caresses, je l’ay foutée sous de la chaise deux times, and the last to my great pleasure; mais j’ai grand peur que je l’ay fait faire aussi elle même. Mais after I had done, elle commençait parler as before and I did perceive that je navais fait rien de danger à elle. Et avec ça, I came away; and though I did make grand promises à la contraire, nonobstant je ne la verrai pas long time. So by coach home and to my office, where Browne of the Minories brought me an instrument made of a spiral line, very pretty for all questions in Arithmetique almost. But it must be some use that must make me perfect it.

  So home to supper and to bed – with my mind un peu troublé par ce que j’ai fait today. But I hope it will be the dernière de toute ma vie.

  Diary of Samuel Pepys, 16 January 1664

  That week drifted by as slowly as twigs upon a sluggish stream. I cannot tell how I passed the days or differentiate one day from another. My life seemed a dreary desert in which there was but one fertile patch, one Oasis as it is called in the Libyan desert, where palm trees and pine trees blow and there is an abundant spring of water. Elizabeth was my Oasis and all my thoughts were travelling towards her, for it was one consequence of my love for her that my affections for Nan had entirely fled, or rather they had decamped and gone to that fertile place where my hopes were now gathered.

  And what of Pepys? Did I not scruple to cuckoldise my old acquaintance, for friend I could no longer call him? I will put the answer in the Italian tongue: cazzo dritto non vuolt consiglio, which being interpreted means: a standing prick will take no counsel.

  A thousand times that week, I cursed my cowardice that I had withdrawn from the attack and had not pushed it straightaway to a conclusion. Even now it was not too late to breach the defence. I could call upon her, all wet from the rain, and throw myself upon her mercy, saying that I could stay away from her no longer and that I must instantly have proof of her love, or I would die. Yet if she were not yet recovered from her illness, then my breath would be wasted, and if I came at any time other than at the appointed hour I might run into Mr Pepys.

  But as it turned out it was not I who was to run into Mr Pepys. It was but two days before our appointment, and Nan had gone down to Westminster Hall in the afternoon to inspect some linen. She liked to keep her hand in at that game, it being the prime source of her fortune at the King’s coming in. There was no royal palace or State din
ing-room that she had not furnished at handsome profits and so she would visit all the linen drapers to compare their goods and prices that she might not lose touch with the market.

  Who do you think I saw down at Westminster Hall? she said throwing off her bonnet.

  How should I know?

  Your little Mr Pepys.

  He is none of mine, and I don’t see why you should think it strange to see him there. It’s a place of great resort. I dare say I have seen him there myself.

  No, but wait. I was coming up to the linen stall that is kept by the Lane sisters in the Hall – they have good stuffs but dear because it is Westminster – and there was only the younger one, Doll, so I says to her, where is your sister today? Oh she says, Betty is away, but as she was rolling up a bolt of pretty cloth – a blue stuff the colour of cornflowers – I saw her sister through an opening in the curtain at the back. She was talking very low to a little man whom I instantly knew for Mr Pepys.

  He may talk to a linen draper, I suppose. And you might have been mistaken, if you only saw him through a chink in a curtain.

  No, no it was he. But why should Doll say Betty was away if she was only behind the stall and could have been called up to advise me, for she is the senior partner and Doll is an ignorant slut. So I kept watch, and after a minute I saw Mr Pepys walk off with what the French call nonchalance and ten paces behind as though she had nothing to do with him walked Betty Lane. If ever a couple were bound for an assignation, it was they.

  Well, I dare say you’re expert in assignations at a linen draper’s.

  So are you, Jem. Don’t be a spoil-sport. Does the tale not entice you a little?

  I would not admit it because I was so vexed with her, but her news did add fuel to the fire that was raging in my breast. If Pepys was taking his pleasure with female linen drapers in Westminster Hall, why should I not pursue my love that was so noble and sincere? He had forfeited the rights of a husband in consequence of his lewd conduct.

  And so Monday dawned, that fateful Monday when I was to put my love to the touch. I wore my blue coat with the brass buttons that had anchors engraved upon them, and a vest of mulberry colour that she had once admired.

  Where are you going? Nan said, as I passed her on the great stairs.

  Out, I said, on business.

  What business have you that is none of mine?

  Private business, a family matter. I shall be away some time.

  For some reason, I know not what, my tone alarmed her.

  Are you not well?

  I am well enough, madam, I said coldly. Good-day.

  And she could say no more, for a footman came up the stair at that moment, and I went out into the damp street.

  Up, being troubled to find my wife so ready to have me go out of doors; God forgive me for my jealousy, that I cannot forbear, though God knows that I have no reason not to do so or to expect being so true to me as I would have her.

  I abroad to Whitehall, where the Court all in mourning for the Duchess of Savoy . . . Thence home by coach to the Change, after having been at the Coffee-house, where I hear Turner is found guilty of felony and burglary; and strange stories of his confidence at the Bar, but yet great indiscretion in his arguing. All desirous of his being hanged.

  So home and found that my clerk Will had been with my wife there; but Lord, why should I think any evil of that, and yet I cannot forbear it. But upon enquiry, though I found no reason of doubtfulness, yet I could not bring my nature to any quiet or content in my wife all day and night.

  Diary of Samuel Pepys, 18 January 1664

  She was wearing a dress of dark grey silk, the colour of a slate roof that has been rained upon, not the white dress trimmed with green, nor yet my favour. A bad beginning.

