The First Book of Samuel - SAREJESS (chrysanthemum read aloud TXT) 📗

much had changed but London seemed not to have changed. The stench of rotting garbage drifted across the river to where the ship lay anchored. Taking a hanky from his coat pocket he held it to his nose. “One should always take care not to sniff the morning air too deeply. There is still a chance of plague” said the captain noting Samuel’s discomfort. It was not that London was anymore dirty than any other large European city at that time, it was just that all the filth usually found its way to the river. Some attempt had been made in European cities to clean up the streets, but in London the streets were still filled with the results of night soil being dropped from the high gables of the house to the streets bellow. The sun almost never reached the street because of the way the city had grown higher and higher.

To this city, the capital of England, Samuel had now come to find a small inn to run to turn a pretty profit. Unable to escape the eternal curse under which he lived, he had for some time slipped into doing what he had done for so many centuries and that been seeing to the comforts of his fellow human beings. He had been living in France for about fifty years and it was time to move on. The choice of London had been made in the light of the possibility that many people had died of the plague and as a result property was bought and sold cheaply.

As Samuel was been rowed towards the shore shortly after seven in the morning he chanced to see a short stocky man engaged in a heated conversation with another waterman at the dock to which the boat in which he was traveling was making. As the boat got closer Samuel could hear the raised voices. "I must ask you again to take me across to the man of war this instant! I am not interested in what the captain said, I am Pepys of the navy board and I have urgent business on board that vessel. The captain of that vessel does not command me I command him now take me across this moment!” said the little man.

“I will not. Captain Blood will skin me alive if I should bring you out. He has threatened to turn his guns on any one who brings out any one from the Navy office I am most sorry Master Pepys but it is not worth my while to do this.” said the waterman.

“What shall I do” asked Pepys to no one in particular. Samuel in the mean time had reached the dock and was hoisting his chest to his shoulder. As he turned he looked full into the face of the little man with a big opinion of himself. “I will pay double the fee” said the little man to the gathered watermen. The man who had just brought Samuel ashore said “I will do it sir if you can guarantee that if Captain Blood blows my skip out of the water the navy will replace it.” “Done” said Master Pepys hurriedly climbing into the boat. Samuel stood for a while watching as the boat made its way towards the Man of War waiting to see if indeed the captain would fire upon the small boat. The gathered watermen spoke and joked about the fact that if the waterman and Pepys survived the broadside from the ship, Mr. Pepys would be so indebted to the waterman that he would have to give him a yacht. The boat reached the ship and soon the figure master Pepys was seen climbing through the entry port of the ship. Samuel turned and headed to the city, up fish market street with its fish mongers stalls getting ready to sell the catch of last night.

It had been about a month since a great fire had torn through the heart of the city of London. During the great fire of September 1666 the population had rallied round their King the merry monarch Charles II. He was to be seen everywhere with the Duke of York, so also was Master Samuel Pepys. Of the Lord Mayor there had been various stories told, not very complimentary; his dilly-dallying had cost many their homes. Many were penniless, having lost all their worldly goods. St Paul’s had burned brightly, the flames reaching two hundred feet. When the great ancient roof collapsed a mighty flame had shot up into the sky which was seen for miles. The issuing navy stores to the homeless and destitute who gathered at Smithfield after the fire with the meager possessions that they had managed to save was done by Mr. Pepys of the navy helped by sailors from Woollitch.

For the foreign-born residents and visitors, London had become a very unsafe place. After the fire rumors of papist plots were abroad, even the Spanish ambassador’s house had been attacked by mobs with bat bricks. Samuel had taken to hiding his foreign origin by going to live for a time at Lincoln inn a district just out side of the boundaries of greater London; however one could not help but hear of incidents, where mobs attacked and in some cases even killed foreigners who it was believed had started the fire.

One of the earliest rumors began during the course of the fire when a Portuguese man had stooped to pick up a piece of bread and had then placed it on a windowsill. According to the Portuguese it was a very bad thing to pass by a piece of bread lying in the road and not pick it up and place it in a better place. The mob of angry superstitious residents of the city had attacked him and they were in the process of fetching a rope to hang him, when the King and the Duke of York happened upon the scene. If it had not been for the royal intervention the poor man might have lost his life.

