CHAPTER III.

OF THE PLAGUE AND OTHER MATTERS.

I was well content both with my lodging at Master Rushworth's, though

I thought, doubtless for want of grace, he was too puritanically

inclined, and with the school. Our good parson had grounded me so well

in the rudiments of Latin that I took at the first a place beyond my

years; and I used such diligence and ability, if I may say so much of

myself, that I lost not this advantage afterwards. Twice in the year

there was held an examination of the scholars, or, as they call it,

probation; and they that acquit themselves well therein are nominated

to a higher place. This promotion I never failed to gain, save the

first time only, when I had been but three months in the school, and

this in a form which had none other so young as I. I do believe,

indeed, that even then I had earned promotion; but the usher kept me

back of set purpose, thinking this to be the best for me, for which

kindness, though it angered me at the time, I have since been most

grateful. In the end it served me well, for, not to be tedious by

dwelling over long on such matters, I had obtained at the first

probation of 1636, of which year I shall shortly have more to say, a

most excellent place in the school, being promoted into the fourth

form, in which there was not, I remember, one scholar but had, at the

least, six months more of age than myself.

But now there came a most grievous interruption, not to me only, which

had been but a small matter, but to the prosperity of the whole

nation. In the third year of my schooling (that is to say 1635) the

plague broke out with no small violence in the City. And though it

abated somewhat in the winter, as it commonly does, the cold seeming

to discourage it, so that 'twas hoped it would depart altogether, yet

in the year following, so soon as the spring-time began, it grew to

such a height as had never before been known, so far as the memory of

living man could reach. But there had been worse before, the Black

Death, to wit, which left, 'twas said, scarce a tenth part of the

people alive, and the Sweating sickness in the days of King Henry

VIII. From this visitation the school suffered greatly. I do not say

that many scholars actually perished of the sickness, for of these

there were not, I take it, more than three or four at the most. But

our numbers were sadly minished; for none came from the country,

parents fearing to send their children into the midst of so deadly an

infection, and of the London scholars also many were kept at home,

lest, mixing with their fellows, they should either take the disease

or convey it upon their clothes. It was a dismal sight to see the

classes grow smaller, I may say, day after day. And when any boy was

seen to be absent, there were rumours that he was dead of the plague;

and though these, as I have said, were, for the most part, not true,

yet we that remained were not the less troubled. At the last, when our

numbers had dwindled down to a third or thereabouts of the full, came

down an order from the Court that the school be shut. And this was

done on the seventeenth of May, 1636.

I remember that we heard this news with a great shout of joy; for boys

would rejoice in holiday though it should be brought about by the

ending of the world; and now there was prospect of such a holiday as

never had been known; and indeed the scholars were not again assembled

together for the space of a year and five months, though Mr. Edwards,

the chief master, taught some boys during that whole time, lest the

school altogether ceasing to be, its property should be diverted

elsewhere. But I was too young to be one of these.

As for myself, there was no small questioning what had better be done

with me. My father indeed, as soon as there was talk of the school

being shut up, had sent word that I should come home to him. But this

was not easy to be done. For there was great fear throughout the

country lest travellers from London should bring the infection of the

disease with them, so that the roads were diligently watched, and all

that were suspected of hailing thence were forthwith sent back,

sometimes not without much maltreatment. This being so the river was

the only highway that was left open. On this travellers were not

hindered, provided only that they did not go forth from their boat

into the villages round about. And by this highway I did in the end

return home.

On the eleventh of June, for I remember that it was election day at

the school, though the customary festivities were intermitted by

reason of the plague, comes Richard Beasley with his barge, having

with him a load of timber, and what I counted of more worth by far,

the commandment from my father that I should return with him. And this

I did about a sennight after, when he had finished the unloading of

his cargo. We were six days on our journey, and I think that I never

had so delightful a time. First it was no small joy to be quit for a

time of London, which was indeed in those days a most dreadful place.