  You are punctual, she said, but negligently as you might speak to a tradesman who comes upon his hour and has not kept you waiting.

  I would have come at dawn if you had called for me then.

  Jem, I beg you, it’s too early in the day for such speeches.

  It’s never too early for me to pay tribute to your beauty, Eliza.

  Jem, don’t talk so, and please don’t call me Eliza. We had a cat of that name and I didn’t like to be confounded with it.

  I’m sure it was a pretty cat.

  No it was not, it was a mangy old thing – and she smiled at the thought of it, and I saw that I must tread more like a cat if I was to come nearer my goal.

  Elizabeth then, I am sorry I was so forward. I was a little agitated, to see you again after so long . . .

  Eight days –

  Nine –

  Nine days is not so long a time. If we are to bear misfortune as we should, we must learn to possess our desires in patience. My father –

  I did not wish to hear about her father. Nor had I come here to be sermonised. But I knew I must be meek.

  Please forgive me, I do acknowledge my fault.

  You must not presume upon – upon what happened at our last meeting. I fear we had all taken too much wine.

  It was a very merry dinner certainly, I said.

  We wished to cheer poor Will. He must miss his wife exceedingly, she was such a beauty and of such a generous nature too.

  She was. I admired her much.

  As much as you admire me perhaps. I fear you are a ladies’ man, Jem. You cannot see a woman without paying court to her.

  You do me wrong. I admired Mrs Symons only as a friend and I was sorry for Will.

  Upon my life, I do not know what I should do if my husband were taken from me. I would throw myself into the river, I think.

  Don’t fret, he looks healthy enough.

  You don’t know him privately, Jem. He presents a glowing front to the world, for one who will prosper in business must look the part. But he suffers, lord how he suffers. He had fevers very frequently, and the colic and such gripings, and he was cut for the stone seven years ago and every year he gives a dinner to celebrate his recovery, I wonder that you were not invited – but he fears lest the trouble may come back, I know he does. And then his eyes –

  But I did not wish to hear about Pepys’s eyes.

  Madam, he looks well enough.

  You think so?

  I am sure of it. But he works too hard for his own good.

  That’s very true, she said.

  And for your good also, I fancy. You are much alone here.

  No, I have abundant company. There are the girls, and my mother and father come here often, and Mrs Pierce.

  I meant company of your own age and sort.

  Oh well, there’s Will, he’s here very often.

  Will Symons?

  No, Will Hewer, my husband’s clerk at the Navy Office. He is such a bright spark. He makes me laugh.

  This was bad news. A man who can make a woman laugh and is the same age, or younger (for if this Will were Pepys’s clerk, he must be at the bottom of the ladder – indeed, it was wormwood and gall to learn that Pepys had a clerk already), such a man is halfway to winning her.

  Have you room for another caller?

  How do you mean?

  Would it be agreeable if I came for a hand of picquet or a little conversation now and then?

  Oh you may come if you please.

  But does it please you?

  If you are sensible, you may come.

  Elizabeth, I am exceedingly sensible to your – you bade me not speak of your beauty – but to your presence. When I am with you, I am half-fainting with sensibility.

  You know quite well I did not mean sensible in that sense. I meant discreet.

  I can only say what I feel.

  People say that when they had very much better say nothing.

  Please don’t preach at me. I can’t help it, I don’t mean to offend you, I would do anything in the world not to harm you, or distress you.

  Well then, she said more softly, let us be calm.

  And she took my hand. This voluntary action was the first encouragement I had received
and I seized upon it as a loaf of manna in the desert and pressed her hand with mine and then, gently and with reverence, placed my lips upon that same hand, as though I were kissing a Bible and not the flesh of a woman.

  She let the kiss rest there and stayed motionless for a minute in a kind of reverie. I heard her murmur something but so low that it seemed she was talking to herself.

  I too stayed motionless, and silent too, apprehending that the absence of speech and motion might deepen our communion.

  I counted to thirty (sotto voce of course) and then planted a kiss no less reverently upon her left cheek just below the little mole (which may be seen upon the sculpture of her that is now in St Olave’s Church).

  Oh, she said, very quietly, as though she were speaking to herself, now here’s a thing.

  Then I counted to twenty and put my lips to hers.

  And thus we stayed in the silent room. It was cold, so that I felt her warmth more powerfully, and her breathing and my heart beating were all the sound there was but for the ticking of Mr Pepys’s clock that he told me was given him by a Norway merchant.

  Then we fell to kissing furiously and I tipped her velvet and felt myself to be at the gates of Heaven. But the gates had to be opened and, while a slow pace had been the best way to reach them, now I instantly summoned my forces for a direct assault before the moment was lost.

  All of a sudden she broke away and hit my head with a huge swing of her fist so that my ear was bruised and then hit my wayward hand with the other fist which must have had rings upon it for I saw later that I was bleeding. Then almost in the same motion she was upon her feet shaking her skirts down to remove all trace of my invasion.

  Go now, go, for ever, I shall never see you again. You know nothing of a woman. How could you have thought . . .

  Please, I cannot go like this. At least permit me to offer my repentance.

  Men like you never repent. You are like foxes, you will come back again and again until you have caught your poor silly chicken. I shall tell my husband, that is the only way to get rid of you. But perhaps – she paused and wiped the tears from her flushed cheeks, but she was weeping still – perhaps you would wish me to tell him, because you take pleasure from inflicting pain on humble honest men. He’s worth ten of you, I am a vile creature to have let my thoughts stray from him for an instant.