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...
…..
Surrmary: Sam and Bess take a ride on the dark side...
No doubt… The coachman assured them… It was just a short hop over and
would only take a moment…
"That's what they do." notes Bess.
***
"Sam'l?"
"Sam'l?"
"Samuelllll!"
What a lovely girl…Hmmn… "Bess?"
"Where are we going?"
"Just over to the driver's place, he wants to change horses."
"It's taking a long time? Are you sure the man knows where he's
going?"
"He said in St. Giles…This is rather far. Say, driver?!"
Deb looking graver than ever…
"Just a bit more, sir…Over that way." pointing.
"It's getting dark, Sam'l. And where are we? I don't like the looks of
this place."
Right…Well, I'll just go and drive the damned coach myself. Sigh…
"Just a minute, Bess. Driver? Are we almost there?"
"Just a bit more sir, nearly there now."
"I think he's up to something, Sam'l. You should give him a talking-
to."
"Right, talking-to…"
Jostle…Oh!…
"Oh, this is taking so long…It's dark now, Sam'l."
"Yes, yes… Driver?! Either get us there or turn back!"
"Almost there, sir. Just a bit more."
"He's up to something, Sam'l. Jane says some of them take you into the
ruins or some dark place and they have their gang waiting there and…"
garroting motion.
Hmmn…
"Driver!"
"Almost there, sir, yes sir…"
Oh…Grrr…
"We're going to be rob and murdered…I know it. Papa always said one
shouldn't display one's valuables or let any one know you have
anything. And everyone in town knows how well you're doing, Sam'l. All
the musicians and the parties…"
"Bess, please…You're frightening Willett."
"I'm frightened, Sam'l." icy edge. Narrow look at grave Deb.
Hmmn…
Uh-oh…Sam eyes the look of She Who Must Be Placated…
Before She Suspects Anything…
Not that there is, as yet, anything to suspect…
"Now, now, Bess… Driver!"
"Just a moment, sir, turning in the way now. Bit more and we're there,
sir."
Ohhh…Bess groans.
Coach stops…At last.
"There we are, sir. Just a min while I open her up, then inside,
change the girls, and we're off."
Driver climbs down.
"Hello, lovely lady…" voice from outside tapping at Bess' coach door.
"Out for a night on the town are we? Not the best place for it."
Leering hiss…Chuckle. Clawlike hand suddenly resting on open coach
window.
"SAM!"
"Here, now, Lemeul...Be off wid' ye!" driver's voice at carriage
side. "Don't be minding Lemeul, miss. Bit cracked in the head, but
no harm in him."
"I want to see the lovely lady..." Lemeul's voice, plaintively. "Show
her the sights, I will."
"Get...Me...Out...Of...Here..." Bess, grim hiss to Sam now at her
side.
Deb sitting, hands gravely folded. Nervous eye dart to open window.
"Lets be getting in, then..." driver resumes his seat. "Have you out
in a minute, mum."
Carriage moves in the dank fog into a small stable. Gate bar lifting
at angle without visible support but loud creak.
"There we are...Safe and sound..."
Sound of gate bar crashing down...
"Oh!" Bess jumps. Deb, head bowed...Slight tremble.
What a delightfully grave girl...Sam sighs.
"Sam'l...Samuel!..."
Hmmn?...
"Help me out." grimly.
"Of course, dear."
Driver appears out of fog...
Hmmn...He is bigger than I'd thought seeing him in seated position,
Sam notes.
Much bigger.
"Come on in sir and ladies and have a seat whilst I change the girls.
Just a mo and we'll be right off."
"In? Where?" Bess peers into fog as Sam helps Willett out. Putting
hand out for Sam to...
"Ah, the lovely lady..." Lemeul's voice as the hunchbacked little man
rather daintily takes Bess' hand...
She staring, eyes bulging nearly so much as her dear husband's...
"Lemeul!" the driver grabs him, pulling him back... "Leave off and
take the girls inside...The horses, Lemeul." frown as Lemeul hopefully
reaches for Bess' paralyzed hand again.
"All right. We'll see the lovely lady later." Lemeul nods...Eyeing
Bess head to toe...
"No harm in him, mum...Bit touched in the head. Me sister's boy, you
know."
"Bess?" Sam pats her shoulder.
"The little fellow meant no harm...I think..." he tries, reassuringly.
Bess, blinking... "I want to go home..." little gril whisper...
Deb nodding, rather vigorously for the first time since Sam's met her.
"Right this way, sir. Ladies. Just in and have a sit and we'll be
right along."
"Come on, Bessie..." Sam tugs. "There's nothing to worry about."
She eyes him.
"Do you want to stay here in the coach? With Willett?"
Deb, slight gasp, looking round.
"No...In..." Bess chokes out...