None were seen in the streets save such as had urgent business; and

these walked at such speed as if death were after them, (as indeed in

a sense it was,) holding a handkerchief or pomander with some scent,

recommended by the faculty, to their noses, as a safeguard against

infection. As for the gallants in their brave attire and the fair

matrons and damsels that had been wont to throng the public ways, they

were invisible, and the church bells never gave forth a merry peal,

but were tolling continually, till indeed this was forbidden as

augmenting the terror of the citizens. And there passed continually

along the streets the funerals of the wealthier sort of people and

their families. But as for the poorer, the dead-cart carried them to

their burying places, and this I, lying awake at night, have often

heard rumbling awfully along, and also the cry of the men asking,

whenever they saw a house shut up, whether there was anything for

them. And I must confess, though it be to my discredit, that Master

Rushworth and his wife wearied me with over long exercises of prayer

such as they thought fitted for the occasion, not remembering my

tender years. It may easily be concluded therefore that I was

sufficiently glad to depart from London. And for the journey itself,

it was, as I have said, delightful beyond all compare. We set out on

the nineteenth of June, being, as I remember, a Saturday, for Robert,

though he had all things ready, would not begin his journey on a

Friday, a scrupulousness at which I was not a little offended, being

above all things desirous to depart. That night we lay at Richmond,

and the day following also, being a Sunday, on which day William

Beasley was steadfast not to travel. He would say that, if a man cared

not for his own soul, knowing it not to be worth a groat, he should

have regard to his beast, which must be priced at twenty shillings at

the least.

We travelled without any mischance save that at Bray, where the river

is more than ordinary shallow, William Beasley's son having had the

rudder in charge, ran the barge on a shoal, and would have had a great

whipping from his father but that I took the blame on myself; which

was indeed but fair, for I was distracting the lad with my talk when

he needed all his wits for his work. At some of the ferries we had to

serve ourselves, for the ferrymen would not venture themselves near to

those that might be bringing, as they thought, the infection of the

disease from London. And when we would buy anything from the town and

villages, as eggs and milk, or the like, we left the money at an

appointed place (the custom having grown up in former visitations),

dropping it into a bowl of water; and the country folk afterwards

brought their goods. And then, with a "God save you!" given and

returned, we went on our way. 'Twas a doleful thing to be so shunned,

as if we had been lepers; yet I could not blame the people, knowing

that the plague had been carried down from London to the utter

destruction of many villages. For a village, if it once take the

infection, will often, for lack of ministration to the sick, suffer

worse than the town. But once only did the riverside people show us

any hostility; and this was at Wallingford, where they stoned us from

the bridge, but without doing any considerable hurt.

But notwithstanding these incommodities, 'twas a most delightsome time

such as I have ever remembered with pleasure, and shall remember so

long as life be left to me. I have seen evil days since then--Thames

running red with civil blood, if I may so speak, and all this fair

land of England disturbed with the strife of brothers fighting against

brothers. But these days had not then come; and if there were signs

and tokens of the storms that were gathering, and such doubtless there

were for them that had discerning eyes. I was too young to take note

of them. And I was newly come from a city where there was but little

talk of aught but pestilence and death, and doleful sights and sounds

about me on every side, so that the country scenes, full of gladness

and life, into which I had, as it were, escaped, were the more

exceedingly delightful. Nor is there, methinks, a fairer thing in

England, when one is once past the environs of the city, than Thames,

nor any season in which Thames is more to be admired than that early

summer in which we were then journeying. For the trees are in their

fullest leaf and not yet withered at all by the heat, and the river

banks are bright with flowers, as the forget-me-nots and the flags,

both yellow and purple, and the water-plants, of more kinds than I can

name, gay with blossom; also one may see the water-hens and the

grebes, leading about their newly hatched broods, and the swans,

carrying on their backs their cygnets, whose brown plumes show forth

tenderly from out the silvery white, and the halcyons with their

comely colours of green and red, carrying food to their young. All

these and many more things that I have not the wit duly to describe

did I see and note, young though I was, during our voyage.

