The First Book of Samuel by SAREJESS (unputdownable books .TXT) đź“–
- Author: SAREJESS
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As they spoke, a fiddler made his fiddle sing a lively tune. People at the tables and in the alcoves were tapping out the rhythm on the floor. Some one was smoking a stinking clay pipe. Smoking had become a practice which most now partook of. It was said that the drivers of the death carts of the plague in the previous year had smoked clay pipes continuously. Even grandmother smoked to keep the plague away. Mr. Pepys had his own opinion about the use of pipes to scare the plague away. Quite frankly he did not believe it worked, although the Duke of Albermare, old general Monk who had spent the entire plague in the cockpit, smoking day and night and nothing but an irritating cough plagued him. At a table nearby, some young bloods were drinking and jesting much to the disgust of the other occupants of the inn. Samuel watched them with a weary eye knowing that behind the bar counter was a pike and a cudgel which could be quickly retrieved in the event of a fight.
The smell of beer and smoke filled the main room of the inn Samuel knew that tonight he was going to have trouble. Mr. Pepys, his good friend was in a bad mood. The young bloods were smoking and laughing making outrageous jokes at the expense of one of their number. Samuel wondered when their unwanted attention would be turned on to one of his other guests. Samuel would wait for that moment before he intervened. He knew that if he interfered before that moment he could very well find himself on the wrong end of the short stick. Samuel had seen hundreds of fights in inns in his years on earth so much so that he could sense the fight a long time before it started. The young bloods finished their ale and rose to leave. One of them tossed a few coins on the table in payment for their drinks.
Samuel breathed a sigh of relief, “at least there would be no fight tonight” he began to relax; it was a while before the stench of the untreated tobacco left the inn. In the meantime the aroma of a roasting hog began to permeate from the kitchen, this mixed in with the smell of coffee which occasionally filtered through from the coffee room when the door was opened. It reminded Samuel that he would need to check on the coffee room soon. The servant who worked in the room as a supervisor had been stealing from Samuel. It was nothing that Samuel could put his finger on just a feeling, but Samuel knew from experience that once he got that suspicion he was usually right. He sighed “and things were going so well.” Mr. Pepys was looking in his direction. Samuel smiled and walked towards Mr. Pepys “What can I get you Mr. Pepys?” asked Samuel. “Ah yes friend Sam, please bring me a glass of your best French brandy for Sir William” said Mr. Pepys, indicating the large man sitting across the table from him. Sir William Penn of the Navy was known to Samuel. Samuel did not like Sir William he was rumored to be self seeking and dangerous passing on much of the actual work on to Mr. Pepys to do. However Mr. Pepys knew that if he were to make any advancement he would have to remain on friendly terms with Sir William.
Earlier in the week Mr. Pepys had come to the inn to ask a favor of Samuel. He was planning a dinner and had need of some silver and pewter dishes for the occasion. Mr. Pepys was very fond of “occasions” as his young wife Elizabeth called them; she too had on occasion visited the inn with her husband.
“Now that was a beauty” thought Samuel as he heated the glasses and then poured the brandy for his guests. Elizabeth Pepys was petite but with a lively mind. Samuel had heard Mr. Pepys bemoan the fact that she had no sense of economy in the home and did not treat his peri wig with the necessary respect. Mr. Pepys on the other hand was always taking the greatest care of his clothing even going so far on occasion as to pluck at real or imagined threads. Samuel had no problem lending the dishes to Mr. Pepys if Mr. Pepys could guarantee their safe return on completion of the evening’s affair.
London town was all a flutter. James, Duke of Monmouth had been involved in a duel with a young blood by the name of Ashby. Ashby had lost his life and his father, Colonel Ashby had sworn vengeance. It mattered not a farthing that James Duke of Monmouth was an illegitimate son of the merry monarch.
The two young men had met in a street in the strand. James, Duke of Monmouth had taken advantage of a lady of whom James Ashby was quite fond. An argument had quickly developed over some trifle and very soon swords had been drawn and young James Ashby lay dead in the street, in front of a theater. Knowing the colonels pertinacity for violence James, Duke of Monmouth had lost himself on one of his country estates. “Better to lose a season in London then to lose one’s life over a lady” reasoned the young Duke.
