Tales of Sam and Bess, 1660-1700
Tales suggesting famed 17th century diarist/naval adminstrator Samuel Pepys and his lady had more going on than even his famed daily diary let us know...
Note: The best way to know Mr. Pepys is through his magnificent nine year daily Diary...Which is now available on-line on a day-to-day basis at pepysdiary courtesy of the wonderful Phil Gyford.
I would also recommend "The Unequaled Self", a new biography by Claire Tomlin...Just terrific and fills in the gaps the diary leaves...
….
"The Night He Came Home…Halloween, 1667…"
"Bad days, Captain Hill, bad days…But we shall endure."
"I hope so Mr. Pepys. Well…" pause…
"Anything else, Captain? Mr. Yeasbly is coming shortly, to settle my Tangier accounts…"
Ah, nothing like celebrating the Eve of All Souls Day with "settling"…i.e., getting my quarterly rakeoff…My Tangier accounts.
"Sir…Is your girl out? The one with the brother, your boy…The one you sent off to sea?"
anxious expression…
"Jane Birch? Why yes. Out with Mrs. Pepys." Stern glance…
Hope Hill hear doesn't think he may take advantage of any young and lovely women working in my employ…
Cut to shot of Sam groaning after Jane's elbowing him once again for attempted feel…
Wait…The boy…Ah…
"Oh…Did you have news of young Wayneman at Barbadoes?"
"I…I'm afraid so, sir."
Hmmn…Sam nods. "A pity, a sad pity. But, there was little could be
done for the poor boy…Headstrong and headed in a bad way, you know."
"Yes sir…But…Mr. Pepys…"
"Captain?"
"While I was in Barbadoes, after the Coventry was lost…I heard
stories, sir."
"I should hope so…Anything interesting, Hill?" Sam leans back in
chair.
"About young Birch, sir… Sir, the boy they say died a most horrible
death in the fields."
"Tragic…And?…"
"Well, sir. There was talk that he had consorted with some of the
locals."
"About what I'd've expected of the boy." frown.
"Some of the locals who dealt with the Arts, sir."
"Arts, Captain?"
"Sam'l?" Bess from outside the study. "We're back. Are you playing music?
It's bothering the girls."
Music?…Sam stares…
Come to think of it…I do hear… What is that?
Rather repetitive, I must say…
"Not us. We're busy, Bess…Give us a moment."
"That's the music…" Hill blinks… "All the way back from Barbadoes, we
heard that music in the air."
Hmmn…Must be from Penn's. Just like him to try and top my musicians.
But he'll never manage it with that repetitive tune drumming over and
over…
Though it does get a bit on the nerves…
"You were saying, Captain…I must be off soon, a riverboat staying for
me."
"The Black Arts, Mr. Pepys. And they said he was consulting them about
means…Of taking vengeance. On those who sent him to that Hell on
Earth."
"I should be surprised he'd blame others for his lack of character.
Though it's nice to hear he displayed some modicum of initative…
Anyway, since you say the lad is deceased, I shall choose to overlook
it. We'll say nothing to dear Jane."
"Sir…The stories say…He knew he would die and planned to come back…And
take vengeance."
Note for Hewer…Do not plan on offering Captain Hill new employment at
sea.
"My men swore they saw a strange figure lurking in parts of the ship
we took back to England. That he was responsible for killing six of my
men with his bare hands."
"Shocking…Obviously stowaways…And escaping Barbadoes…Not really
surprising Captain. I will bring it up at the next Board meeting.
Security should be tightened at the ports."
"Sir…This figure wasn't human…They shot at him…Nothing…The murdered
men were strong men and stabbed and slashed at him…Nothing…"
"Strange he should wish to 'lurk' for weeks, then, eh? Why not kill
you all and be done with it, eh?"
"He wanted to reach England, the men figured…Sir…I didn't believe
myself…Until we were nearly home…And that night I had the men search
the ship from stem to stern, me with them. And I saw him…Shot at him
at point-blank range…Saw him break the back of one of my strongest men
as like breaking a chicken bone…Saw him leap from the bow."
"Into the sea, miles from shore? Problem solved, I should think."
"Sir."
"Thank you for the warning, Hill."
***
Later…
Mr. Yeasbly departed, Bess and the maid and cook asleep…Sam in study, counting his gains…Literally…
Lightning outside…Revealing a figure in courtyard, watching the house…A gaunt figure
in rags…Bearing sugar cane cutting machete…
The same music in the air…
….
"So, gave thanks to God for this 100 pounds I did receive at Yeasbly's…" hmmn? Sam looks up from where he's been writing.
Ah, nothing…The wind…
…And that rather annoying tune on the air…Shakes head.
Must consult Mr. Hooke about it. Some natural phenomena, very curious…Wind in the boards or…
Lighting flash…His candle suddenly blown out by gust…
Hmmn… He frowns, looking round…
"Jane?! Candle out! Jane?!" he calls for the sleeping maid… "I need a light, Jane!"
Lighting flash…He startles at sight of the same gaunt figure…And the machete, raised.
"Sir?! Who the devil…?" he begins, on recovering a bit…
"The Devil indeed, Samuel Pepys!" wild howl…Pepys ducking as machete swings violently…
"Have a care, sir! That paper is worth 10 shillings!" he cries as seeing the cut sheets of blank Diary paper on his table.