Also as we went along William Beasley would cast a bait--a moth, may

be, or a slug, or sometimes, to my no small wonder, a morsel of

cheese--under the boughs that hung over the water, and draw out thence

mighty big chevenders, or, as some call them, chubs. This he did with

a most dexterous hand; ay, and having caught them, he would cook them

no less skilfully, so that this fish, which I have since found to be

tasteless, made as dainty meat as could be desired; or was it that the

flavour was not in the dish but in its surroundings? And when we had

accomplished our journey for the day, he would prepare an angle for

me, and teach me to catch roaches and perches. And once, I remember,

when I was pulling to me a roach that was on the hook, a pike of some

six or seven pounds laid hold upon him, and would not let go, so bold

and ravenous was he. And William Beasley, in the deftest manner that

ever I beheld (and I have seen the same thing oft attempted since, but

never accomplished), put a hand-net under the beast, and brought him

in. And he would have it, being one of the kindest hearts that ever

lived, that I had caught the pike. And we had a great feast off him;

'twas excellent meat, white and firm, though somewhat weedy, said

William; but I noted nothing amiss. Near to Oxford my father met me,

and carried me home, where I lived with much content until the time

when, as I have said, the Merchant Taylors' School was opened again, a

space of fifteen months and more. 'Twas not lost time so far as

learning was concerned, for our good parson took me in hand again and

taught me. And, indeed, he had been teaching my sister Dorothy, so

that she was a match, ay, and more than a match, for me, being both

older and of a nimbler wit. But being the tenderest soul alive, and

fearing that I should be grieved if she outstripped me too far, she

would hold back; and I, thinking that I could vanquish her, and being

sometimes by her suffered so to do, did my utmost. Verily I believe

that I had not learned more at the school itself, though my preceptors

there were diligent both with the voice and the rod, in which latter

instrument of learning they had such faith as Solomon himself, who,

methinks, has much affliction of youth to answer for, could not have

excelled. Nor did I gain in learning only, but also in strength of

body and health, in which, haply, I had fared ill had I been cooped

within the City walls.

In the year 1643--for that I be not tedious to them that shall read

this history I shall say no more of my schooldays--I, being then

eighteen years of age and not unfit, if I may say so much of myself,

to compare with the best scholars of the said school, did hope for my

election to a vacancy in the College of St. John the Baptist at

Oxford. But of this hope I was disappointed, not altogether, methinks,

of my own fault. It came about in this manner. About the beginning of

May comes a letter from the President and Fellows of the College,

wherein they write that they dare not, by reason of the troubles of

the times, venture so far as to come to London that they might take

part, as their custom was, in the election of scholars to their

College. So it turned out, to cut the matter short, that the Company

held the said election privately by themselves. Now my uncle, Master

Harland aforesaid, died about this time; and as during his life he had

been somewhat masterful, ruling most things according to his pleasure,

so now, being dead, there was, so to speak, a turn of the tide against

him and his, by which turn I suffered. They also to whom I looked for

help, to wit the President and Fellows of St. John's College, were

absent for the cause that I have already set forth. And so it happened

that when it came to the election I had but two voices. And this I say

not by way of complaint against them that ordered the election, nor of

murmuring against God, but because I desire to set forth what befell

me, and, as far as I can, the causes of the same. As for murmuring,

indeed, I doubt much whether I lost any great profit in this matter,

though I will confess that it was at the time no small disappointment

and bitterness. For the same cause that hindered the Fellows of the

College from coming to London, hindered also the scholars that were

then elected from going to Oxford; so that it was a long time before

they were admitted to their preferment. And, in truth, when they were

admitted, it was but an unprofitable matter, for the College was

almost at the point of dissolution for lack of means, many of its

tenants not being able to pay their rents, and some that had the

ability making pretence of the troubles of the times to cover their

dishonesty. And thus my schooldays came to an end.

With the King at Oxford: A Tale of the Great Rebellion · 第 3 / 21 章