Dueling had been forbidden unless under strict rules of engagement by a proclamation of Charles II but a short time before the penalties for illegal dueling were quite stringent thus to escape the wrath of the authorities the young duke had left the city in haste. Soon after Charles, King of England hearing of the matter flew into an almighty rage. Walking back and forth across the blue room at Windsor he stormed at his brother James Duke of York and the other gathered members of the Privy Council.
“Damned these young bloods he shouted spitting foam from his mouth” the merry monarch was not very pleasant on this day his ruff and shirt showing evidence of a rather large breakfast of Goose liver and pheasant. “How dare he sirs? How dare he?” he shouted at the gathered men who were trembling in their boots. Seldom had they seen the king in such a rage. James, Duke of York was a man who loved his brother, he tried to say something. “But Your Grace.” “Enough, enough” shouted Charles waving his hand dismissively. For a moment James and the other men were not sure they were being dismissed. “My lord of Clarendon” said Charles “you will draw up an order which protects the young fool from punishment legal and personal” said Charles.
“It concerns me that colonel Ashby who has been a faithful servant to the crown would swear vengeance but no matter, he was most probably put out at losing an heir. Well it cannot be helped. My Lord of Clarendon you will send to colonel Ashby a missive informing him to come forth in to my presence. I have in mind to make him Sir Ashby. Mayhap this will sooth his ruffled feathers” said the merry monarch.
“Yes Sire” said the father-in-law of James, Duke of York as he crossed the room to a writing desk. “Now James,” said the king “when are you going to provide us with a nephew?” “Indeed Sire I am hard at work on the task” replied the blushing Duke. Lord Clarendon hearing this jest at the expense of his son in law chuckled...
In the inn Samuel was cleaning tables after a rather good night’s work. The sun shone through the windows, the sounds of the street carried in to the building. At this time of the morning the sound of a coach going past attracted his attention for a moment. The coach stopped. The sound of a door opening was followed by the sound of voices in the street bidding the coach to wait. Samuel recognized the voice of his friend Mr. Samuel Pepys. He wondered what could bring the little man to the inn so early in the day..
“Shall we step inside?” asked the duke of York. “Indeed we shall” said his brother the King. They stood in the street outside the Brass bell Inn. Hurriedly Samuel Pepys pushed open the door and called “Sam, Sam come attend your guests” Samuel Ferreira hurried forward noticing the excited look on his friend’s face. Samuel immediately became alert. Stepping through his door was Charles, King of England by the grace of God! His majesty had grown thirsty while returning from Windsor, and requiring a drink Samuel Pepys had suggested the inn of his friend Samuel Ferreira, late of the Low counties.
Bowing at the waist Samuel welcomed the King to his little establishment. Hurriedly and with much courtesy, Samuel showed the king and his brother to the best table in the inn.
“I will be but a moment Sire” said Samuel hurrying off to the cellar to retrieve the best chilled wine which he had. Returning, Samuel found that the Duchess of York had joined her husband and brother in law and they were talking on the subject of the races at new market, which would be run later in the day. Mr. Pepys had in the meanwhile picked up the fiddle which some one had left laying on one of the tables. Softly at first but growing as he played he began to play a well known country air. The conversation continued King Charles hearing the tune began tapping his foot on the floor in time to the melody. When he finished playing, the merry monarch said to Samuel Pepys “Well played sir. Pray would you play the duke of Norfolk's round?” “Indeed I know it” said Pepys as he began once more to play, James, Duke of York in the mean time had been in conversation with his wife who seemed a little put out; being pregnant she had earlier begged to be excused from attending the races. The request had been denied by the King. Now as she grew more and more uneasy in her condition she once more asked the king to excuse her. Seeing that she really was indisposed, Charles granted her permission to return home. James Duke of York made for the door to call for the carriage which came quickly. Depositing his lady in the carriage the Duchess set out for their home. James in the mean time returned to the table at which the king was
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