Thus Samuel left the city and went into the country for a while till tempers had cooled and some reason had been restored to the troubled city. However a month after the fire, Samuel had reason to go up to London to do some business. He was in need of the aid of a lawyer in the purchase of a small inn in a section of the city that had not been burned. This was to prove very difficult as the temple court where the lawyers met had been burned in the fire. The lawyers were now scattered round the city operating from whatever place could be found. The Brass Bell was an old inn that had been build about two hundred and fifty years earlier during the War of the Roses. Samuel had first seen the inn back in the year 1536 when he had visited the city of London. Back then the inn had been run by one William Smallman now a little more then a hundred and thirty years. He found that the inn was still run by a descendent of William Smallman, one James Smallman. At the end of a long and tiring day Samuel had retired to the inn to sleep and eat and to take a flagon of Ale. Nursing the flagon, sitting in a small alcove, Samuel was lamenting that he had been unable to make much headway in finding a lawyer who would draw up the legal documents in regard to the purchase of the inn. James Smallman joined him at the table. “Well what progress friend Samuel?” asked the Londoner “I fear none, master Smallman the lawyers have gone to ground. But I have hopes of ferreting out one on the morrow” continued Samuel. “Mayhap one of my regulars might be able to find a lawyer” said James nodding his head in the direction of a short man in a frock coat who had just entered the inn. Molly, his daughter had gone to take the man’s order as he seated himself.

“I believe I have seen the man before” said Samuel. “Of a certainty thou hast” said James “every one knows Mr. Pepys of the Navy board but tarry a while for I will have speech with him about our matter” continued James as he rose from the table. He made his way over to the table at which Samuel Pepys sat and engaged him in an animated discussion gesturing and laughing as a friendly innkeeper does with a familiar guest.

Samuel in the meantime sat and pondered what had drawn him to this inn so long ago in the first place. He had liked it at that time. The street in which the inn had stood had not been crowded; it was a sunny place in summer and back in 1536, there had been an orange tree growing not far from the front door. Now a century and a bit later the inn was part of a buildup area in greater London. Now the orange tree was long gone. At that time Samuel had first seen the inn, he had been very impressed with it. He offered to buy the inn but William Smallman would not even hear of it. "Where would I go? My family has owned this inn for time out of memory" the old man had said shaking his head. Now a century later James Smallman was tired of the inn he and his wife had lost many relatives in the late plague even some of there children had died of the plague this had broken their hearts. Now all they wanted to do was move away from the place that had brought them so much sorrow.
Samuel was joined at the table in the alcove by James Smallman and Samuel Pepys. “Master Ferreira please meet one of my regulars, Mr. Samuel Pepys of the navy board” “I Give you good evening” said Samuel to the man as he sat down. “Give you good day said Mr. Pepys I believe that you have need of a notary public?” said Sam Pepys. “You seem to have the problem by the head” said Samuel. “Mayhap I can be of service to you” said Pepys “for a small consideration of course. I believe that friend Smallman wants to dispose of the inn and go into the country. I shall miss him and the good wife Molly said Pepys in his country accent. Ah no matter” said Pepys.

“Yes I will be buying the inn and running it as a profit venture” said Samuel “but as to the business at hand you say you might be able to help with a public notary? May one inquire as to where one will be able to find such a person? I have been searching the whole of the day with out much fortune of finding one yet you seem to have one at your fingertips?”

“Why sir I am the very man. I read law at Oxford and am able to draw up any document or writ that you might need” said Samuel Pepys, rubbing his hands as if had just delivered a great surprise to his companions and it must be said that it was indeed a surprise to Samuel Ferreira who suddenly realized that he had previously seen Pepys in an argument with Thames waterman. “Yes indeed this little man was full of surprises” Samuel noted that he would have to keep a sharp weather eye on this man of many talents.

The conversation continued and fell to the business of drawing up the deed of sale for the inn known as “The Brass Bell” to Master Samuel Ferreira formally owned by James Smallman. Once the matter of