"Die, Pepys! Die!" swings again…Pepys falling and rolling, holding tome up to take the blow…
"Sir!" grim stare. "That tome cost me five shillings! Who the Devil are you?! And what do you want with me!?"
"Nothing with you, except your foul head! And I…Am…"
"Mr. Pepys…It's a bit late to be callin' for lights and such, sir…" Jane's weary voice at the door, she opening, holding candle, revealing herself in linen shift, bit of leg showing…
"Wayneman!" she gasped.
"Wayneman?" Pepys stared.
"Jane…" Wayneman groaned. "I'd not wanted you to see me…Like this…Just let me kill this bastard and I'll be on my…"
"Now see here, boy!" Pepys fumed. "I was a model employer…"
"Wayneman, you can't kill Mr. Pepys. You'd hang…Then be drawn and quartered, your entrails cut out and burned before your eyes. Tis not pleasant even if Major General Harrison bore up most well." Jane notes.
"Indeed. A brave man." Pepys nods. "My wife says…"
"Screw your wife!" Wayneman howls.
"Oh…Really." Sam, immediately suspicious. "So, you made advances on Mrs. Pepys…? While in my employ? Explain yourself, boy!"
"Certainly not. I was a mere boy. That's disgusting." Wayneman frowns. "Jane, you know I would have never…"
"Of course, sweetheart…" Jane nods. "Now lets have that sharp thing…"
"NO! He must die!" Wayneman raises machete… "Author of all my woes…!"
"Now see here!" Sam, indignant.
The thanks I get for secure him a new life, a second chance…In the soul-destroying cane fields of permanent exile….
Is nice the lad has learnt a neat turn of phrase though… "author of all my woes…" Like that.
"Wayneman! Stop that! Now!" Jane insists.
"Jane? He's a monster…What he did to you…" Wayneman fumes.
"What did I…?" "What?" Sam and Jane in near echo…
"Wayneman? You think I would ever let this goose bother me?" Jane, shaking head.
"Jane…" Sam, annoyed.
"Well, you are a fine man and employer at times, sir. But a silly goose when the temper hits you." Jane notes.
"Well, I'm the master…Everyone says, from Lord Sandwich and the King on down…" Sam begins.
"Kick them all in the arse too, if they should ever try with me." Jane,firmly.
"That be me Jane." Wayneman beams as best his gaunt face can… Eyes Jane, then Pepys…
"Never?" he asks her.
"Not a bloody chance in Hell…" Jane, proudly.
"Indeed, a most virtuous girl, your dear sister…" Sam, catching the mood.
Ah, must try to retain all this for the next entry…
"Well, good. But he still sent me to Hell!" Wayneman cries.
"Are conditions truly so awful there?" Sam, genuinely curious…
"Hell, as I've repeatly said, sir." Wayneman frowns.
"You've improved your speech, boy…Glad to see you've not entirely wasted your time there." Sam nods.
"He's always been a bright lad, Wayneman, sir." Jane, eagerly. "You've but pushed him too hard."
"Perhaps…Now about conditions on the island, boy." Sam begins.
"I've endured terrible suffering in my escape and an arduous sea voyage to come to kill you, sir." Wayneman frowns. "That should put it in a nutshell."
"Very good point, boy." Sam nods, pleased. "I like that you've learned to be succinct. But now, as to specifics…For the King's service, you understand…"
"Go on, Wayneman…Answer Mr. P's questions." Jane urges
"Well..It's quite brutal and man-killing…And quite inefficient, sir. The methods. They don't even keep proper records as you do, sir. Not even at the Navy offices." Wayneman notes.
"Really? No proper records despite my orders? Shocking…" Sam frowns. "Well, this must be dealt with. Jane, see the boy is bathed and fed…Get him to bed and find him some proper clothes tomorrow. We'll discuss the situation on the island in detail tomorrow in my office, boy. For now, focus on any specific details you can remember about operations. From start to finish, lad. You know my old lessons…"
"I did rather make use of them in my escape, sir." Wayneman notes. "And of course I used a few of the ghost tales you'd told us to frighten the locals into thinking I be from the Dead. And me recorder lessons didst come in handily." He holds up recorder.
"I knew you'd learn it if you just kept at it, Wayneman." Jane beams.
"Yes." Sam sighs. "Speaking of the Dead, boy…Captain Hill did mention six seamen…Dead at your hands? Bit worrisome…"
"No, sir." Wayneman, somewhat indignant. "I'd not lain a hand on them. They were looking to jump ship, sir. Join a privateer passing the island. One of their friends told the Captain of the vessel I'd escaped on that I'd killed them."
"Indeed…" Sam nods.
Definitely keep Hill from further sea duty. The man jumps to conclusions far too readily without seeking facts.
"Come, Wayneman…" Jane, gently tugging. "I'll get you washed up and something to eat. Goodnight, sir."
"Goodnight, Jane. Boy, up and early. We'll have a good spot of work to do tomorrow. I think we'll put you in as a junior clerk under Mr. Hayter. I see a future if you apply yourself."
"Thank you, sir." Wayneman nodding.
I really must send more of my clerks to field duty, truly. Sam contentedly notes to self.
"Sam'l! Come to bed, ma chere, tis late!" call.
"Coming, Bess! Ah, yes… 'And so to bed'…" writes on Diary page.