Zealand

37. Of Love Lost

Monday, 25th February 1666

Captain and I spent much of Monday morning stowing his wondrous items from the shelves and walls into large, iron-bound chests. I recalled doing the same six months earlier when we had prepared to flee from the fire, but this time there was no urgency – the waggon and carriage were not due until noon.

I had earlier wondered about all the bags of gold in the hide, then when Captain rolled up and bound the Ardabil carpet, seeing the trappe-door reminded me. "What will you do with the guineas, sir?"

"I will take a thousand aboard, that we can re-victual, replenish stores and repair if necessary. It is wise to always have sufficient to handle contingencies."

"And the remainder of it?"

"I will also leave it with Sir Robert, [1] but not to store like the chests. He will count them each at twenty-four shillings, and for every pound received, he has agreed to pay a farthing per week interest."[2]

"Interest, sir?"

"The amount paid for the use of loaned money."

"Why would he pay for that?"

"Because he gains by lending it to others, charging them a higher interest."

"Oh!" I pondered this while I took the first bag as Captain passed it up from the hide. Then I asked, "How do you know to trust him?"

"He is the goldsmith and banker to the King, knighted and appointed an Alderman and the Sheriff of London. But beyond that, over the years, he has handled to full satisfaction the remainder of my money, as had his uncle, Sir Thomas before him."

Remainder? He has more than this? "So, your wealth grows all the while."

"Aye, Boy. Remember, holding money for itself is a senseless exercise. Its wise use brings not only gain but also satisfaction."

"Aha! I now see the meaning of what you said when you sold Bessy yesterday – the money from her will grow."

"Indeed. And by the time I have wearied of the sea, common sense will have caused changes to the Rebuilding Act. By then, I will see what others have done and what I might do to the greatest advantage."

"Wearied of the sea? Had you not done that when you moved ashore to Billingsgate?"

"I had not, Boy. I had sold the ship to woo and wed a woman."

"Why did you not bring her aboard?"

Captain shook his head. "Remember what I had said about the tradition?"

"That a ship is cursed with women among the crew."

"Aye, and most sailors believe this. Besides, it is improper for an unwed lady of high standing to be in such a compromising situation."

"Then, why did you not wed?"

"Her father refused her hand until I had given up the sea and established myself ashore in a mansion worthy of her." He shrugged. "I sold Gelderland, and plans for the mansion were well in hand until the Rebuilding Act foiled everything."

"And where is she now?"

"With her father's condescending manner, I slowly realised hope was lost. He frequently cautioned me that she has many suitors of noble birth. He is an Earl, and he found no favour in his daughter's choice of a commoner."

"Full of himself, like you had said about Mister Stourton."

"Aye, Boy. Honouring birthright above merit."

"And above his daughter's choice."

"Indeed, and that is the saddest part. It pained me to see her suffer under his inflexible attitudes. As the realisation of my mansion approached, he increasingly refused my calling upon her."

Captain paused to lift the last bag of gold from the hide, then he continued, "While the shock of the Rebuilding Act swept through me, I saw my folly. Even if I had the mansion, the Earl would have refused. Love had blinded me to the reality of his deceit."

"As an Earl, does he sit in the House of Lords?"

"He does."

"Might he have influenced the forty-foot rule to ruin your plans?"

Captain slapped both hands to the floor as he mounted the steps. "Of course! Why had I not thought of that?" He slapped the floor again. "Finally, an explanation for the stupidity of it."

"Do you still wish to wed?"

"I do, Boy. But it appears I will need to find another. She has long since ceased replying to my letters."

"Might the Earl have caused them to be intercepted?"

"Aye, I had begun to think this."

"Where does one meet a woman who wishes to wed?"

Captain laughed. "Not at sea, Boy." Then he sighed and shrugged. "And that is the dilemma."

"But ashore, sir? Where had you met the Earl's daughter?"

"By circumstance, by chance. Attending a play at Theatre Royal, my eyes were drawn to a beautiful woman, and I watched her, rather than the play, relishing her enjoyment of it."

"And she saw you watching."

"Not that I had noticed, Boy. But during an intermission between acts, while we stood to stretch our legs, I saw a miscreant cut her purse and pass it to another."

"Miscreant, sir?"

"A rogue, a scoundrel. I bounded from my stance, snatched the one fleeing, then with my other hand, I grabbed the cutter and thwacked their heads together, leaving them lying senseless in the aisle for the guards."

"And she thanked you with her company."

"Later, but first, she cringed in fear of my violence when I approached to return her purse. It was not until her lady's maids had explained that she relaxed and offered her hand in thanks."

"Her hand as to wed?"

"Captain chuckled. "Nay, her hand for me to take to my lips. She invited me to sit with her, and we spent the remainder of the play whispering into each other's ears. She admitted to having earlier stolen many glances at me."

He sighed, then pointed toward the chests. "But to here and now, Boy. We must finish packing, that we not keep the waggon and carriage waiting."

Notes:
[1] Sir Robert Vyner, Baronet. He later served as Lord Mayor of London.
[2] This would be a little above 5.4% interest per annum. Pepys wrote that in these difficult times, the Lord Treasurer had paid up to 8% for loans to the Crown.