"All right, then...Now,driver, lets not be too long...The ladies would
like to get home."
Home... Home to my little closet and my warm bed...Far from here...And
Lemeul...Oh, yes...Bess sighs.
But, recovering, notices Sam taking Deb's hand.
Het. Hum.,
"Just wanted to see Willett safely in..."
Narrow look...
"...after you, Bess..." takes her grimly offered hand.
And off we...Ugh...Go...Sam pulls shoe out of manure heap...
"Mind how you go, sir. The girls are a bit busy about the place."
"Right...Thanks..."
High-pitched scream as shrieking old woman thrusts herself at them at
the entrance to the house attached to the stable...
Sam'l...Please...Bess frowns...
"The wages of sin is Death! Death!" the old woman howls, wailing.
"Mother, stop that. Now be good for the gentry here..." the driver
frowns.
"Mother a bit touched as well?" Sam asks, politely. Eyeing the woman
waving what is clearly a tattered Bible in her gnarled hands.
"Ever since the Plague, sir. Yes, sir. Lost quite a few of the kids
we did, mother and I..." the driver notes.
Oh...? Sam peers at the woman...Hair matted and gray but in the bit
of light from the house, clearly not so old as she'd seemed at first.
"Sorry..." he notes to the driver who makes polite bow and shrug...
"Life, sir."
"I'm sorry." Bess, rather kindly now. The woman eyeing her.
"All six...Gone..." the woman sighs. "Wages of sin..."
"I'm sure they're with God in Heaven..." Bess patting her arm
gently...
"Aye, mum..." nod back. Oh...? Eyes the nervous Deb...
"Your little girl?...Hello, precious."
"No, my companion...Say hello, Deb."
"Hallo...Ma'am..." Deb, softly...
Like the tinkling of some divine virginal...Sam thinks...
"Take the ladies and gentleman in now, Mother..." the driver,
kindly... "Don't want em to get cold out here..."
"Or worse..." Mother notes, grimly..
"Come in, then..."
In...There?...Bess stares at door...A loose collection of sticks tied
together...
Almost the exact image of the murderers' den Jane had
described...Smelling about like what she'd described as well...
Or of the thieves' hideaway in her latest French novel..."Raoul,
Gentleman of the Black Road...Though in that case, not quite the scent
of rich spices described in the novel...
"...before it's too late..." Mother, carefully arch look...With glance
at Sam...And Deb beside him...
Uh-huh...
Poor sweet thing...She eyes Bess...
***
Having politely declined an offer of some leftovers from the family
supper...Ugh...Sam eyes dishes and bones...Sam seeks to find an
engaging topic of conversation to enliven the rather gloomy
proceedings...
As always one ready at hand...
"You know...Back in 58..." he begins...Addreessing their hostess, who
seems a bit less befuddled when occupied in making others
comfortable... Offering Deb a shawl, declined gravely, then Bess,
accepted gratefully...
Oh, Lord...Bess groans...
Tell me he didn't bring the box along...
Whoa!...She jumps as something moves on the ground...Under what
appeared to be a pile of old rags...
"Who's that, Mum?" a voice from the moving pile.
"Angel...Strangers in the house...Come here and say hello, me
lovey..." Mother beckons as two more figures emerge from the pile...
"Angelina...Balthazar...Say hello to the nice people..."
Hello, you imps of Hell, you...Sam eyes the ragged, dirty children...
"Balthazar?...I have a brother Balthazar..." Bess, beaming...
"So...These are yours?"
"Me last few..." Mother sighed...
Yes...Pity God didn't finish the job while he was about it...Sam
notes...
"Perhaps we should be waiting outside...Your husband must be nearly
done, now."
God willing...
"Pretty girl..." Angelina eyes Deb... Moving her way...
Deb gravely backing away from the surprisingly tall, skinny, dirty
heap of rags approaching...
"Oh, what a sweet girl..." Bess calls to her... "Angelina's your
name?..."
"Aye..." turn to focus on Bess..Ohhh...
"Here's a queen, Angel..." she notes.
"No, just the wife of the Clerk of the Acts of the Royal Navy..."
Bess, arch grin at Sam...
Howl from outside... "The Royal Navy!..."
"That be ole Dickum..." Angel nods, solemnly... "He won't like you..."
"Oh?..." Sam, a bit put out from being forced to end early his
narrative of his epic struggle against Death...
"He was a sailor till he got his head blown off..."
"Head?..." Bess stares...Angelina now burying herself in the fine
lady's arms...Dickum!...
Oh, Lord...Bess...Sam frowns at Bess comforting the dirty heap of a
girl...It'll take a week to get that filth out of your dress...Not to
mention the lice...
"Head..." Angel nods..."He's dead..."
"I should hope so..." Sam notes...
end of Part one...
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